"I don't mind working into the evening. I have no other responsibilities that would keep me from being devoted to the position."
"Between now and a few weeks after opening, it will be long hours. It would be nice to have you here for all the training and even later into the shifts once we first open in case any issue were to arise."
"That won't be a problem."
Zane and I spend the next hour talking about the club and what I could do for them. We talk salary, which puts mine at Coffee House to shame, plus benefits.
"So, what is the title, exactly?" I ask.
Zane laughs. "We actually just decided on that before Crew left today. We settled on club administrator. You will be over the staff, just as Crew and I will be. The three of us will hopefully keep this a well-oiled machine. At least that's the goal. What do you think?"
"Off the record, I think I'm trying really hard not to get my hopes up." I laugh. "On the record, I feel as though my education and experience, although limited, would be a great asset to Club Titan."
Zane grins. "I could not have said it better myself. How much notice do you need to give Coffee House?"
Wait, what? "You mean?"
"Yes. Berklee, welcome to Club Titan."
It takes every single ounce of control that I have not to jump out of my seat and hug him. "Don't I need to meet Crew first?"
"No. He left this up to me. He trusts me and I trust you. I've known you forever, and I honestly think you're exactly what we were hoping to find."
I hold my hand out for him to shake. "Thank you, Zane. I promise I won't let you down."
He takes my hand and grins. "Now, how much time do you need to give them?"
"I want to give them two weeks. It's the right thing to do, but I don't know that they'll need me to stay that long. We have several people who want more hours. I've worked there all through college so I have seniority. Besides, most days I'm off at three, so I can come here after work. It would only be for two weeks, so I can start as soon as you need me to."
"Tomorrow, then. Be here at four?"
I nod.
"I'll introduce you to Crew and we can get started on all the employee paperwork. We've hired a few in the last two days but we're starting from scratch. You're going to have your work cut out for you."
"I got it," I tell him confidently. I do. This is what I went to school for.
"All right, be here tomorrow at four with all of those ideas you just rattled off."
"Thank you, Zane. I won't let you down."
With that I turn and make my way back down the hall and out onto the street. I focus on not walking too fast and not screaming and fist pumping into the air in celebration. It's not until I'm in the car and a block away that I let out a scream of excitement and do a little shimmy in my seat.
Things are looking up.
THREE HOURS LATER, I have my liquor license in hand. Apparently, I forgot to check a few boxes and they were going to deny me. Lucky for me I was able to lay on the charm and the lady was willing to sit down with me to help. We need an administrator yesterday.
Me: Any luck with the admin interview?
Zane: Yeah, I hired her. I think she'll be perfect for what we're looking for.
Me: Hell yes! When does she start?
Zane: Tomorrow at four.
Me: Even better. Thanks for taking care of that.
Zane: I got you.
I slip my phone back in my pocket and release a sigh of relief. Maybe now that we have an administrator, this feeling that I'm drowning, that I've taken on more than I bargained for, will go away.
My original plan was to head back to the club, but instead I'm going to go home and just relax for the night. Tomorrow starts a new day. Placing my truck in Drive, I try to put it all out of my mind and not worry about anything club related.
When I get home, I throw a frozen pizza in the oven, change into some sweats, grab a beer and turn on ESPN. Nothing like a little preseason football replay to clear the mind. The timer on the oven reminds me that dinner is ready. I don't bother with a plate, just cut the pizza into quarters and stand at the island to eat it. I have a clear view of the TV and it's less to clean up. That's the life of a bachelor.
Dinner done, I grab another beer and head to the couch to watch the game, but my mind drifts. Suddenly autumn-colored hair and sky blue eyes are all I see. With my focus on the club, I've had . . . a dry spell. Self-imposed, of course, but my body feels it. I try to block out the image of those tight black pants and focus on the game.
Fifteen minutes later I find myself staring blankly at the screen as I imagine what it would feel like to have that ass in my hands. Needing some relief, I slip my hand under the waistband of my sweats and palm my cock. I've gotten used to taking matters into my own hands since I made the decision to make the club my focus. No distractions.