The employees
771 Words
They sat watching the dancers, James, still holding her hand, comforting her, when they noticed Frank approaching.
Frank had been one of the handful of prior employees that she'd kept on when she'd purchased the club.
He was a straight shooter. Blunt with his words, but courteous. Respectful with a take-no-bullshit kind of attitude. She'd always liked him.
They day of the transfer, she'd shown up looking like an owner. She strode through the club, taking notice of everyone and everything. There was pushback in the form of sneers. She knew legitimizing the club would be an uphill battle, however, she'd braced herself for the backlash.
She asked him into the office and quickly settled herself in the office chair for an investigative conversation. He had been the overseer of the club, but had no official title, just lots of responsibilities. She point blank asked him how he felt working for a female boss. His answer was straightforward. "As long as my income doesn't decrease."
She breathed a sigh of relief, chuckled to herself and relaxed into a heart-to-heart. By the end of an hour, she knew who to keep, what changes to make going forward, account indiscretions, and all the unsavory speculations. She made him her General Manager and doubled his salary. He had been fiercely loyal from that moment on.
Changes were swift and relentless. There were no second chances, and she made that very clear. There was no room for slackers, pimps, drug dealers or employee harassment. She took no pride in eliminating a persons only source of income, but she had no intention of running a shithole.
The last conversation she had was with the dancers. She'd gathered everyone into her office.
Over the last 15 years, she'd learned a thing or two about the conditions, but wanted their input. The customers were coming in to see them, after all.
Upgrades to bring the building to code were mandatory, however, creating a safe space for her girls was also a priority.
She wrote on a legal pad as each of the ladies threw out grievances.
Some were basic human rights, while others were just common decency.
She herself even pointed out some of the items that hadn't been listed, causing the girls to look at one another in awe that they hadn't come up with them themselves.
Her only request with warning- no prostitution. No drugs. No excuses. No grey area. No second chance. Everyone understood and agreed.
She wanted an open door policy.
She wanted them respectful of each other. In return, each of the items on the list would be taken into consideration, and a compromise reached, if not completed, as written.
One of the veteran dancers that showed promise had been made 'mother hen.' Charmaine. She still had the opportunity to dance. She had regulars that loved her both onstage and in the champagne room. But her new primary function was to make sure the girls were taken care of. Coordination with the bouncers, community outfits, training, even down to water in the dressing room.
Eyes and ears for the dancers.
It was a pay increase along with a management position.
She reported directly to Frank, as did the head bouncer.
"There's a problem." Frank said as he scooted into the booth. Charmaine is having difficulty with one of the newer girls.
Kris' eyebrows raised waiting to hear the problem.
"She found drugs in her bag."It was a matter-of-fact kind of tone, but she showed no change in her emotions.
Instead, she nonchalantly asked, "what kind?"
"Pills."
"Ok." She could have added, 'aaand,' but chose not to at the last minute.
"She's selling them to her clients."
"Ah. You should have led with that."
Frank made a scrunched face. He probably should have.
"Bring her to me. And the pills too."
Frank disappeared amongst the sizeable group and when he returned, was holding this 20-something girl with one hand and holding a baggie in the other.
He stopped once he arrived at the table, laid the pills down and let her go.
"Sarah, right?"
The very frightened girl nodded her head. "Sit."
The girl sat.
"You know my policy, don't you?"
Sarah nodded.
"But yet you still chose to risk my reputation, your livelihood, and your clients freedom...why?"
Her tone was even and her voice firm, but inside, she was matching the expression of this young girl - Remorse and sadness.
Sarah's face was in her hands while she was sobbing. You could hear the grief and guilt in her shaky voice.
"I didn't want to. He said I didn't have a choice."
"Who?"
- Writer
