Alana and I go back to when I started to really make some money so wanted to hire a manager so I wasn’t spending every waking hour at the club. She immediately started to make my life easier. I pay and treat her well.
I almost didn’t hire her when she fucked up the interview. She – a single mother with two kids - was down on her luck and even though she fucked up by showing late then had a wardrobe malfunction that led me to believe she was trying to get the job by seducing me, she gave me a speech while she sat there sewing the busted button back onto her shirt while explaining through tears but with strength and conviction that she needed the job so she could take care of her two boys.
She said her jackass ex used to drink and knock her around and died after they split in a work accident that was his fault because he operated machinery while drunk and had also lied about being a smoker on top of that on his life insurance, so no payout. Her speech and her demeanor made me give her a shot. Probably my own childhood issues, but this chick was willing to work her ass off to prove to me that I didn’t make a mistake hiring her so she could take care of her two little boys and her aging mother. She succeeded wildly, proving herself to be my most valuable employee and an all-round decent human. Alana always has my back.
Hennessy strolls toward me with his very pregnant wife. He’s directly behind Violet who’s returning from the restroom.
I see Hennessy’s eyes on Violet’s ass and find that I’m grinding my teeth. Rising, I give the guy a look that would make most people wither. Violet’s eyes on me with confusion, so I clear my expression as I pull her chair out for her. As soon as she’s sitting, I turn and shake Hennessy’s hand. “Henny, man. Welcome.”
“This place, Kill. Fuckin’ awesome. I love it.”
“Janine. Hey.” I hug his wife.
They both smile at Violet expectantly.
“This is Violet. Violet, Hennessy Baxter and his wife Janine.”
Violet’s smile slips just briefly but she recovers easily and rises, shaking hands with them. And I’m impressed with her ability to look calm, though I know by her eyes that she’s faking it because she’s well-aware that this is the bookie the ass-wipe owed money to. Hennessy clearly doesn’t know her.
There’s small talk for a couple minutes and then someone else approaches to say hello so he and Janine head to the gaming floor to catch demos and play games.
An appetizer platter is set on our table and the next half an hour goes by in a blur as people visit to congratulate me.
Finally, I look to Violet who is smiling as another couple head down to the gaming floor and I’m about to ask if she wants to play any games when Jagger and Jessa approach the table. Jag has apology written all over his face as he approaches and I can see that his sister’s eyes are razor-sharp and on Violet.
25
Violet
Numbers is impressive.
Killian certainly seems to have a head for business. With this in addition to what I saw at Genesis last night, he is making sure he hits multiple demographics of people who want entertainment. He’s got things covered across his clubs from people in their twenties who want a fun adult arcade party experience, onwards to successful and mature people who want a night out in an upscale environment where they can buy top shelf drinks and sit on luxurious furniture and still play gambling games or watch sporting events.
I’m impressed.
I’m about to tell Killian this when a couple approaches the table.
The guy has dark hair and blue eyes. He looks like a movie star. The gorgeous blonde at his side is looking at me, though, and she’s looking at me with daggers shooting from her eyes.
I get a rush of butterflies. This sensation is not too different from the bad flutters I got when Ray’s bookie and his wife came to the table earlier. Thankfully, the guy didn’t seem to know who I was.
“Jägermeister,” Killian greets with a drawl, standing up and doing a bro-shake and a bro hug simultaneously with the other guy who heartily hugs back, while giving me a wide smile.
And then there’s a beat of tension before definite animosity as Killian looks at the woman beside him. “Don’t pull any shit here, Jess. So help me,” he warns.
I watch, surprised at the sinister look that crosses his face just briefly before his expression blanks out.
The woman rolls her eyes and then puts her arms around his neck and tries to rub her nose over his like an Eskimo kiss. “Not to worry, Pooky, I’ll be sweet.”