Page 98 of Bad Boy Next Door
The club was quiet for a Saturday night, and ever since I’d tried to quit, my distaste for the place had grown. It wasn’t hard to see how to make this place better. If Stan treated the staff with some dignity, cleaned the restrooms, improved the food, we’d get a better clientele and make more money. No doubt. But even if the bottom line remained the same, it would be a better place to work—better for the customers, too.
Twice tonight a group of twentysomething-aged men had come in, immediately turned up their noses, and walked back out. They looked like tech-industry types with lots of cash to spend, but our drink prices were way out of whack with Solid Gold’s scuzzy vibe. That was another reason we didn’t make enough bank. Half the customers came in drunk or snuck in flasks.
The new cocktail waitress yelled at Miguel. I glanced toward the bar as Tonya stomped over and then shoved the new girl. Miguel rolled his eyes and walked away from the escalating fight.
I shook my head. Managing the cocktail waitresses was the bartender’s job, and Miguel reported to Stan, who must be seeing this from the one-way glass in his office, but the chances of him caring enough to come down were slim to none.
Leaving my post at the door, I crossed to the bar. “Ladies.” I caught their attention. “What’s going on?”
“Bitch took my table!” the new girl yelled.
Tonya jabbed the new girl’s chest. “Learn your job. Table ten is mine.”
“Hey.” I shook my head at Tonya. “How about we keep our hands to ourselves? Customers don’t need to see this.”
“What customers?” the new waitress said. “Barely any tonight, and according to this bitch they’re all in her section. How am I ’posed to earn with no customers?”
I looked over to Miguel, but he was polishing glasses, actively ignoring this.
“What’s your name?” I asked the new girl.
“Jenni, with an i.”
“Okay, Jenni with an i, there’s no hostess here. The customers sit where they want, so some nights you might not get many in your section, other nights you’ll get plenty.”
“Not if I’m on shift with this bitch!” Jenni yelled. “She’s got every fucking table along the stage! I’ve got shit.” She gestured toward the club space. “Six tables along the back. Only two customers all night, and they already had their two-drink minimums. Fucking draft beers!”
“That right, Tonya?” I turned to the veteran. “Is that the way Miguel divided the sections?” She wouldn’t lie straight to my face.
Tonya stuck out one of her hips, and raised her chin. “She’s new. She’s gotta learn the ropes. She’s too slow. Customers get mad.”
I glanced over to the sparse crowd, gathered mostly at eight tables in front of the stage. “Okay. How about for tonight, you split the floor down the middle.” I gestured to a dividing line. “That way you each get some customers.”
“You’re not our boss,” Tonya pouted.
“Then let’s ask Miguel.”
Tonya held up her hand to stop me. “Miguel told me to train this bitch. Give her whatever tables I wanted.”
I sighed. “How about you try it my way for a while. If either of you get busy, help each other out? Okay?”
Tonya glared at Jenni. I lightly touched Tonya’s shoulder. “Do it for me?”
“Okay, Nick.” She picked up her tray. “But I’m taking the right side.”
She walked toward the customers on her clacking stilettos.
I turned to find Keagan standing near the door to the club. He raised his chin in a hello and smiled.
“Hey, little brother.” He clapped my back when I joined him. “How’s the stripper business this fine night?”
“Shitty now that Jade’s gone.”
“You liked your woman working here?” Keagan glanced around.
“You’re right.” I shook my head. “It was always shitty.” Just more bearable when I got to see her.
“Well, I’m here to end your misery.”
