How was it even May?
Haven blinked at the calendar on her phone for a third time even though the date still hadn’t changed. It seemed like the entire month of April passed her by without any sort of warning, and here she was, in a whole new month.
“So, yes, another inspection,” the realtor said.
She finally looked away from her phone at that to give the man her attention. It was him mentioning the date that had put her in this goddamn daze in the first place. She simply meant to check her phone to see how long it had been since she started this process for the buyer who offered her well above the asking price for the club, and instead, got lost in wondering how an entire month passed her by.
“Another one?”
“The buyer assures this will be the last one. You should get a call sometime this week to set up an appoint—”
Haven made a frustrated noise, and tossed her phone to the bar. “Yes, an appointment that will take weeks to actually show up, and get done. It’ll be into June before that actually happens. You said I would have this place sold by now.”
The realtor shrugged, and his face remained passive. “You very well might have sold it by now, but you chose what I would call an investor instead of a passionate buyer. They do their homework, and they don’t mind dragging out the process. We can still go back to the original offers—one was willing to wait, if you changed your mind.”
The thought was appealing. Maybe a bit too much, really. Haven was absolutely willing to take the cut in money if it meant she could get out of New York quicker, and down to Florida where her mother was still sick, and in need of help. At the same time, the idea made her feel selfish as hell.
Her mother was still sick. Her parents still needed help. Financial help, even if they weren’t openly telling her that. Shit, Haven had seen all the medical bills from the first round of cancer years ago, and how it crushed her parents under its substantial weight.
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.
Haven 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, and 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.
Andino had no idea the things he was capable of where Haven was concerned. He didn’t know—couldn’t possibly understand—the power he had over her. He didn’t have a single fucking clue how much she loved him.
God, she loved him.
And she hated him, too.
“I came to give you something,” he said, standing from the couch. For the first time, she noticed the folder that had been resting on his thigh when he flashed it with a wave of his hand. “And then be on my way.”
Haven swallowed the words in an attempt to keep them in, but the bastards still managed to slip out anyway. “Whatever that is—is it the only reason you came?”
“Of course not,” Andino murmured, coming closer. “I miss you. I always miss you, baby.”
She blinked.
Fuck my whole life.
Once he was close enough to hold the folder out to her, he did just that. Haven took it, but she didn’t look inside right away. Instead, she looked at him.
“The place still hasn’t sold, huh?” he asked. “Strange—this club should have flew off the market.”
“The buyer is a prick.”
Andino smirked. “I see.”
“What’s this?”
She waved the folder.
Andino shrugged one broad shoulder. “You mentioned your friend … Valeria … and I figured it must have been weighing on you that she up and went without a word. You’re that type of person, aren’t you? You give entirely too much of a shit about everybody else, and not nearly enough about yourself.”
He knew her too well.
“You looked into Valeria?”
“As much as I could,” he replied. “This might help to get you started if you want to look elsewhere, or try to find her. I didn’t want to give this to you.”
Haven’s gaze narrowed, but Andino was quick to shake his head.
“Not for the reasons you probably think,” he was fast to add, “but because there are things that came up about Valeria Gomez that quickly turned dangerous, and murky. And if you go looking in those places … not even I could keep you safe, I don’t think.”
She stiffened, and looked down at the folder in her shaking hand. “Oh.”
“But here it is,” Andino said, “whether I want you to look or not isn’t my choice. I didn’t even have any business looking into her history to begin with but the idea that something was bothering you killed me. So, I made a few calls, and pulled what I could. That’s what I came here for—I hope it helps.”
Haven blinked, unsure of what to say.
Andino didn’t really give her the time to figure it out before he moved to pass by her, but not before he stopped, and gave her a soft kiss on her temple. That gentle press of his lips was enough to send a blaze lighting up over her skin. He really hadn’t come to upset her life again, or to get in the way. He hadn’t shown up to cause problems, or drag her to bed for yet another round.
He came because he cared.
He still cared.
And that just fucked her up more than ever.
“Could I replace your flowers again?” he asked, his lips still grazing her skin.
She wanted to ask if he would bring them himself this time, but she held back. He’d been the one who said he was trying to be discreet, after all. She was sure there were things happening that she wasn’t privy to, and maybe that was for the best.
Right now, Haven had a lot of things to figure out.
“You should,” she said quietly, “the others are wilting.”
Andino nodded. “Will do. And, if you want to chat about what you find in that folder … you know where to find me.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed her temple once more, and brushed his knuckles against her cheekbone before he left the private room altogether. Haven felt like her feet had suddenly turned into cement right there on the spot.
It took entirely too long for her to break from the daze and open the folder. Maybe she should have waited until she was back home again.
She couldn’t.
She had to know what Valeria had never told her.
The second she opened the folder, she wished she would have waited until she was home alone so that she could absorb the information staring back at her on just the first page. It looked to be a newspaper clipping of some sort. She scanned the words, and the ones that seemed important jumped out at her.
Gomez Cartel.
Fifteen-year-old Valeria Lòpez marries the oldest son of Martín Gomez in a ceremony at Saint Basile Chapel only two weeks after her father’s arrest for embezzlement.
Blackmail. Bribery.
Haven kept reading, and the information only became worse with each page. Who knew Mexico was so goddamn corrupt?
• • •
“I’m surprised it took you this long. Or rather, that it took you a whole week to decide to come and talk to me about the folder.”
Haven sighed, and continued staring at the green shrubbery someone had placed in a terracotta potter beside Andino’s front door. It was easier to stare at the small plant than at the man who managed to tell her that statement, and yet, still not sound smug about the fact that he said it without a hint of surprise.
Like he just knew.
She was going to come back here again.
“I had a busy week,” Haven said. “Took a two-day trip to Florida to visit my mom, and work … well, work is work.”
“How is your mom?”
Haven frowned, and finally glanced at Andino. There was genuine concern written on his expression, and not a hint of the arrogant man she expected to find when she knocked on his door earlier. She didn’t quite know what to make of that. God knew it was far easier to deal with Andino—at times—when he was laying all of his cards out on the table rather than keeping them close to his chest.
She didn’t know how to deal with him like this at all.
“Still sick,” she said.
Andino nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Haven shrugged. “It just upset her to see me there, anyway. She thought I was coming to stay right then, and hadn’t told her. They would rather I keep living my life, and help from afar. They don’t want me to uproot everything.”
“And you just want to help.”
“Yeah, well …”
That was the best thing she could think to say, as lame as it was. The visit to see her mom had helped a bit. Despite the chemo treatments being far more aggressive this time around, her mother was doing wonderfully. That counted for something.
Andino stepped back a bit from the doorway, and widened the door. “Do you want to come in?”
Haven clutched the folder in her hands a little tighter as she stared at the dark hallway behind Andino. The sight was as familiar as it was uncomfortable. His entire life was hidden in his home. Haven had learned that over time. She also learned that he guarded his private life more carefully than most.
Yet, he had no issue with inviting her in, and letting her make herself at home. She craved the comfort of this place—filled with furniture, things, and life—as much as she did Andino, in a way. Compared to her own house currently, it was far warmer.
Even if the man in front of her was the source of heartache for her.
“I don’t know if I should,” Haven said.
Andino chuckled, and gave her a look from the side. “It’s just a house, donna. One you’ve been inside time and time again. Stop looking at it as though it might come alive and bite you.”
Funny.
That’s exactly how it felt.
“Don’t be patronizing,” Haven said, moving past Andino in the doorway to enter the house. “It’s not a good look on you.”
Haven shot him a condescending smile over her shoulder. “Is that what your mother tells you? You did say you were spoiled being an only child and all.”
Andino’s mouth curved at the edges with one of those sexy smirks of his before he tossed his head back, and laughed hard. There was something beautiful about this man when he let loose, and separated from the hard shell that he seemed to always keep front and center.
It was distracting and disconcerting to Haven. Just the sight of him laughing was enough to make her breaths quicken, and her heart ache. How different things could have been between them if only shit had worked out.
She needed to get away from those thoughts, and fast. That was not why she had come here, and she wasn’t about to indulge that nonsense.
“Let’s sit in the living room,” Andino said, seemingly noticing Haven’s change in mood. “I was doing some paperwork.”
As she headed that way, she asked, “Don’t you have an office for that?”
“I thought a change in scenery might be nice.” Andino was close enough behind her that Haven could feel the heat of his body. And yet, he didn’t reach out to touch her or anything of the sort. She wasn’t sure which pissed her off more—that she wanted him to do exactly that, or that he didn’t do it at all. She really was a sad state of a mess. “And also because my cousin mentioned he’d missed the last few episodes of his favorite show, and wanted me to fill him in.”
“John, you mean?”
That was the only cousin Andino ever really talked about.
“John,” he agreed as he dropped down on the couch. Haven stayed standing even when Andino glanced up, and quirked a brow. “Do you just want to stand, or …?”
“I don’t plan on staying.”
“Shame.”
The word came out of his mouth like a soft murmur. Whispering to her in all the wrong and far too right ways.
Haven knew it then … she was going to be fucked—probably in more ways than one—before this night was over.