“But he’s not looking good,” Candy goes on. “He’s been drinking a lot and he’s babbling about getting his legs broken.”
I stand up.What?“Okay, I’ll look in on him. Go on back to the floor.”
She nods and leaves. With all the pressures of running this club, the last thing I need is for Omar to have a mental breakdown on me.
I go up to his office and the moment that I walk through the door, I’m hit with the ripe smell of vodka. I don’t see Omar anywhere, but I hear the soft sound of sobbing by his desk. I walk all the way in the room until I can see around the far end of his desk.
“… Omar?”
He’s sitting on the floor, a half-empty bottle of vodka at his side. He jumps at the sound of my voice and turns to me. His eyes are rimmed red and his usually mocha colored skin is pale and sallow. Shamefully, he looks down at himself. His dress shirt is wrinkled and there are stains all over his slacks. How long has he been sitting in here?
“Hey.” He sniffles as he gets to his feet. It takes him a second as he wobbles slightly. “H–How’s everything going tonight?”
“I think the better question is what’s going on with you? Are you okay?”
He tries to smile, but it just doesn’t work. His face crumbles into despair as he shakes his head. “I’m afraid not, Ember.”
I walk up to him and take his hand, walking him over to his chair. “Let me get you some water,” I say once he’s sitting. As I get him a cup of water from the cooler in the corner, I hear him sniffling again.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t want you to find me this way. This is a pretty piss-poor representation of leadership, huh?”
I give him his water and sit on the edge of his desk. “Well, we’re all allowed to have our moments. And it’s pretty clear you’re having one. Want to talk about it?”
He pauses, looking at the water in his cup, then he shakes his head slowly. “It’s… it’s complicated.”
I shrug. “Try me. It might help to get it out.”
He gives me a shy glance before emptying the little Dixie cup and crushing it in his hand. “My brother just filed for bankruptcy.”
He just stops there. No more explanation. I clear my throat. “That’s terrible. This is the brother with the cleaning products, right?”
He nods. This news might be a shock to him, but it’s hardly a surprise to anyone else. Omar was using thatCleantastic!crap when I hired on. By my second week here, I found it was attracting ants by the hoards, so I had to have the cleaning crew switch things up. I never told Omar about it, mostly because I know he wanted to support his brother.
I feel a little bad now that I didn’t. If I’d known he’d take it this hard…
“The money just wasn’t coming in,” he said. “I invested about fifty grand in it.”
I cock my head curiously.Fifty grand?Is that what the mysterioussecurityfund was about? Why would he try to hide something like that?
“I was supposed to have made all of that back and then some,” he says. “The money from the club… that’s been going great since you signed on. But it hasn’t been enough to cover the fifty grand I lost.”
“So, you’ll make it back,” I tell him. “The club’s been pulling in big numbers lately. Our profit margin gets a little bigger every week. We’re doing fine financially. You’re nowhere near losing everything as far as I can see. And in about three or four more months, you’ll have that extra fifty grand. I’m sure of it.”
He regards me for a moment, then looks down at the crushed paper cup in his hands. “Yeah. The club is doing pretty good.”
“It’s doing great. Look, just wait until the summer. It’ll be fine.”
He takes a deep breath and stands up. I watch him slowly walk over to the trash can to throw away the crushed Dixie cup. He still looks like he’s lost his best friend.
“Is it your brother?” I ask him. “Because bankruptcy isn’t the end of the world. He can start something else up after his debts are cleared. And pretty soon, you’ll be able to help him out?—”
“I don’t think so, Ember,” he says with a little smile on his face. “It’s… it’s over, you know?” He clears his throat and straightens up. “You’re right. He’ll be fine and we’ll be fine. I guess I just… I was just overreacting.”
I match his smile, though this whole thing still feels odd. Omar’s never struck me as the hysterical type. I can’t help wondering what’s set him off so badly.
“How are we doing so far tonight?” he asks me.
“Good,” I say. It seems like the wrong time to bring up the finances. If his brother’s business sends him off the deep end like this, there’s no telling what this ‘security’ thing might do. “Everybody’s raking it in down there. I was hoping to get us listed inBack Doorby the end of the month. And we should actually start talking about running some specials for the summer?—”
