Then I see Hayes.
Eric Hayes is standing near the service corridor, talking to Aurora. He’s positioned too close, angled toward her to block her path to the main floor. His posture is casual, with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a glass of water he probably asked a bartender for just to justify his presence.
The placement is deliberate.
He’s made himself an obstacle she has to navigate around or through to exercise control. He doesn’t need to touch her or raise his voice. He just needs to occupy the space she wants to move through and force her to ask his permission to leave.
Aurora’s body language changes immediately. The fluid confidence she carries on the floor goes rigid. Her shoulders square, and she takes a half step back to restore the distance he eliminated. He says something I can’t hear over the music, leaning in with the body language of a man delivering a reasonable concern. She shakes her head once.
Then he reaches toward her hair.
It’s a small gesture. He lifts his hand to brush a strand behind her ear. It’s an intimate touch he hasn’t had the right to for months if he ever earned it at all. Aurora flinches. She pulls back her head, and her entire body tightens for a fraction of a second before she recovers and says something short and sharp. I see the word, “Leave,” form on her lips even from across the room.
Hayes smirks at her discomfort, as though her flinch confirms something he wanted to verify. He clearly likes that he still has access to her body’s involuntary responses even though she ended the relationship. He holds up both hands in mock surrender, says one more thing with a smile that looks forced, and walks toward the exit.
Aurora watches him go, not returning to work or anything else until the door closes behind him. Then she smooths her dress, adjusts the tablet in her hand, and turns back toward the floor. By the time she reaches the nearest VIP table, she’s workingagain as though nothing interrupted her. The recovery is fast and practiced. She’s done this before. Many times.
I’m out of my chair before I’ve decided to stand.
Dominic is near the bar, talking to his floor manager with a lot of hand gestures. I cross to him and wait until the floor manager leaves. Dominic sees me coming and straightens up, adjusting his jacket.
“Why is Eric Hayes allowed in this club?”
Dominic blinks. “He’s a homicide detective. I’m not getting on the bad side of a cop who could shut me down with one phone call.”
I take a half-step closer. “He’s here to harass your senior hostess on your floor during business hours, and he’s doing it off-duty.”
He shrugs. “Adrian, with all due respect, Aurora can handle Eric. She’s been dealing with him for months.”
That infuriates me. He’s dismissed this situation for months to avoid conflict? “She shouldn’t have to handle him at all. This is your venue, and she’s your employee. If a civilian walked in and cornered a staff member like Hayes just cornered Aurora, your security would have moved him out in thirty seconds.”
Dominic shifts his weight and adjusts his watch. “Look, he comes in once or twice a week. He doesn’t cause trouble, doesn’t drink much, and doesn’t stay long. Banning Aurora’s ex-boyfriend from the club creates more problems than it solves, especially when the ex carries a badge.” He adjusts his watch, buying himself a second he shouldn’t need.
“I’d bet he asks questions about the guest list too.”
He hesitates. It only lasts a moment, but it’s enough. “He asks general questions.”
“About whom?”
“About the room. Who comes in. Who books private space.” He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “I don’t give him specifics.”
“Has he asked about me?”
His slight flinch answers honestly before he tells me a lie. “Not directly.”
I hold his stare. “You shouldn’t be giving him anything.”
He nods once, too quickly. “Of course.”
I let the silence stretch a second longer than necessary, then turn and walk back to my table.
Viktor is already looking at me when I sit down. “Dominic told Hayes he doesn’t give specifics about the guest list. That means he’s been giving him something.”
Viktor nods once. “I’ll add it to the file.”
“Do that.” I pick up my whiskey. “That’s a second data point on Dominic’s judgment. He doesn’t get a third.”
Aurora reaches my table fifteen minutes later with an updated reservation schedule for the private room. She’s composed and showing no trace of what happened with Hayes. She moves through the handoff like nothing happened, and if I hadn’t been watching, I’d believe her.
