I lay half on top of Nick, our legs entwined, my head on his shoulder.

“So, how was your first Friday night at the restaurant?” His fingers made little circles on my lower back. “I forgot to ask.”

I laughed. “Yeah, we didn’t do much talking when you got home from work.” My hand slid down to rest a few inches from where his dick was taking some well-deserved rest.

It twitched, and my insides contracted.

The second he’d walked into my apartment, he’d taken me hard and fast against the door, then again, tenderly but even more passionately, after we’d eaten.

“I miss us working at the same place,” I told him, “but if that’s the way you greet me every night, it might make up for it.” I stifled a yawn.

Our work schedules no longer synced up, but they weren’t that far off. I went to work around noon and got off between ten and midnight. That left about three hours to wait for Nick to come home from the club.

“And?” he asked. “Is the job as great as you hoped?”

“Definitely.” I snuggled against him. “They have me doing prep work. I think I scrubbed and trimmed a thousand baby carrots and beets, washed and patted dry even more tiny lettuce and arugula leaves, picking out all but the most perfect ones. Other than that, I mostly watch the sous chefs and line cooks, trying to learn, and staying alert so I can fetch things if someone shouts. Once service starts, I mostly keep out of the way, but the food in this place is amazing. Wow. Like art.”

“Tastes good too, I bet.” He cupped my ass, and I sighed in response.

“According to the food critics, it does.”

“You don’t like it?

“Haven’t tried it.”

“I thought you got to eat at work?”

“Not the dishes prepared for the front. One of the sous chefs does staff meals and it’s simpler food—a fish stew tonight—amazing, but nothing like what they serve to the customers.”

“Are the people nice?” His hand drifted to the small of my back.

“Sure. No chitchat, though, once service starts.” And no one talked to me during prep, either. It was clear that the other prep cooks resented my presence. Seems like everyone knew that strings had been pulled for me. “It’s weird to get a job I didn’t earn.”

His hand stilled. “You don’t like it?”

“No. It’s great. Really.” I stroked his chest. “And thanks again for finding out where my job was supposed to be.” I laughed. “I can’t believe the Nick I was looking for was a woman. Anyway, it’s an amazing opportunity—exactly what I wanted.”

“That’s great, baby.” He kissed my head.

“I’d like to meet this Nicola woman, thank her in person.”

Nick’s body tightened beneath me. “Not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t trust her.”

I sensed he was done with that topic. For tonight, anyway. So was I, since I had to be at work in seven hours.

My job fell pretty far onto the too-good-to-be true side, and it sucked that my coworkers knew it, but I’d win everyone over with hard work.

The club was quiet for a Saturday night, and ever since I’d tried to quit, my distaste for the place had grown. It wasn’t hard to see how to make this place better. If Stan treated the staff with some dignity, cleaned the restrooms, improved the food, we’d get a better clientele and make more money. No doubt. But even if the bottom line remained the same, it would be a better place to work—better for the customers, too.

Twice tonight a group of twentysomething-aged men had come in, immediately turned up their noses, and walked back out. They looked like tech-industry types with lots of cash to spend, but our drink prices were way out of whack with Solid Gold’s scuzzy vibe. That was another reason we didn’t make enough bank. Half the customers came in drunk or snuck in flasks.

The new cocktail waitress yelled at Miguel. I glanced toward the bar as Tonya stomped over and then shoved the new girl. Miguel rolled his eyes and walked away from the escalating fight.

I shook my head. Managing the cocktail waitresses was the bartender’s job, and Miguel reported to Stan, who must be seeing this from the one-way glass in his office, but the chances of him caring enough to come down were slim to none.

Leaving my post at the door, I crossed to the bar. “Ladies.” I caught their attention. “What’s going on?”

“Bitch took my table!” the new girl yelled.

Tonya jabbed the new girl’s chest. “Learn your job. Table ten is mine.”

“Hey.” I shook my head at Tonya. “How about we keep our hands to ourselves? Customers don’t need to see this.”

“What customers?” the new waitress said. “Barely any tonight, and according to this bitch they’re all in her section. How am I ’posed to earn with no customers?”

I looked over to Miguel, but he was polishing glasses, actively ignoring this.

“What’s your name?” I asked the new girl.

“Jenni, with an i.”

“Okay, Jenni with an i, there’s no hostess here. The customers sit where they want, so some nights you might not get many in your section, other nights you’ll get plenty.”

“Not if I’m on shift with this bitch!” Jenni yelled. “She’s got every fucking table along the stage! I’ve got shit.” She gestured toward the club space. “Six tables along the back. Only two customers all night, and they already had their two-drink minimums. Fucking draft beers!”

“That right, Tonya?” I turned to the veteran. “Is that the way Miguel divided the sections?” She wouldn’t lie straight to my face.

Tonya stuck out one of her hips, and raised her chin. “She’s new. She’s gotta learn the ropes. She’s too slow. Customers get mad.”

I glanced over to the sparse crowd, gathered mostly at eight tables in front of the stage. “Okay. How about for tonight, you split the floor down the middle.” I gestured to a dividing line. “That way you each get some customers.”

“You’re not our boss,” Tonya pouted.

“Then let’s ask Miguel.”

Tonya held up her hand to stop me. “Miguel told me to train this bitch. Give her whatever tables I wanted.”

I sighed. “How about you try it my way for a while. If either of you get busy, help each other out? Okay?”

Tonya glared at Jenni. I lightly touched Tonya’s shoulder. “Do it for me?”

“Okay, Nick.” She picked up her tray. “But I’m taking the right side.”

She walked toward the customers on her clacking stilettos.

I turned to find Keagan standing near the door to the club. He raised his chin in a hello and smiled.

“Hey, little brother.” He clapped my back when I joined him. “How’s the stripper business this fine night?”

“Shitty now that Jade’s gone.”

“You liked your woman working here?” Keagan glanced around.

“You’re right.” I shook my head. “It was always shitty.” Just more bearable when I got to see her.

“Well, I’m here to end your misery.”

“Keag—”

“Just hear me out, okay?”

“Keagan!” Angel stumbled into my brother—more like tripped—and fell into his arms. “Did you come to see me dance?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Keagan answered while setting Angel more solidly back on her feet.

“Really?” She rubbed her tits against him. “Wanna go out back? I’ll do whatever you want, Keagan. For free.” She looked up toward the window in front of Stan’s office. “Nick will cover for me. Right, Nick?” Her eyes widened. “Or we can have a threesome!” Her hand gripped the back of Keagan’s neck, and she rubbed his chest with the other.

“Sorry, Angel. We’re both off the market.” Keagan took her hand off his neck and put a few inches of space between their bodies.

“You want to go, Nick?” Angel asked me. “Or you still fucking that Jade bitch?”

“I’m totally off the market.” My chest warmed just thinking about Jade. So did my dick.

“But you’re single, Keagan.” Angel pouted.

“Sorry, Angel. Got a girlfriend. If she found out I was even talking to someone as hot as you…” He shook his head.

“Angel.” Melodie joined us and took the other dancer’s hand. “Come on. Your set is next.” Melodie winked at me as she pulled Angel away.

“That true?” I asked.

“What?”

“You got a girlfriend?”

“Nah.” Keagan chuckled. “Hell’s gonna freeze over before I get tied down.” He leaned back against the wall. “You’re happy. I see that, but too many girls, too little time. That’s my motto.”

And the motto fit. It was hard to imagine Keagan with a full-time girlfriend. I’d never seen him with the same woman more than twice, maybe three times.

“So what’s up?” I asked. “I know you didn’t come to see the show.”

“Got that right. Although…” He looked up to the stage as Angel stepped onto it. “If Angel stopped doing drugs…” He whistled an exhale. “Gotta admit. She’s pretty fucking hot.”

“They’re all hot.” I shrugged. “What’s going on?”

Keagan pushed off the wall, then checked the hallway to the entrance, making sure no one was listening. “Job’s on. Tonight. Be at the Oakland docks, four a.m.”

I shook my head. “How many ways do I have to say no?”

“Look.” Keagan leaned in, his hand on my shoulder. “It’s low risk with a six-figure payoff—for each of us—but if you want to be stubborn…” He shook his head. “We can pull it off with four, just leaves the Ferro entrance unguarded.”

“That’s all you need me for? A lookout?”

“If that’s what you want, sure. I’ll play the muscle guy for Shane’s connect and shift Mac to the gate.”

My stomach tightened. The idea that my absence would leave my brothers exposed—four guys on a five-man job—that they might get hurt, or arrested… “I dunno, Keag. You know how I feel about this.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s all good, Nicky. Just wanted to give you one last chance. I talked to my guy in Local 886, and he confirmed Shane’s intel. All the containers coming off that ship are rich, easily a half mil in electronics in each.”

“I have to tell you”—he drew a long breath—“when I heard that, I had to catch myself. Tempting to go for more than one, you know? Can you imagine? Millions. We’d be set for life.”

Raising his eyebrows, he shook his head. “Doesn’t pay to get greedy. The guys Shane’s double-crossing are doing all the risky shit. All we need to do is nab the truck at the gate. Should be cake.”

I watched the club floor for a while, glad to see that Tonya and Jenni had worked out their differences, both serving drinks at the moment.

This would be the first big job my brothers had done without me. As badly as I wanted out, it felt strange, and if they got hurt or caught I’d feel like shit. Keagan’s plans were always airtight. His five-man plan was probably flawless.

“Will we see you?” Keagan broke the silence.

“I need to think.” I couldn’t believe I was considering caving.

“Well, think fast, little brother. Text me by three if you’re in.” Giving me a hug, he whispered, “We need you, Nick. Just one last time.”