Page 102 of Day Shift

The days after the wedding dragged on like a slow-moving storm. Staying mainly at home, I spent hour after hour mulling over everything that had happened. Working at Club Xyst in the evenings was impossible due to the army of bodyguards that followed me everywhere. When I attempted to go in and work, their presence made the club’s atmosphere tense and uncomfortable, driving away the elite patrons who required a certain degree of anonymity. Even mundane tasks like grocery shopping became missions. So I chose to remain home instead of dealing with all of that, leaving me with too much time to sit and think.

Today, I found myself on the sofa, arm draped over the back, staring out the window of my Chelsea brownstone. I watched neighbors come and go, their lives unfolding in a peaceful rhythm that contrasted sharply with my own chaotic existence. A couple of young boys had just scootered by, tossing firecrackers out as they went. My TV hummed softly in the background, but my focus stayed on the world outside my window.

A large bouquet of fragrant summer flowers—stargazer lilies, roses, and peonies—sat on the table between the kitchen and the living room, their scent a gentle reminder of Conan’s thoughtful nature.

Lost in my feels, I became aware of the fact that nearly dying had turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. Waking up as a blank slate without a past and with only a future to consider had given me a newfound hope for tomorrow. There were no worries, no obligations, no insecurities—just endless possibilities. Sure, it had been terrifying to have no clue who I was or where I came from, but I was also the luckiest girl alive. Fate had landed me in the care of a man who wanted to be with me for who I truly was—not because of my family, not for what I could give him, not out of obligation—because I was just me. The wreck had been a once-in-a-lifetime reset button, a chance to explore what life had to offer.

I’d spent the last few days going through my options. On every path forward, I saw myself with Conan. I’d never met a man who was as big and badass as they come yet so willing to give me his heart, a heart he’d always protected from the pain that had cut him so deeply as a boy. He’d carefully made his way through life, enjoying all it had to offer…except true love. He’d had plenty of women willing to give him his every desire, but he’d rejected them. Then I’d fallen into his life, and unexplainably, he’d handed me his heart. No strings, no pressure, no questions asked—mine for the taking.

But was I the best for him? Could I possibly give him the love he deserved? I came with lots of baggage and had no idea how to be a warm, nurturing life partner. Every relationship I’d known had been transactional—well, except for Nik. Nik was the only person who’d ever cared about me. His was the only semblance of love I’d ever experienced, and our relationship was a far cry from normal. Because he was my twin, we were tied together in a unique way, and his protective affection meant the world to me, but it wasn’t the same as having someone choose to be with you.

No one got to pick their parents or the family they were born into, but we did have the power to choose who we loved. Entrusting someone with your heart was a terrifying proposition. I wasn’t sure I could do it now…or ever.

Earlier, I’d promised Lucian I’d go down to the club before it opened today to meet with him and the guys about the midyear financials. Although I was restless and lonely, I didn’t plan to stay long. The bodyguards were making everyone uncomfortable, driving away our exclusive clientele. I knew I should tell the guys I needed to take a break from the club, but the thought of walking away was devastating. Club Xyst had been my refuge for years. There, I was confident, powerful, and even adored. But it had become an unbearable situation. The guys would never ask me to stay away, but it was probably for the best if I did.

I arrived at the club a little before 8:00 p.m., and the line outside was already long. People were eager to participate in our special Fourth of July festivities. Slade stood at his post, towering and vigilant.

“Hey, Slade,” I said, nearing the entrance.

He grinned. “Good to see you tonight, Ana. The last few days have been better with you around.”

“Thanks, Slade. But tonight might be my last. I can’t deal with the army of men that follows me everywhere. It’s making everyone nervous and hurting the club. Our best patrons don’t want attention drawn to their, let’s say, extracurricular activities.”

Slade nodded. “Don’t worry about the club. People will get over it soon. And no matter what you decide, you know I’ll always be here for you.”

On the first night I’d attempted to come back to work, I had told Slade everything that happened—from leaving New York for Tacoma to the chaos of my fake wedding. He had always been a good listener, understanding and supportive, and I’d owed him that much. We’d always been close, and I wanted to make sure he heard everything straight from me. His support meant the world to me, but I didn’t want to do anything that might hurt the club.

Slade glanced at the four bodyguards hovering nearby. “Yeah, I get it. It does look like the place is surrounded by FBI agents or something.”

I laughed. “Exactly. It might be good for me and the club if I took some time away. Maybe I should think of it as a long-overdue vacation. I’d love to go somewhere tropical with piña coladas.”

Slade chuckled and gave me a side-hug as he escorted me inside. “That sounds nice. Remember, there will always be a place for you here. Besides, you own a chunk of it. What can the guys say? It’s not like they can fire you.”

I hugged him tightly. “Thanks, Slade. You’re the best.”

While I moved toward the main floor of the bar, the familiar ambiance of Club Xyst enveloped me. This was my world. But as I glanced around, I realized it was time to make some tough decisions.

The bar was quiet, the kind of quiet that always settled in just before the bustle of the night’s chaos unfolded. I walked to the end of the bar, inhaling the familiar scent of polished wood and the faint musk of spilled drinks. Out of habit, my hand reached for the receipts box beneath the counter, but before I could grab it, a throat cleared over the loudspeakers.

I turned toward the stage, my heart skipping a beat. There, in the center, sat Conan, alone on a stool with a guitar in his hands and a mic in front of him. His grin was as big as ever. He began strumming a soft ballad, and the air seemed to hum with magic. Goose bumps spread over my arms.

I was drawn to him like a magnet, my feet carrying me closer to the stage, my eyes never leaving his. The first notes hummed through the speakers, and Conan’s voice filled the room, smooth and tender.

Will you live your life with me?

Wherever that may be?

Let me take you away from here,

To a place where love is free.

The melody wrapped around me, pulling me in, and as he sang, he kept his eyes locked onto mine. His lyrics painted a picture of a new life. It was a plea for me to come away with him. Every word sank deep into my soul, resonating with possibilities I hadn’t dared to dream. I was mesmerized. The rest of the world faded away until it was just the two of us and the music.

I found myself walking around to the side of the stage, moving as if in a daze, climbing the stairs one by one and making my way toward Conan, the song guiding my every step until I was standing right in front of him. His gaze was filled with a depth of emotion that left me breathless.

The song ended, but he continued to play softly.

“I love you, my Angel,” he said, his voice reverberating around the massive, empty space of the bar. The power of those words hit me with a force that made my knees buckle. I fell to the floor between his legs, my hand clutching his knee for support. Tears streamed down my face, words failing me as I was overcome.

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