‘They’re in,’ said Vicky, Suki’s friend, who was a gorgeous and very loud native New York brunette.

A ripple of interest went up from the other girls. Suki too. She was happy to be back in the club among all her pals, and . . . she couldn’t believe Claire had come and begged her to return. But she had. And she loved it.

Suki was learning more about her mother day by day, learning that everyone here loved and respected her, that she was The Boss, but a kind and benevolent one. She was learning that Claire was quiet, but not shy; strong as iron, but never aggressive. That she was admirable, likeable, with a quick smile and a gentle way with anyone in trouble.

She was so happy to be near to Claire. Grateful, too. She thought that a lesser woman would have turned her back on her for a second time, but Claire was something special. Her mother was special, she had to correct herself over and over. Not Claire. Her mother. Her mother had extended a welcoming hand even when Suki’s very existence must have brought unbelievable pain to her. That took both grace and guts, in Suki’s opinion.

‘In? Who?’ asked Suki.

‘The Greek boys. Spiro and Nikos. You seen them yet?’

Suki shook her head. She had never set eyes on the Constantinou boys and she was curious.

‘What are they like?’ she asked Vicky.

‘They’re big players. Rich enough to indulge themselves. The oldest one, Spiro, is kind of cute I think.’

When their shift started, Suki circulated with her tray and was kept busy for the first half an hour; then she took a moment at the bar and had a look over at the Greeks on their table right beside the stage. One was big and hook-nosed. Spiro. The other one was small, slight, and smiled a lot as Vicky and one of the other girls brought drinks to the table. That was Nikos.

There was another man at the table with them who didn’t look Greek though. He was big, even sitting down. He had close-cropped mid-brown hair feathering into grey, and a strong-boned face that was arrestingly handsome. There was a tough, very masculine look about him, and a cut over his brow, like he’d been in a fight. When the man turned his head she could see that his eyes were pale, maybe grey. She could see suffering, and sweetness, when she looked into those eyes. He was staring at her, frowning.

When she smiled at him, he just looked back at her, his expression blank. It made her feel nervous. So she moved away, went back to her tables.

87

87

Josh felt like he’d taken a punch straight to the gut.

Claire?