Page 1 of Deception & Desire

1

MIA

It’s a bad day.

That much I managed to decide by lunch, when the bodega I usually hit up was inexplicably closed, and I was forced to run back to theCandelabrato make it back in time for my shift.

In hindsight, nobody would have been able to discipline me for being late. With Cas still on maternity leave, I was running the place single-handedly. But it was the principle, considering how often I had to chew out Danny for showing up only minutes before her set.

The blonde bombshell in question is currently finishing up her song, studiously ignoring the leering group of men who’d managed to snag the VIP table below the stage.

“You think we should intervene?” Terry murmurs as he nods toward our esteemed guests.

I take the glass he’s finished polishing and place it on its designated shelf behind the bar. “Danny’s a big girl. She can handle it.”

“They’ve been drinking Absinthe all night,” he says as he polishes up the next glass.

It’s almost second nature by now, breaking down the bar like this as soon as the clock says it’s four a.m. Danny usually closes out the show, so we have the process down to a fine art, jumping into action as soon as she hits the second verse of her penultimate song.

“Cut them off,” I instruct needlessly. Terry has been here almost as long as I have. “And let's keep the VIP table reserved from now on. The boss is sure to show up one of these days anyway.”

Terry snorts. “Which one?”

It was a good question. Ownership of theCandelabrahas shifted hands so frequently in the last couple of years that it was sometimes hard to remember where half our protocols even came from.

It was a frustrating side effect of the place being owned by the Italian mafia.

Not that Terry knew that officially, but by now, I’m fairly certain he suspects. Especially now that the current don is an old, personal…acquaintance of mine.

Okay, scratch that—childhoodenemy,teenage rival, and adult…well, we’re civil now. Teo Vitale wasn’t so bad now that he was a father, though I didn’t particularly care for his new wife.

Not that I’d seen or spoken to them in months. Nor anyone else in the Guild, for that matter. Aside from my father, of course, who likes to call me twice a week like the needy asshole he is. I swear he’s getting clingier in his old age.

All in all, it’s exactly how I prefer things. The less I know about the Guild and the failing alliance it’s trying to form with the Prince’s Hand, the better.

Not that I know that officially, either.

“One of them just tried to snatch at Danny’s leg.” Terry’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and my eyes snap to the stage.

Sure enough, one of the bastards is half-strewn across the stage, laughing maniacally as Danny makes a hasty retreat.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Yeah. This has been a really bad day.

“ALRIGHT!” I yell as I vault over the bar. “SHOWS OVER FOLKS!”

I don’t need to check if Terry has my back as I march straight over to the VIP table. Luckily, most of the occupants are too inebriated to stop me as I grab the guy on the stage by the back of the shirt and drag him off.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, pal, but there’s a $5,000 fine for attempting to touch the merchandise,” I inform him as soon as his bleary eyes meet mine.

He’s barely able to hold himself up. “Well, hey there, gorgeous. You come here often?”

I let him slink to the floor in disgust and turn to his companions. “Who’s going to settle this guy’s bill?”

A hand touches my back, and I react based on instinct. Terry knows better than to do something with my back turned, so I feel no remorse as I spin and throw my potential attacker to the floor.

The man looks up at me—another one of the drunken idiots—from beneath the boot pressed to his throat.

“You can’t treat us like this!” he garbles. “We’re personal friends of the boss. I want to see the manager!”

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