Page 57 of Duty

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What the fuck are you doing here?

Andino ignored his inner thoughts as he parked his Lexus, and tipped his head to the side to see the flashing neon sign above the door of Safe Haven.

Girl is going to send you out on your ass, Andi.

Man, his head was a special breed of hell tonight.

He had no business being here—it wasn’t even about Haven, and yet it was at the same time. He’d dropped off her radar for two weeks, and not by his fucking choice. It just was what it was, in a way.

Andino figured if he gave it enough time, then he wouldn’t keep thinking about the next time he might be able to squeeze in a visit with her. He wouldn’t be wondering how many fucking more stars there were to find on her body.

He wouldn’t want to fuck her again.

Talk to her again.

See her again.

Something.

And all because of what?

Because she was a woman outside of everything else—something untouched by his life, and unknowing of the crown he’d been handed, but didn’t quite know what to do with. She was fun; hell, he hadn’t lied about that.

She was someone he was told he couldn’t have. Andino had been an only child. He didn’t do well with being told no, so fuck it, he might as well blame it on his parents.

Except he couldn’t.

Andino liked that Haven was an outsider, didn’t know a thing about him. Thing was—the longer he kept involving himself with her, and coming back for one more round, the more of his life he was going to bring with it.

And thus, his problems, too.

She didn’t ask for that.

She didn’t even know it.

He knew that.

He still got out of the car, and headed for the club.

EIGHT

Safe Haven was packed—it was probably over the fire code for maximum occupancy allowed inside the venue, actually. Filled to capacity, and it was only a little past midnight. The club still had several hours to go before closing time. Normally, Haven wouldn’t mind this at all. A lot of people was good for business, and she did like money. She liked when the work kept her busy, and moving from one thing to another.

Tonight was not quite the same.

Running short on staff with two call-ins, Haven was just now realizing she needed another person—or even two—on call just in case. A bartender that knew how to work a bar, and a girl on the floor.

She made a mental note as she poured a line of whiskey shots for the frat boys still trying to get her attention with their polo shirts, and dimpled smiles. For another woman, these frat boys might have been a welcome reprieve to a busy night. Some harmless fun and flirting, but not for Haven.

Not my type, sorry.

At least, they weren’t being pushy or overbearing. Nothing she couldn’t handle, anyway. Just a little drunk, and having some loud fun while she poured their drinks. That wasn’t anything new for Haven.

“There you are, boys,” Haven said, flipping the whiskey bottle around in her hand before sliding it under the bar. “Enjoy your drinks.”

“Have a shot with us!”