Open Doors (Suncoast Society #27)(20)

The edges seemed to soften on her glare, just a little.

Maybe a slight thaw to the frost?

“I know it’s a lot of money,” he continued, “but we did this the right way. We didn’t half-ass it and leave ourselves exposed. Seriously, Kaden didn’t charge me anything but fees, not even for his time. Another donation he made to the club. Normally he’d charge fifteen grand—”

“Fifteen grand? Are you shitting me?”

Okay, they were heading in the wrong direction. “The point is, we’re good. We’re golden. From insurance, to liability, to asset protection. We are secure and protected. And Kel is protected.”

She stared at him for a long, long time. He’d actually started holding his breath as he waited, which he only realized when he had to breathe, or pass out.

“You f*cking owe me,” she finally said.

“I know.”

“You owe me a lot.”

“I know.”

She sighed and tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling for a minute. “I am not cleaning f*cking bathrooms. You get to do that, Mister Master.” She leveled her gaze at him. “Understood?”

He nodded. “Totally. Bathroom grunt. Got it.”

She poked him in the chest. “What other surprises have you not told me about yet? Because, seriously, you drop another one like this on me? I’m divorcing your ass.”

“This was it. I swear.” It would have been better had he not screwed up. His plan had been to do a loan to the company and pay Kaden out of that in a couple of installments, so it didn’t appear to Marcia’s eagle eyes like such a large hit all at once to the budget.

Then again, she likely would have seen right through his ruse when she took over the bookkeeping for the club. He hadn’t anticipated she’d get quite this involved in the back-end of things.

In a way, it was good that she was. Knowing his tenacious wife, it would pretty much insure the club’s success.

She stared him down for several long, uncomfortable minutes during which he was way too smart to interrupt by talking. Finally, she blew out another long breath and when she spoke, her tone had gentled.

“I’m serious. I don’t want this to f*ck up our marriage or our business or our lives.”

“It won’t. I won’t let it.”

As she pulled herself out of the chair, he stood. When he opened his arms to her for a hug, she finally stepped into his embrace.

“Don’t let me down, mister,” she mumbled against his chest.

He kissed the top of her head. “Baby, I won’t. I swear. You’re the most important thing to me, in my life.”

She looked up at him. “I’d better be.” But her smile told him he was forgiven.

Mostly.

Because then she poked him, hard, in the chest. “You’re taking me out for dinner, buddy. I shouldn’t have to cook. If we can blow eight grand on that damn club, you can spring for pizza.”

“Done.”

She let him kiss her before disengaging from his embrace. She grabbed the papers from his desk and shook them at him. “You were going to have these sent to the club, weren’t you?”

He wasn’t stupid enough to try to lie his way out of it. “Yeah.”

“Forgot, huh?”

He nodded.

She slowly shook her head at him before heading to the door. “Don’t you ever try that shit again, either, buddy. Or you’ll have one pissed off slave on your hands who won’t mind going all Toppy on your ass for once.”

She left, closing the door behind her.

Fortunately, not slamming it shut.

He rounded his desk and heavily sat.

That was close.

It didn’t take long before a smile creased his face. If Marcia had forgiven him that quickly and easily, it meant she wasn’t nearly as upset as she let on. Yes, she was upset. No doubt about that.

He also knew that she likely understood that, in the long run, they’d made the smart move by doing this, even though it cost them money up front. They would eventually get the money back from the club. It might take a while, but it would happen.

Because by doing things this way, it meant they could really go forward with it without fear and make it a success.





Chapter Ten


With all the paperwork now safely filed, and with all the legal Is dotted and Ts crossed, Derrick and Marcia set out to plan the second party. Yes, a week later than they’d intended to hold it, but that was all right.

This party would be even better. Larger. Because now they could do things properly.

Marcia bought an inexpensive laptop for the club and, with Julie’s help, created an Excel spreadsheet to go with the membership liability forms Kaden and Ed had come up with. Everyone would get a membership number so they wouldn’t have to fill out forms every time they came. Just once a year. For tonight, she was dropping them facedown into a banker’s box to be three-hole-punched and filed in binders later.

Note to self, pre-punch the forms.

And buy a printer that makes cheap copies.

At this rate, they’d have the office fully equipped before it was even built.

She also created a daily sales spreadsheet to help her with the bookkeeping later on.

And she’d purchased four long folding tables and set them up where the path through the screens emptied. People could stand there and fill out the forms at the tables before making it to her at the computer. Leah would run the USDOJ sex offender search before taking their money or swiping their credit card, while Marcia entered their information into the computer.