The club was in full swing, the dim lights had a pulse tonight, sliding off the polished tables and catching brief gleams on the golden fixtures that hung over the VIP booths. The low throb of early night music warming up the room.
The night had only begun, but her shift already felt heavy. She’d been weaving between tables for hours, smiling, balancing drink trays, dodging wandering hands, and pushing down the exhaustion with practiced elegance.
Something shifted the moment her eyes drifted toward the last VIP booth on the left. Henry Ponder’s booth, the one he always sat in. Only he wasn’t there when she came in earlier but now he was.
Sitting back comfortably, one arm stretched along the velvet seat, dark shirt open slightly at the collar, expression thoughtful as he watched the cro
