Page 51 of Their Pup to Tame

Around the table, some checked their phones, others jotted notes on the corners of their packets.

“You’ll have enough bodies,” Grandma said, shooting pointed looks at everyone.

“I’d like two guys in the security room too,” I said, enthusiastically continuing with the presentation now that theywere on board with the changes. “With the rear door and fences to contend with as well as being an eye in the sky to monitor everything happening inside the club, one guy already has his hands full. Adding the camera to monitor the line will split their focus too much. I feel like it’s grown into a position that requires two at the very least, though ideally, I would prefer to have a three-man team in there.”

“Sounds like you’ll need to hire a few more bodies,” Grandma said.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ve got a numbers breakdown on the next page. I’d like to bring in four more bouncers to help cover the new zones I’ve drawn up within the club, and then one extra person for the door and two more for the security office. I’d like to offer the head office position to Titan, now that he’s home. I’m afraid that putting him out front with his, well, presence, would be inviting trouble.”

For the first time since the start of the meeting, Grandma’s visage changed from one of grim disappointment to pleased, before she turned to look at Mz. Ginger, who nodded, her features having softened as well. Titan was her grandson and a former military police officer until he’d been injured in a jet ski accident while stationed in Key West. He’d returned home scarred and in a wheelchair, and had been struggling to find employment ever since, from all I’d heard.

“Have you talked with him about this?” Mz. Ginger asked.

“Yes, ma’am, he’s the one who helped me revise the zones and adjustments to the interior security camera placements,” I explained. “He’s already agreed to take the job and run the security booth if the new positions were created.”

“I like these new zones,” Grandma said. “Though I’m curious to know what made you think of them?”

“An incident that almost took place between two of the dancers,” I explained and held up the page with the diagram I’d drawn. “While Malachi and I were hurrying to get from here to here, it was frustrating how many obstacles there were. Having bouncers in the center zone, instead of being wallflowers waiting for signs that something is kicking off, would be more beneficial to the dancers who rely on us to get to them quickly if someone gets out of line, as well as to patrons whose interactions have grown heated. I don’t know why jealous idiots think coming to the strip club with their significant other is a good idea. For that matter, I have no idea why people with jealous significant others would stick around and put up with that behavior, but before the Big Jim situation, that’s the kind of drama we dealt with most.”

“If everyone has had the opportunity to look at the price breakdown sheet and purchase orders for the security portion of the presentation, I would like to move this forward to a vote. This is the kind of problem-solving I can appreciate and back wholeheartedly. Had you two shown up here telling me you would look into things, I’d have been looking into replacing you both.”

Oh, shit…I guess my new position was official enough that I was now officially at risk of losing it if I didn’t deliver the way she needed me to. Deep down I’d known that would be the case when I’d spoken to Uncle James about stepping up, and I was good with it, despite the sudden surge of fear that tore through me at the threat. It was like I could hear Aspen’s and Parker’s voices in my head, telling me to focus, breathe, and not get spun out, that I could handle the tasks I’d volunteered for. Besides, I had them to bounce ideas off whenever I needed to.

Uncle Glenn had told me the same thing and, like Titan, had worked with me on the proposal. Uncle Glenn been the one to choose the previous cameras and security system we were working with and felt the same as I did. With the upgrades in technology, it was high time the old system was replaced.

“All in favor,” Grandma said while I held my breath, waiting to see how many hands went up.

Turns out there was no need for self-asphyxiation, it was unanimous.

“Phoenix, I want those purchase orders submitted first thing Monday morning and the paperwork for the permits too. I’ll want to do a walkthrough once everything is in place, so let me know once the final pieces have been installed so you can take me through them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

We moved to the renovation model then, which meant I could sit back and sip the ice water in my glass while Uncle James took over, at least until he got to the cocktail line. That was my baby, and I’d outlined a bullet point presentation for it too.

“What about a signature classics line?” Mz. Ginger asked, “Or better still, let’s call it legends. I’d love to get in on that, and I’m willing to bet others here would be too.”

Hands went up, enough that we could easily put together a rollout event for those cocktails too. I started scribbling notes on the margin of the paper, including the names of those who were interested in taking part.

“Mz. Ginger, would there be a good day for us to sit down and talk marketing and launch strategies, as well as an eventstructure that would be different from the signature cocktail launch?”

“Absolutely, we’ll touch base after the meeting and line something up,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said.

Watching people get excited about my ideas was a different feeling. I was used to just being the muscle, the guy who stepped in to take the hit so our stunning array of talent didn’t wind up a mess of scars.

Like me.

Shit, no thinking about that today.

The meeting broke up a short time later, following votes to proceed with all the changes in the proposal, including the addendum I hastily penned to include the legends cocktail line. I was standing off to the side, nibbling on a slice of bruschetta with basil pesto and shrimp, waiting on Mz. Giner to finish a conversation, when my grandmother appeared by my arm.

“Walk with me for a moment,” she said, and headed for the door, leaving me no choice but to follow, though I did grab another slice of bruschetta on the way out of the meeting room.

She led me into her study, but instead of sitting behind her desk, she took a seat on the long leather sofa in front of the window and patted the seat next to her.

“That proposal you put together was impressive,” she declared. “And showed me that you’re both creative and motivated enough to take the ideas you have and turn them into something others can get behind. What I want to know is what took you so long to speak up?”