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How did I not see this sooner? Ricky is definitely not suited for this job. I can’t fire someone for poor hygiene, and even if I can’t prove he stole Shelly’s tips as Lara claims, he bailed on his shift before we closed last night, leaving me alone with a cat fight I needed him to handle.
“It’s over, Rick.”
Our part-time bouncer, Danny, arrives just then. “Sup, Ricky. Jamie.”
“Afternoon, Danny,” I reply.
Danny grins a boyish smile as he approaches the steps to the club. He’s half Ricky's size, but he has always been reliable. "I've never worked a Sunday crowd. This should be easy," Danny says, as he approaches Ricky, who is still standing in the doorway.
Ricky's upper lip curls in a snarl as he steps aside to let Danny slip past him into the club foyer. "This is a fucking joke, man," Ricky growls.
"I'll give you a recommendation for your next job." It's a lie, but he's already overstaying his welcome, and if I piss him off, I'm afraid he might make a scene. Either that or punch me. Which, I guess, would be a scene in and of itself. And I'd rather not get unconscious this early on a Sunday.
Ricky clenches his fists and tenses his shoulders, his stare piercing through me like a laser. I slip my hand in my pocket, readying myself to dial 9-1-1 in case Ricky goes postal. No way Danny is going to be able to handle Ricky by himself. We hire bouncers to handle the regular guests who get a little overzealous with the girls. But we don’t have bouncers to bounce the bouncers.
Ricky lets it go, and turns toward the parking lot, shaking his head. "You're a shit boss anyways, Jamie." He stomps out the door, slamming it behind him so hard I expect the safety glass to shatter.
When I turn around, my entire staff is mulling around in the lounge area, pretending to be working. The only person missing is Lara. Her shift doesn’t start for another fifteen, but I guess a part of me expected her to show up early.
Shelly is the only person directly holding my gaze. Her expression is flat, but I really couldn’t care much less. If it's true that Ricky was stealing her tips, she should be thanking me. Everyone else is avoiding looking at me, but it's pretty obvious from their body language that they've been listening. How could they not? It’s not like it didn’t happen right in the middle of the club. The only person to speak up is Danny.
"Wait, you fired Rick?"
God, please don't let today be a shit show. All right, time to set this straight. "Everyone, gather around. We open in an hour and I need to make one thing clear. We are reversing back to the new dance rotation procedure. The one we've been doing this week. Split tips. Dancers on the top spots based on guest surveys."
Shelly opens her mouth to object and I raise my hand.
"I’m not asking permission, and I don’t care. This is how we're doing it."
Marla eyes Shelly from across the room, and the vision of last night’s catfight flashes before my eyes. "And no fighting. I'm serious. We have enough drunken customers to start shit between our staff. If you have issues with someone you work with, talk to me about it after your shift and I'll handle it. And if you can't follow those rules, then you don't have to work here." I take a long look at Shelly. "I mean it."
Do I sound believable? I'm hoping that firing Ricky will prove my point, but if one of them walks out now, I'm in trouble. When no one moves, I nod. "All right, then. Let's get ready for a good show tonight."
The staff disperses in a few directions, as if magically they have all simultaneously finished whatever they were urgently working on during Ricky’s outburst. Only Shelly stays behind, approaching me at the bar.
"Shell, where's Juno?" I ask.
Shelly folds her arms across her chest. "She quit."
"What? When?"
"Last night. After you stormed out, so she wanted me to give you that message."
"Great. She was supposed to dance today."
"Well, I'm supposed to be working the lounge, but I can take her spot on stage."
Of course, Shelly would say that. "And then who would be in the lounge?"
"Shell!"
A big busted petite blonde with green eyes pushes through the front door and lets out a gleeful shriek. Half her ass is hanging out of a pair of sky-high shorts. Who the hell is this?
"Maddie!" Shelly's tone matches the girl's perfectly. "Just in time!"
"What's this?" I ask.
Shelly grins. "Well, after Juno quit last night, I called Maddie and asked her if she could help out. We went to high school together. Figured you could use the help."
