Page 87 of Duty

New Year’s Eve was always busy, but when Safe Haven decided to put on a special with a burlesque show, a promised dance from a favorite—Valeria—who didn’t dance often, and also cut prices on drinks amongst their regular acts?

The place became a circus.

Jackson slid behind the bar looking entirely out of his element as he shoved three bottles of the club’s most requested vodka onto the shelves. Poor guy, Haven mused. He was far more accustomed to handling the employees, and doing paperwork when the need called for it. Working behind the bar and dealing with patrons was beyond his paygrade, really.

“Is that all you need, or—”

“Take a break,” Haven called to the manager.

Hell, he might have a fucking aneurism if he didn’t, what with the way that vein in his forehead was bulging out. She really couldn’t afford for one of her employees to drop tonight when the place was just getting started.

Also, ambulances really dampened a party.

“Are you sure?” Jackson asked. “I don’t mind helping.”

Haven rolled her eyes. “You mind—this isn’t your job, I get it. Go take a break, and then check in with Val for me, okay? She’s on in forty minutes or so.”

Jackson saluted Haven with two fingers. “You got it, boss.”

He was quick to leave, then.

Fine by her.

Shouts and cheers lit up the crowd, taking Haven’s attention away from the line of shots she was pouring for a group of smartly-dressed men at the bar. They were polite, and gracious, and didn’t fucking leer. All things Haven appreciated in her customers, but especially when she was one of the women stuck behind the bar for the majority of the night. Compared to some of the patrons who came through on any given night, these men were saints.

Across the floor, Haven watched the main stage as the line of burlesque dancers dropped off behind the curtain one by one. Eventually, they were all gone from the stage except for the main girl with the biggest head piece who was almost entirely naked but for a few well-placed pieces of her costume.

Those girls put on a damn good show.

Well worth their price.

Haven was all the way down the bar ten minutes later, and mixing a margarita for a chatty redheaded woman with another girl hanging off her arm when Valeria slipped in behind the bar. Her friend shot her a wide smile as she automatically started taking orders from whoever hadn’t been served, and was still standing there waiting.

“What are you doing?” Haven called down. “You’re supposed to be on the stage in thirty minutes!”

Valeria shrugged as she reached for a bottle of schnapps. “You need an extra pair of hands—here they are.”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s fine, Haven. I’m ready.”

She didn’t look like it.

No outfit.

No heels.

At least, Val’s hair and makeup was done.

That was something.

“Fifteen minutes,” Haven told her friend. “That’s it, and then you have to go back and finish getting ready. Got it?”

“Someone’s bossy tonight, huh?”

Valeria winked.

Haven only laughed.