So, lots of people, lots of money, lots of style. The place had great potential.
I checked out the predominantly Western staff: two bouncers inside, four on the door. The two internals were both holding court to groups of ladies, clearly turning on the charm. In my experience, it was a familiar scenario with door stewards. As soon as you gave them a black tie and a title, they walked like a cowboy and became irresistible to women.
My eyes strayed to the door, then locked on to Mr Adonis, who’d spoken to me when I entered. He was staring back with a look that combined disdain with mild amusement. Were my knickers showing? Was the fluorescent lighting making me look like I had dandruff?
The sound of glass smashing interrupted my thoughts. I swivelled round to see an obviously intoxicated guy looking extremely wet, picking maraschino cherries out of his hair and being yelled at by an outraged Sandra Bullock look-alike. What a waste of a good cocktail.
I watched as Mr Adonis swiftly interjected. He had crossed the room and was now calmly steering one confused drunk to the nearest exit. I was impressed.
Thirty seconds later, he was back and negotiating with the female. I could see her face snarling in anger, then gradually mellowing into a smile as he replaced her drink and calmed her down. Here we go, I thought, predator goes in for the kill – soon they’ll be exchanging phone numbers and she’ll be gazing into his eyes in adoration. But that didn’t happen. He just made sure that she was happy and then returned to his post at the door. Smooth.
I glanced back to the two internal guys. Both were still engrossed with their groupies, oblivious to all that had occurred. There could have been an all-out riot and these guys wouldn’t have noticed. Somehow I felt that their employment was about to come to an abrupt end.
I studied the bar staff for the next hour. It was a bigger scam than the Maxwell pension fund. There were eight waiting staff and nine bartenders. Three of the bar workers were under-pouring and under-ringing, pocketing the excess cash, and another two were drinking more than they were serving. It was a miracle that they were still standing.
The Commodores’ ‘Three Times A Lady’ softened the mood. Those who’d already paired off were smooching on the dance floor, the guys surreptitiously checking between the gold, platinum and black credit cards in their wallets for change for the condom machine. The few remaining blokes were now approaching all single females, taking the view that if they asked enough women, eventually one would say yes.
I made for the door, relatively satisfied with my new place of employment – a couple of problems to iron out, but I was going to have a lot of fun.
I was just about to exit, when Mr Adonis filled the doorway.
‘No business tonight, love?’
Pardon? I was confused for a second, then realisation dawned. You could almost see the light bulb flash on above my head. He thought I was a hooker!
I looked up at him and smiled. ‘Not tonight. You see, I’m very, very expensive and I don’t think any of that lot could afford me.’
I held my head up and squeezed past him. That’s it, the dress was going in the bin.
I arrived promptly for my induction the next morning. Peter Flynn was the kind of guy that you woke up with after a party and immediately vowed to be teetotal for the rest of your life. About 5’8” tall, with brown, Brillo-pad hair, tiny darting eyes, and a sneering expression.
‘Miss Cooper, delighted to have you on board. I’ve heard great things about you from Jack McBurnie.’ He said the whole sentence without looking up or cracking a smile.
‘Glad to be here.’ I suddenly wasn’t sure that I was.
‘Now, down to business. “Asia” is open every night except Monday from 10 p.m. until 3 a.m.. You’ll have complete autonomy to do whatever you want, as long as you stay within budget. You are fully responsible for all aspects of the operation. If you miss target sales in three consecutive months, we will immediately terminate your contract.’
He really needed to work on his motivational speeches.
‘I expect you to start work tonight. You’re not entitled to vacation time until you’ve completed four months’ service. You may stay in the hotel for one month to allow you time to find suitable accommodation. Thereafter you will receive a 50 per cent discount on hotel facilities.’
Be still my heart. His compassion was overwhelming.
‘Any questions?’
‘Yes. I need the services of five bar staff from other areas of the hotel tomorrow night and I need to inform you that I’ll be recruiting new stewards.’
He didn’t even ask why. He picked up the phone and barked orders to some poor defenceless minion. He replaced the receiver.
‘It’s arranged. I’ll meet you at the club at 8 p.m. tonight to introduce you to the staff and then you’ll take over from there. Good luck, Miss Cooper.’
He handed me a folder of financial records and I was dismissed with a wave of the hand.
I spent the afternoon shopping like a woman possessed. I prayed that they didn’t terminate me after three months, as I’d just spent six months’ salary on new clothes. I was having an out-of-body experience. My brain was carefully calculating the costs and advising caution whilst my body was careering around stores with my credit cards.
That night, I took hours getting ready. My hair was styled to within an inch of its life, I donned more fake tan than a bodybuilder and I took ages applying about forty-seven make-up products in the hope of looking like a natural beauty.
I pondered what to wear before deciding
