Page 2 of Boss Daddy
Noah
Clamping my hand around the wire strippers, I pull the plastic coating off the speaker wires and wind them together. This was supposed to be done three days ago, but good workers are hard to come by. I find myself being boss, repairman, barman—you name it, I’m the guy—more often than not. Next thing I know, I’ll be up on the bloody bar dancing myself. That’d be a sight.
I chuckle to myself as I’m threading the wires into the wall before I hook the speaker in place. Big ex-military me, clicking my heels together and wiggling my ass.
“What’s so funny up there, boss daddy?” Elijah, my bar manager, says as he places his hands on the legs of the ladder I’m standing on.
Pasting an unimpressed glare on my face, I stare down at him. “Boss on its own is just fine. I ain’t your daddy, son.”
His eyes light up as I realize what I just said. “But you just called me son. And I would really love it if you’d be my daddy.”
I scoff out a laugh and climb back down to the floor, dusting my hands off on my jeans. “Doesn’t that count as sexual harassment or something? Asking your boss to be your daddy?”
Elijah purses his lips and juts out one hip as he considers this. “I think it doesn’t count if the employee does it to the boss. It only counts if it’s the other way around. Plus, I think you’d have to feel intimidated. And since you’re twice the size of me, big daddy, I don’t think you’re intimidated at all.”
I shake my head. “You’re incorrigible, kid. How’s everything for tonight?”
“Well,” he starts. “Everything is fine except… we’re a girl short.” He says the last part really fast, his hand half covering his mouth as he speaks.
“A girl short? Fuck. Who is it this time? Stacey? Natasha?”
“Tonya”
“Are you for real? That’s the third time in a week.” I shake my head, hands on my hips. I don’t enjoy having to come down hard on my employees, but in this case, it’s affecting my business. I need a full staff to run efficiently. “Next time she’s in here, tell her to come see me. She’d better have a good reason if she wants to keep working here.”
“Yes, sir.” Elijah salutes, walking along behind me as I close up the ladder and carry it into the storage room. “I was kind of hoping that I could call one of the new girls as a fill-in.”
“Are any of them trained?” I take quick, long strides to my office and he runs to keep up.
“Trained in dancing, not so much in bar work. But I’m sure I can teach them to pull a beer in no time.”
“What the hell are you doing hiring girls who can’t pull a fucking beer? This is a bar.”
“With dancers. I have to hire them based on their moves, or what’s the point in them being here?”
“To serve food and drink. You know, the stuff that makes me money. That’s more important than how well they dance.”
Elijah places his hands on his hips and presses his lips into a tight line. “Try telling your clientele that. The girls are why they come.”
I stand in the doorway of my office and let out a growl. “I didn’t open this place so I could be a fucking drink slinger every night of the damn week, but fine, I’ll man the goddamn bar tonight.”
I slam my door, just as I hear him say, “Thank you, daddy.”
As pissed as I am, it makes me laugh. He knows I’m straight as an arrow, but he seems to get a kick out of this daddy gag he has going on. And he’s the best worker I have, so I let him get away with it. Still, the last thing I want is to be anyone’s ‘daddy.’ I’ve got three grown kids of my own, and I sure as hell don’t need anymore, hell, I haven’t even looked at a woman for...fuck, I forget how long. Once my wife passed, I left the army life behind me and focused on working and raising my kids. Now that they’re all off at college, I’m finally in a position to do what I’ve always wanted to do—open a bar with great music and even better food. All I need now is enough employees to run the damn place.
