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My eyes get a little wider. Well, that’s not something I knew about Drake, but I guess you learn new things about people every day.
“Whatever you want,” I reply.
“Cool. I’m down,” he says casually, as if he didn’t just accept an invitation to publicly fuck a group of people while in a workday business meeting.
When I glance in Hunter’s direction, I notice his jaw has tightened and his nostrils flare. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he doesn’t love this idea very much.
Too bad for him because I’m elated. This will be great for the voyeur hall. “See?” I say in triumph, looking at the boss man at the end of the table.
He looks less than impressed. “We need more than groups and regulars. We need professionals.”
My brow furrows. “Like what, porn stars?” This is the first time he’s ever brought up hiring professional performers for the club. It was never about the entertainment. It was always about the people and their experience.
“Yeah. Or…camgirls?”
And with that, my blood runs cold.
“No,” I bark, pointing a finger at him. “I know what you’re thinking and I’m saying absolutely not.”
Emerson is fucking relentless, though. “We could really use her perspective, Garrett. She could help us with the hall.”
I force a long inhale, willing myself to calm down. “No. My stepsister thinks I run a nightclub. She’s not stepping foot into Salacious. Ever.”
He exhales. “Okay, I understand. But that’s not all.”
Oh, great. “What?” I ask.
“VIP had a negative intake month,” he says, and my heart falls again.
“Down fourteen, up twelve,” Maggie adds. I feel all eyes in the room on me as I take in this information. This is my territory. Keeping people happy and keeping them coming—literally and figuratively. But obviously, I’m failing.
“Don’t panic,” Emerson replies, noticing my souring mood. “We just need new, enticing ideas to bring people in. They can have sex at home, but we need to give them a reason to do it here.”
Hunter interjects, “I have the BDSM demonstrations scheduled for next quarter. A shibari showcase and an impact play workshop.”
“Good,” Emerson replies with a nod. “People want to try it. They just don’t know how. What else?”
“We need an event. A big event,” I say, knowing that that’s the simplest answer. The auctions do well, but we need something fresh. Something different. Something so magnetic and sexy and tempting, prospective members can’t say no to. Something with a following or fan base we can utilize.
And I hate that my mind has settled on this idea because, technically, Emerson already brought it up. But he’s right. If we bring in performers, it could be the boost the club needs. We’re at the three-month mark, and it’s a make-or-break period for new clubs. We can either establish a solid foundation or we can crumble under the pressure.
“What do you have in mind?” Emerson asks, like he can see my wheels turning.
“You’re right,” I mutter. “If we brought in camgirls and porn stars, they could advertise to their fans. Put on a live show. It would bring in a huge crowd.”
“I like it,” he replies.
“It would have to be invitation-only. Cap attendance and offer them a free month of membership for attending the event with optional VIP upgrade.”
When I glance up at him again, he looks pleased.
“We’re going to need more than the hall, though. It can’t handle a crowd. Drake, could you set up a temporary structure in the main hall?”
“Like a theater?” he asks.
I sigh. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. Would they even do it? Perform up on stage, doing…what they do?
“Yeah, like a theater.”
