“Your numbers look good,” Parker says finally. “Revenue is up twelve percent from last quarter.”
“We run a tight operation,” McCoy says. His voice carries that particular condescension men use when they’re explaining things to women they don’t respect. “My girls know how to move product. Keep customers happy. Make sure money flows in the right directions.”
My girls.
The phrase sets my teeth on edge.
“Your staff,” Parker corrects gently. “You mean your staff knows how to maintain customer satisfaction.”
McCoy’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sure. Staff. Though between you and me, sweetheart, the pretty ones are worth more than all the bartenders combined. Men come to my clubs for the view as much as the drinks.”
Parker’s expression doesn’t change. Doesn’t react tosweetheartor the implication that women are only for decoration. “I’m sure they come for the atmosphere. Your venues have excellent reputations for entertainment and discretion.”
“Entertainment.” McCoy leans back, spreading his arms wide. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it. Your father understood the value of beautiful women in this business. Knew how to leverage assets.”
My holstered knife suddenly feels itchy and my palms feel hot.
“My father saw people as tools,” Parker says calmly. “I prefer to see them as investments. Tools break. Investments grow.”
“Investments.” McCoy laughs—short, dismissive. “You’ve been in California too long, Ms. Carter. Out here in the real world, some people are worth more than others. And women—especially beautiful ones—have their place.”
Jace shifts beside Parker. I can feel his tension radiating across the room.
“And what place is that?” Parker asks. Her voice is still calm. Still professional. But there’s steel underneath now.
“Supporting roles, mostly.” McCoy gestures vaguely. “Hostesses. Servers. A doll to dress up and play with. Your brother is smart, bringing you in for the psychology angle, but let’s be honest—you’re here because you’re family, not because you bring real value to operations.”
The room goes very quiet.
Cal’s voice in my ear: “Oh, he did not just?—”
Parker leans forward slightly. “Mr. McCoy, I appreciate your candor. So let me be equally candid. I’m not here because I’m family. I’m here because I have a master’s degree in behavioral psychology and six years of experience in strategic marketing and perception management. I’m here because I can read microexpressions that tell me when someone’s lying, assess power dynamics in seconds, and restructure negotiations to benefit everyone involved.”
“That’s lovely, sweetheart?—”
“Ms. Carter,” she corrects sharply. “And I’m not finished.”
McCoy’s eyebrows raise. Not used to being interrupted.
“You run three clubs that generate significant revenue,” Parker continues. “But your staff turnover is the highest of any operation in our organization. Seventy-three percent annually. Do you know what that costs? In training, in consistency, in institutional knowledge?”
McCoy’s jaw tightens. “Girls come and go. It’s the nature of the business.”
“Womenleave when they’re not valued,” Parker counters. “When they’re treated as expendable instead of essential. Your profit margins could increase by fifteen to twenty percent if you retained experienced staff. But that would require seeing them as people instead of pretty assets.”
“I don’t need a lecture from?—”
“A woman?” Parker finishes. “That’s hard to believe considering you seem to have difficulty thinking beyond the base expectations bestowed upon a caveman of your position. It’s not your fault, though, most idiots can’t see beyond a dopamine highlong enough to structure an original thought. That being said, I’ll put it simply: you need results. And I can deliver them. Unless you’d prefer to keep bleeding money through turnover while your competitors stabilize their operations.”
McCoy studies her, reassessing. “And how exactly would you do that?”
“Better compensation packages. Clear advancement opportunities. Respect.” Parker pulls out her tablet, swiping through data. “I’ve been reviewing your operations. The women you hire are smart—many have college degrees, speak multiple languages, and have connections you’re not utilizing. You’re wasting potential because you can’t see past their appearance to their actual value.”
“This is a club, not a charity?—”
“This is a business,” Parker corrects. “And businesses that treat employees well make more money. It’s basic economics.”
McCoy leans back, arms crossed. “You’re very confident for someone who’s been back less than a week.”
