by Bethany-Kris
They couldn’t afford for her to take the drop in price.
“What would you like me to do?” the man asked.
Haven didn’t answer him right away, instead taking a moment to glance away, so he couldn’t see her face while she gathered her thoughts. She took in the empty club’s floor, and all the tables and chairs that were waiting to be filled for the night. She had another two hours before the club would open, but she thought coming in early might help to take her mind off things if she stayed busy.
A fleeting hope, apparently.
Her mind was still as chaotic and confused as it ever was, now. That seemed to be her one constant. The thing she couldn’t escape from no matter how hard she tried.
She had to keep busy—or try, even if it was a failed effort—because if she didn’t, then she focused on all the things that weren’t happening in her life. Like Andino, and his missing presence over the last month.
He didn’t call, but he did send a text once in a while. He never showed up at her club, or house.
He had sent her one vase of flowers on her birthday with another one of his notes attached in the middle of April, but other than that … radio silence. She was being smart, and taking that for what it was.
This thing between them was dying.
Or … it was already dead.
Haven wasn’t really sure which one applied, but nonetheless, it was happening. His distance, even if he occasionally did reach out, made her think that perhaps he knew the truth, too. Especially if she wasn’t engaging him.
Not that she didn’t want to.
Christ.
Haven wanted Andino more than anything, but she also didn’t want to be hurt over and over again. Too much had happened between them for her to just … forget it all. Whether or not he understood that was a whole other matter.
“Well?” the realtor asked again. “What would you like me to do?”
It almost amused Haven how all she needed to do was get Andino on the brain, and suddenly, nothing else mattered. Work and life flew away because he took up all the space in her mind and heart, and left no room for anything else.
Why did it have to be like this?
“Try,” Haven said pointedly as she turned her gaze back on the man sitting at her bar, “to get the buyer to speed things along. I don’t want to go back to another offer if I don’t have to. So yeah, try to get him—or her—to speed things up.”
“I can try, but the buyer’s lawyer is a goddamn pit bull. He’s stuck in what he wants, and he doesn’t budge very much.”
Yes, so she was learning.
Haven was starting to get curious about the mysterious investor behind the company name on the paperwork sitting on the bar. She hadn’t thought to look in to it before—there really wasn’t a need. A part of her wondered what she might find if she did. Was this their normal standard when it came to buying a business? Fuck someone around until they were at their wits end?
Another day.
Now was not the time.
“Just try,” Haven said. “As the saying goes, closed mouths don’t get fed.”
The realtor pushed off the stool with a nod. “I will try.”
That was the best she could ask for.
As the realtor made his way out of the club, Haven seriously considered cracking open one of her top-shelf whiskeys just to take a couple of shots to ease her edginess. It wasn’t like she needed to be in a mood once her workers started filtering in for their shift.
It was only the ringing of Haven’s phone that stopped her from moving behind the bar. She picked up the phone from where she’d tossed it away earlier, and didn’t bother to check the caller ID before answering.
“Haven here.”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Haven wished she could say that at the sound of her father’s voice, all of her stress fled as fast as it had come. She couldn’t, though. Now, every single time her father called, she found herself on edge thinking that something might have happened to her mom.
It was constant.
It sucked.
“Hey, Dad,” Haven said, keeping her tone cheerful.
Or as much as she could manage.
“How’s Mom?”
“Good,” Neil said. “She had a good day. The treatment wasn’t easy today, but she didn’t get as sick afterward. And she wanted ice cream.”
Haven smiled.
That was good.
Usually, chemo left her mother unwilling to eat entirely. Sometimes, for days after. Sure, the doctors had her on meds that should increase her appetite, but Haven thought it was also a mental thing. No one could have much of a desire to shove food into their mouths when they knew the only thing that was going to happen soon after was the food coming back out … and not very pleasantly.
“That’s great,” Haven said. “Is she around? Let me talk to her.”
“She’s sleeping right now,” her father said.
Damn.
“Well, don’t wake her up. Let her rest.”
God knew her mother needed it.
“How’s things that way?” Neil asked. “The club doing well?”
“Of course. The realtor was just here. We were going over—”
Her father made a harsh sound on the other end of the line. Fuck. Haven shouldn’t even have brought the realtor up, really. She knew better.
“I wish you wouldn’t sell the club,” her father said quietly. “You worked so hard to save that place after everything, and you shouldn’t just give it up. You know your mother and I will be fine—we want you to live your life, Haven. This is your life.”
“And you’re a part of that,” Haven returned easily. This was the same conversation they had been having for months. Nothing about it had changed. Her parents wanted one thing, but she knew that she had to do another. It was as simple as that. “You and Mom are a big part of my life, and every reason why I took over this club to begin with. And now, things have changed again. I should be where I can be most useful to you and her, but I don’t think that’s here, Dad.”
“You should be happy.”
Haven blinked.
She didn’t know how to tell her father the truth but … she hadn’t been happy for a long time. Sure, her mother’s cancer coming back hadn’t helped with that, but it was mostly everything else going on in her personal life that kept her down.
Her father didn’t need to know that.
“Mae doesn’t want you to sell the club, and uproot your entire life just because she’s sick, Haven,” Neil said, refusing to let this go. “She also wants you to keep living your life. It is not your job to take care of us—we can do that. We have been doing it just fine ever since we left New York.”
But wasn’t that exactly her job?
“Could we talk about this another day?” Haven asked.
When her father wouldn’t let something go, then deflecting onto something else was Haven’s next best defense. She was sure her father knew that she was doing exactly that, but he wasn’t likely to call her out on it.
“For the record,” her father said, “my opinion on this isn’t going to change just because it’s a new day, sweetheart. Neither will your mother’s opinion. It’s more stressful on Mae to think that you’re giving up things you love for no other reason than you think she’s dying. Do you understand that?”
Haven hesitated.
She hadn’t, actually.
That one was new.
“I don’t think Mom’s dying …”
“You don’t sound very convinced,” Neil replied.
Yeah, shit.
“I just want to help,” Haven settled on saying. “That’s all, Dad. I need to help.”
“You can help by living and being happy. That’s what we want the most, sweetheart.”
If only it could be that simple.
Haven knew it wouldn’t be.
• • •
“Take five,” Jackson said as he slid behind the bar.
H
aven gave the man a side-eye that could rival the Devil’s. “Does it really look like I have time to take a five-minute break?”
Jackson was quick to take the mixing shaker out of Haven’s hands, and his posture said that she was not fucking getting it back anytime soon. Goddamn him.
“We also need to keep people coming into the club, Haven,” Jackson said. “And you’ve snapped at the last three patrons who came up to order drinks.”
Had she?
Jesus.
Usually, she didn’t mind busy nights. They were the best kind to work, frankly. Tonight, however, seemed to be the night when literally everything was willing to test Haven’s very kind patience. She blamed it on the visit with the realtor earlier, and then the call from her father. After all of that, she really wasn’t in the mood to put on a happy face, and serve already drunk people more liquor.
The littlest things put her in a bad mood lately.
“Take five,” Jackson repeated firmly.
No room for argument.
Haven nodded, defeated. She was quick to slip around the bar, and head across the club’s floor. She barely passed the girls working their pole a look, and she didn’t even bother to stop and say hi to a familiar face she recognized sitting at one of the far tables.
Before long, she was closing the door of her office, and dragging in a deep breath. Putting her back to the wall, she counted back from ten, and willed her nerves to relax. It should help. It always did before.
It didn’t this time.
Haven pushed away from the door, and dropped into the chair behind the desk. Maybe what she really needed more than anything was a fucking vacation. Time away from just being.
That sounded heavenly.
And it tasted like guilt.
Fuck her life.
The first thing Haven thought to do was bitch about her life. To open her mouth, and let all the stress come out of it in a vomit of words that would leave her with less things on her mind. It was something she found helped.
Usually, she would do it with Valeria.
Except … Haven glanced up to find the office empty. Like her home, and her heart. She was never more aware of Val’s missing presence in her life than she was lately. The more shit that piled onto Haven’s shoulders, the worse she missed her friend.
Where was she?
Was she okay?
What about Maria?
Those thoughts were a constant plague on Haven’s mind now. It was just one more thing to add to the hell that had become her life. She didn’t have answers, and no way to get them, either. It was quite a fucking place to be, really.
Haven wasn’t sure how long she stayed in her office, but it was definitely longer than the five-minute break Jackson had told her to take. She wasn’t any less stressed, but she was slightly more relaxed. More willing to put on that happy face for her customers, anyway.
That was something.
Jackson popped his head in the office doorway after knocking once. But hell, at least he fucking knocked. That was more than he used to do.
“Yes?” Haven asked, rubbing her fingertips into her temples.
“The patron for the private room is here.”
Haven’s brow furrowed. “All right.”
In the entire club, there was just one private room. Haven didn’t like the sleazy appeal of private rooms where the girls could take customers and do whatever the hell a man was willing to pay for. That wasn’t what she wanted Safe Haven to be known for beyond the walls of this place. She also didn’t like the idea that a patron might take advantage of a girl behind closed doors when no one was there to help the woman.
It all left a bad taste in Haven’s mouth.
So, she culled any chance of that by simply not allowing for private sessions between a dancer and a patron.
They did, however, have a private room that was used for things like parties and whatever else. Security was always present, as was at least one member of management. They didn’t use the private room very often, and when they did, Jackson was the manager who handled all the details and making sure things were on the up and up.
Haven rarely touched it at all.
Jackson didn’t move from the doorway. “It was booked last week, remember?”
“Not particularly.”
That shouldn’t be a surprise, though. A lot of things were slipping in Haven’s life lately. It only served to leave her feeling like a giant fucking failure, but maybe she would get used to feeling like this after a while.
Who knew?
“The patron who booked the room asked specifically for a meeting with you, not a dance or anything,” Jackson said.
Haven’s gaze narrowed. “What?”
The man shrugged.
Something felt off for her.
Maybe she didn’t remember Jackson telling her about the private booking because he actually hadn’t told her at all. That seemed more likely considering she never did a private dance. And all meetings she had were held in her office, or at the bar before the club even opened for the night.
“What’s going on?” Haven demanded.
Jackson cleared his throat, and glanced away. “Listen, he was very persuasive when he called in, and I didn’t think you would mind me saying yes.”
“He?”
“Your friend—Marcello.”
“Andino?”
Jackson nodded. “That’s the one, yeah.”
Holy mother of fucking Christ.
Haven had the distinct feeling Jackson had only been trying to help. Most likely her, but also Andino in a way. The man had no idea about the shit that had happened between her and Andino. All he could know was that Andino didn’t come around the club as much as he used to, but even that could be explained away with simple excuses.
She tried not to get mad at Jackson.
Tried being the keyword there.
“He’s in the private room, then?” Haven asked, her tone rough.
“Yeah. Sorry, did I fuck up?”
Haven stood from the desk. “More him than you … but don’t do it again.”
“Noted.”
• • •
“Is this supposed to be a joke?”
Andino met Haven’s gaze from across the private room where he was currently sitting on one of several red velvet couches. He gave the server handing over what looked to be a glass of whiskey a quick smile.
“Thank you,” he told the server.
“Anything else?” Kandi asked with one of her signature smiles that tended to have all the men tipping her generously. “Just ask.”
Kandi really was a sweet girl. Her name was far more than appropriate. Usually, Haven appreciated the fact that the girl made the patrons comfortable, and happy. She did not, however, like the way Kandi was currently smiling at Andino.
“No, that’ll be quite enough, thanks, Kandi,” Haven said.
A little too sharply, maybe, if the way the young woman looked over her shoulder at her boss was any indication. Haven wished she had taken a second to cool the raging jealousy flooding her body at nothing more than the sight of a woman—who was just doing her job—paying Andino a bit of attention.
How could a woman not pay him attention?
He looked like sin had come into her club, and sat down on a velvet couch wearing an Armani suit, shiny leather loafers, a Rolex on his wrist, and a smile that screamed sex. The man didn’t even have to try. He filled out his tailored suit in the best way, and he fucking knew it, too.
That was before Haven moved onto his good looks, and charming nature.
She shouldn’t be jealous. There was no fucking need for any of that nonsense. They weren’t even really a thing anymore. Sure, she might not be seeing someone else, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t out fucking God knew who.
Jesus.
Was he doing that?
“Sorry,” Kandi said as she passed Haven by. “I’ll leave you two alone, boss.”
Haven glanced up at the ceiling, an
d prepped to give the girl an apology. She didn’t get the chance—Kandi was gone from the private room before Haven could even open her mouth again.
Great.
“That was awkward,” Andino murmured.
Haven’s gaze flew back to the man of the hour, and her anger was back in a blink. “That was nothing. Why are you here?”
“Really, nothing?”
She wished the lump in her throat wasn’t so goddamn thick. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I think we should talk about how pissed off you just were because I smiled at a woman, and she smiled back at me. That seems far more interesting.”
“I would rather not.”
“Pride’s a bitch, huh? I know all about that.”
Haven clenched her jaw. “Could you not right now?”
“Who else will call your shit out when I don’t?”
Good point.
That didn’t mean he had to make it, though.
Haven went back to her first question instead. “What are you doing here? And did you really think booking the private room behind my back to get a few minutes with me was a good idea?”
Andino didn’t blink at the face of her anger. “I don’t expect you to understand, Haven, but I am trying to be discreet in the way I do things lately. A hazard of my current position. I wanted—and needed—a few minutes with you, so this seemed like the best way. I don’t have to stay.”
God.
She hated how the first thing she wanted to do was simply say don’t go, stay. That she so badly wanted to ask why he wasn’t calling her nearly as much, or know what was happening in his life that was keeping him away from her.
Because even if a part of her did want him to just leave her the hell alone, another part of her wanted nothing more than to have him keep being … this man that was in front of her.
The man that didn’t stop. Didn’t take no for an answer. The man that showed up in her life, and inserted his presence there like that’s exactly where he was always meant to be whether she fucking liked it or not. This man—this infuriating, confusing, and strange man—who could put her on edge, take her to the top of the world, or crush her entire heart all in the same breath.