Chapter 9—Tommy
One month later
“Enter,” I call out to the person who knocked on my office door, looking up, hopeful.
“That look for me or the coffee?” Dante asks as he places my caffè down and takes a seat.
I grab the cup and bring it to my lips, sipping slowly to avoid burning my tongue. It’s sickeningly hot, just how I like it. “Depends. You bring me any good news?”
“The contractors got back to us. They agreed to our timeframe of a week, but it’ll cost.”
I sigh heavily and shake my head softly so I don’t spill my coffee.
“Always does. What else?” I expected them to put up a fight on the price if we asked them to do the work of four weeks in one.
And while we might be in the red for a bit longer, we will more than make up for the lost revenue and debt once the outside of the club is more appealing.
I worked hard to get it the way I want it. Now we just need to finish the last bit of curb appeal to bring in a few more heavy pockets. Something I’ll have to remind Bobby about when he calls and complains about the price tag after I sign the check.
“Cold seems to be going around,” Dante continues as he leans back comfortably in his chair.
The first task we had the contractors take on was to get me a proper office.
Half the staff have no clue where it is.
They just know I go to a door marked Private behind the bar.
In reality, it’s a stairway leading up to the converted private viewing loft that now doubles as my office.
My desk takes up a third of it, but the rest is open for whatever might occur, from meetings to perhaps, one day, a private party or something of that nature.
It’s wide enough to hold a dozen people comfortably.
Nothing too big, only small groups, but those can be the most intimate.
And it has the best view of everything happening on all three stages: the main one and the smaller ones on either side.
The stage layout looks like a dick from this upper angle.
It also gives me a bird’s-eye view of everything else. Including what isn’t on the ground but rather flies high in the sky.
I clear my throat, focusing back on Dante’s daily report. He’s become a manager of sorts around here.
Carl is still around, but his time is coming. I haven’t killed him yet, though that’s only because I need to know who’s pulling his strings and where the famiglia’s money went. Once I find that out, he’s gone.
Bobby still says someone’s stealing from us.
He’s been reviewing the club’s books weekly now, using that big brain of his.
Based off our calculations of what we bring in, we’re short on cash.
Bobby’s estimates from the waitstaff and dancers don’t line up either.
It’s a smaller amount, but we’re still not clear on where it’s missing from.
Each way we look at it, we can’t seem to figure out who’s taking it.
And I’m not about to show my hand that I know theft is happening.
For now, I’m just looking into the matter, taking in all the intel Dante gives me and watching from my little tower, looking for anything that doesn’t belong.
Vinny is getting anxious. Wants this song and dance over with.
However, the improvements I’ve made so far have already increased his profit, so despite the money loss, he’s still getting a bump.
Which is the only reason he hasn’t let Danny come in and just kill everyone.
That might kill the thief, or not. We won’t know, and that’s what I’ve been using to keep them all at bay.
We need to find the one in charge to see if it goes beyond this one club.
To see if it’s just Carl the rat and this puppet master in play, or if we have more enemies we don’t know about.
Guess the neck wound’s good for something. Now I look for what’s behind me, not just what’s in front. For the slash to the throat we never expected.
Kind of like what happened to me. And by kind of, I mean exactly like that.
“Two waitstaff and one dancer called in sick.” He raises his hand before I even open my mouth.
“I’ve already got someone coming in to cover the waitstaff, and the dancer won’t be missed, as I had her on a side stage.
I changed things around on the schedule to allow for an extra performance from the new act to make up for it.
It’ll be tight, but the girls know to make the most of it, and none of them complained about possibly vying for attention from more than one customer. ”
I nod as I take another sip. Makes sense. And the new act does wonders with fire. A very talented young lady. She has promise here for sure. Her and her partner, who does sword swallowing.
I chuckle to myself at the thought of how many protested me hiring a male act, saying men come here for one thing, and a dick isn’t it. But after the man easily swallows ten inches or more when he performs, the girls have some of their best nights ever.
The crowds have been slow to change, but more and more of the clientele that Vinny was hoping would come around have in the last few weeks. It’s also better if those who work for us spend their money at our own places. It’s the circle of life at its finest.
“Anything else?” I set my empty cup on the saucer as I glance at the time on my phone.
We’re just getting started for the night.
Never knew that me working all the time would be a thing I thrive on, but Vinny chose right.
I’m more than capable of staying up night after night compared to my brothers.
Dante crosses his legs and picks at invisible lint on his pants, looking down and not at me. Something he rarely does.
“What is it?”
“A certain jewel is missing.”
I raise both eyebrows at that and tilt my head, a silent question of if he’s being serious.
A single nod is all he gives me.
“Interesting.”
“Thought you should know.”
Dante and I have done well working this closely for years.
We know certain things about each other, sometimes even before the other does.
And while I haven’t been avoiding the subject, talking about the girls has never come up unless an issue occurs or if we think one person would be better in a lineup than another.
Neither of us is here for anything but the job. And while we might notice the girls, rarely do we watch them.
Except when the Crown Jewel performs. I would say it’s random that I seem to come out of the office during her shifts to check on things on the floor, but I won’t tarnish Dante’s and my friendship so cheaply.
He knows it, and I know it. We won’t speak of it, but we both know where my eyes travel most nights when I do my rounds. Hell, he’s even seen them linger longer than necessary when I catch a glimpse of her flying from my office.
This is the first incident that’s ever happened with her since I took over.
All the others have been warned. The first warnings usually come from Dante. The second is from me, followed by an escort out. So far, no one has been foolish to have a second misstep.
“Let me know when it’s found.” The unspoken part of me handling the warning is understood.
“Will do.” He stands and exits quickly.
I sit in silence and run my finger along the rim of my coffee cup, thoughts of the past month taking over any attempt to focus on the current job.
We’ve done a lot in that time, and there’s more to come.
So far, we’ve had very few incidents, but I’m not foolish enough to think we’ll never have them.
The security team has dropped to the initial four I thought we would maintain on sight.
The bartender we hired is doing well, and we even have a full waitstaff to support us, not just a few of the girls taking drink orders between their dancing shifts.
No lines to get in just yet, but I feel as though the time is coming.
Word of mouth is spreading about the new acts, and new faces are showing up daily.
Once we get the facelift outside that I’m hoping for, I bet we’ll have to start turning people away due to overcrowding.
The ping of an incoming text has me glancing at my phone for a second before I stand and pull on my jacket. I take my time straightening my cuffs under the sleeves and fastening the top button before pocketing my phone and heading out of my office, locking the door behind me as I go.
Maybe one day I’ll trust everyone here, but till then, a locked door will give me peace of mind for my own personal office. That and the cameras we have watching every spot in this place, except for a select few like the inside of my office, which I keep off the record for a reason.
I jog down the stairs quickly and exit the private door at the back of the bar before I head to the dressing room.
I give a few nods to the people who pass, but this group learned early on that I’m not one to stop and chat.
I take after Vinny in that matter. You don’t come to me—I come to you.
And if I do, then you know you fucked up.
I always enjoyed watching Vinny do it, and I’m all for following in his footsteps.
Danny has the same approach, sort of. He doesn’t have people come to him, but he doesn’t go to people either.
He just kills them. Or has it done for him.
Bobby is the talker of the group. Well, more than the rest. He uses his words and knowledge to disarm someone before they even know a confrontation was about to arise.
Milly was the one who ran from people, but only to keep others safe.
Which reminds me, I need to send my nephew a gift.
It might not be his birthday or any holiday that typically involves presents, but what’s the point of being an uncle if I can’t spoil him?
I doubt my other brothers do, and since the kid just met us, I prefer to bribe him into picking his favorite. Me, of course.
“Good evening, ladies,” I say as both a warning and a heads-up that I’m coming into their dressing room.