Page 62 of Vow

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.