I listened as he explained the general project outline, asking him questions in all the appropriate places, trying to get a feel for how much thought he had put into his suggestions.
“Anyone can open a BDSM club,” he stated at one point, and I cocked my head to the side a bit. “I mean, no offense or anything, but it's not exactly a unique idea anymore. Perhaps it would've been, years ago when you opened this place…”
“Hey now, let's not make it sound like I am ancient or anything,” I teased. Sam's entire face flushed red.
“That's not what I'm… I didn't mean…” He combed his fingers through his hair, rocking slightly, and muttering under his breath.
I held up my hands to stop him. I needed to remember who I was dealing with and that Sam tended to take everything literally at times. “Relax, Sam. I was just teasing you.”
“Oh.” He stared at me a moment; his brow furrowed in confusion. “Sorry, I'm not used to this side of you. You’re always such a…”
I waited a beat, then two, as I gave him time to save himself. He slumped back in his seat. “An uptight prick?”
“No, that's not what I was going to say it all. You’re just usually so serious all the time.”
“So I've heard. I appreciate your candor, and I'm sorry if I've given you the idea that I am unapproachable. It wasn't my intention at all.”
“No, it's not really that. I have a hard time talking to most people,” he admitted, then sank deeper into the cushions. When he pinched and tugged on his lip, I was tempted to reach out and stop him.
I pulled two of the presentation slides Sam had printed off and set them on the table between us. While all of his ideas were feasible, these were the two that caught my eye. “Tell me more. How would you make this happen in the space that we currently have?”
“When I was working on the project, I was working with all hypotheticals,” Sam explained. “It may not even be possible without upsetting some of our existing clientele.”
“That's not what I asked, Sam. How would you take these two concepts and bring them to life?” I leaned against the back of the couch, resting one ankle on the opposite knee. I steepled my fingers in front of my mouth, eager to see if his ideas matched my own. I would have ultimate say of course, since The Lodge was the only one of my businesses that I was hands-on for the day-to-day operation, but maybe Sam was right. Maybe it was time for me to bring in some new blood with ideas to innovate and reinvigorate, so we could increase the profit margin.
“Right now, you have three different public or semi-public areas,” Sam explained. I cleared my throat to get his attention off his lap and on to me. “Sorry. I'm trying to work through everything in my head.”
“I don't want you trying to figure out what you think I want to hear,” I clarified. “Right now, all I care about is what you envisioned when you were working on this project.”
“We don't need three open areas like we have now. Sure, there are some nights when all of them are you in use, but the space could be better served by taking the two smaller rooms and creating spaces where people from certain communities felt like they’re not only welcome, but catered to.” He glanced up at me, and I nodded.
“It's not part of the original project because I was worried about what people would say if I had to make a presentation, but I have some drawings and lists. If you'd like to see.”
I held out my hand, trying to tamp down my impatience. This was his only misstep so far, and it was one I could forgive. Just asking Sam to sit down with me was forcing him outside of his comfort zone. He dug through his messenger bag and handed over another folder filled with papers.
He might have thought they were rudimentary, but I thought they were brilliant.
“I like these,” I told him. “What would you say if I put you in charge of trying to get one of the two off the ground?”
Sam perked up, sitting straighter, and his shoulders squared for the first time since I had walked into the office.
“Which one are you most interested in?” The boy was practically bouncing in his seat. I had never seen him play at The Lodge, but I got the impression it wasn't a foreign concept to him when he had first applied for a management position.
Sam gnawed on his lip as he looked over both concept drawings. He glanced up at me, then back down at the paper, then back to me.
“Would it be okay if I take a couple of days to give you an answer? I will admit, I wasn't prepared for you to agree to anything, much less ask me to make a decision this big.”
Thinking was the last thing I wanted Sam to do. I could see the color draining from his face the longer he considered which direction we should go. The more time I gave him, the more uncertain he would become.
“Let's meet again on Monday, next week,” I suggested. “I’m hoping to take that night off, but I will have to come in and do some paperwork. We could talk then, and that will give me time to talk to my brother-in-law and get some contractor recommendations.”
I wouldn't have to talk to Eli to get the list. I knew every contractor who had worked on the renovation of the dilapidated building in the district that eventually became Club 83. No one knew I had been the one who footed the bill to help my brother’s partner achieve his dream. I was still a stakeholder in the club but, other than that, I was completely hands-off. Eli and I both thought it would be simpler that way so no one could come back later and say there was a conflict of interest or anything like that.
“This is a pretty big deal,” Sam said. “Are you sure you don't want to be in charge of it?”
I shook my head. It was time for me to take a step back. For too many years now, I demanded complete focus for myself, and it'd come close to costing me everything. Sure, I had a well-padded bank account, but I was starting to realize monetary success was one of the least important things in life. “You are going to do this, Sam. And if the first concept is a hit—and I have complete faith it will be—then you are going to implement the other one as well. You’re a bright young man, and I’m hopeful about your future here as long as you want to stay.”
“Thank you, Jack. You don't know how much it means that you have this level of faith in me.”
I was pretty certain I did. I stood, and Sam did the same. I shook his hand before gathering the papers. “Do you mind if I take these home with me?”
“Go ahead. I had copies made for you.”
Of course, he did. Sam was nothing if not organized. He checked the time. “I'd better get out there. We’re going to be opening soon, and I want to make sure everything is ready.”
“Take a breath, Sam. Everything's going to be fine.” I watched him leave and then flopped back on the couch. I scrubbed a hand over my face, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.
I couldn’t let a fleeting interaction with a broken boy change the entire course of my life.
Maybe this was the start of a midlife crisis. Only time would tell.
