Chapter Two

Talon

I canceled the rest of the interviews, having completed our initial hiring with Rowan. He was well qualified as either a bartender or bar manager, based on his resume and his former employer's comments, but nothing reflected any experience at a venue like ours. But some of his comments definitely indicated a healthy curiosity. One very tempting to satisfy.

When I left him with HR, I found myself wanting to go back and make sure it was going okay, see if he had any more questions, be sure he didn't change his mind about wanting to work at Cuffed. If that did happen, I'd be in the unenviable position of not being able to contact him because using information provided for consideration for employment was not for personal use.

During the tour, I kept catching myself looking over at him, gauging his reactions. Bartenders were known for keeping their cool, and Rowan was no different, but they were also notoriously good at hiding their reactions. With everyone and their dysfunctional brother dumping their personal problems on the guy mixing their martini, it took a certain personality not to absorb all the angst. Finally realizing how ridiculous it was for me to hang around outside HR, I dragged myself away. There was plenty for me to do as we got close to opening. Our contractor was the best, but I wanted flawless—not something probably humanly possible.

Every detail had been gone over multiple times. Unlike common opinion, black was not black. There were so many tones and hues and shades, and our goal had been to use them to create a unique design, a goal I believed we'd reached with success. I paced through the main dungeon area, where the stations were installed and ready to go.

The spider, spanking benches, cages, and other dungeon furnishings stood apart from one another with plenty of walking space in between and as much room as any activity required. Whips, for example, not only needed a large space to avoid hitting passersby but so that the wielder could avoid harming their play partner because they couldn't use their arm properly. Overhead lights illuminated each station with lots of settings the lighting director could control from his space near the DJ booth. A stage for live music and small dance floor stood at the other end of the room from the dungeon area.

It was a huge room, and when we'd been planning the build, I'd wondered if we could even fill all that space, but now that everything was installed, I almost wished we had a few hundred more square feet.

The main floor's high ceiling allowed for balcony seating and observing everything at the stations below. Charcoal-gray leather banquette seating lined the walls, and tables scattered about the floor, within viewing range of all the action but not within the actual "play area."

I moved from station to station, as I had done every day since they were in place, but this time something was different. At each, I imagined a certain omega submitting to my ministrations. Bound to the spanking bench with his round butt cheeks exposed for a lusty spanking. For example. One of my favorite stations was fire play, and a dom had to have a great deal of experience to use that in our club. Everything could be dangerous, but fire required care and technique. A skill I'd acquired a decade before and enjoyed.

"Hey, Talon?" One of my partners in this enterprise dropped a hand on my shoulder. "Hello?"

I jumped then laughed. "Alex, you startled me. Is something wrong?"

"No, just wondering how long you're going to stare at the fire play table with that bemused expression. Can we count on a demonstration of your talent soon?"

"I imagine. Not right away but eventually." Maybe if a certain omega would like to try it out. He'd been so shy, but everything about him drew me. "How are things in the kitchens? All the supplies come in?"

"Most." He ran a finger over the smooth leather of a spanking bench. "Soft on the submissive's skin."

"Yes. But what do you mean ‘most'?"

"Oh, one box went missing." He snorted. "And of course it was high-end seafood for the special opening-night apps."

"And?"

"And they are replacing it. Immediately. They weren't all that helpful at first, but when I offered to return everything they did deliver, they saw the light."

"Very good." Alex was dominant in all things, even if the supplier might not realize the tools he employed to achieve his aims. "And the staff?"

"Filled the last bartender position today. The guy is in with HR dealing with the paperwork, and there we go!"

We walked the floor together, talking about all the details one more time. We'd been working on this project for years, if you included the original planning stages, and it was hard to believe we were finally about to open the doors. Membership applications had been coming in for a while, and the staff member in charge of that had been full-time and then some. We were charging a steep membership fee, but just having the money did not get anyone through the doors. Research into their past, references, previous club associations… If they passed all of that, there was an interview with two of the owners to get past.

Time consuming, sure, but we believed it worth the effort.

Alex left me to return to the kitchen and see if the seafood had arrived. He wanted to be sure that the quality matched the price. We were all detail-oriented, no matter what other skills we had. It was why we were a good team, and I hoped would have the club we'd dreamed of. Doms, sure. But also dreamers.