Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(4)
I walked through the back door and into Ben’s office. He glanced up from his desk, then put down his cell phone as he stood. “About time you got here. Was just calling you.”
“Sorry, man. Got waylaid.” Or laid. Repeatedly.
“Don’t sweat it. You’re here. Everyone is except your dad. He said to start without him.”
My dad was a mostly silent partner with Loading Zone. We invited him to the quarterly meetings, which he attended, silent but interested.
Ben paused as a look of understanding washed over his face. “That’s right. Last night was your date with Hannah. How’d it go?”
With a deep breath, I gave a nod and a happy-as-f*ck look that said it all. Because words never could.
He grinned and clapped me on the shoulder. “Awesome, man. Hannah is gold.”
“Yeah, she is.” Made a guy feel invincible with the love of a woman like Hannah. I stowed my keys, phone, and electronic tablet in his bottom drawer. “Cool if I steal your office after the meeting for an hour? I’m behind on emails for Invitation Only events.”
He grabbed a stack of envelopes and a single sheet of paper from his desk before we left his office. “Sure. I’m gone as soon as we’re done.”
We headed out to the main floor where everyone had gathered for our fourth quarterly meeting and the first annual report of our fledgling company. Loading Zone had twenty-three employees, from the bartenders to the waitresses, the security team to the barbacks. Even our DJ, Darren, was here. Every face popped up, full of anticipation, as Ben and I walked in from the back. I exhaled slowly, glad to be able to focus on business.
I leaned back against the bar. “As you all know, we decided to do something different with Loading Zone. We undercut the competition and acquired the best staff by overcompensating you. How do you feel about that?”
“I think I love you, man.” Mark, our floor manager and head of security had a dead-serious tone. No one laughed. They all nodded, expressions fierce.
Ben stepped forward right as my dad walked in the front door. “When Cade first suggested sharing the profits with every employee, I have to admit, I thought it was a great idea to incentivize but wasn’t sure how it would work in reality. I’m happy to say, we’ve blown our one-year revenue projections through the roof.”
The room exploded into whistles and shouts.
“Most of you have been with us since the beginning. All of you have worked hard to make Loading Zone an amazing place. I hope you understand how much you all mean to us in being a part of our team. A family, really.”
I nodded toward the envelopes Ben held. “We wanted to show our appreciation for all you’ve done. Each of you has an extra bonus in there, beyond your profit-sharing percentage.”
Hushed whispers and gasps spread across the floor.
“That’s not all. You know how important giving back to the community is to us. Your support at our occasional softball games has been incredible in helping us raise money for charity, but what we haven’t shared until now is that a percentage of every net dollar earned at Loading Zone is also donated.”
I glanced at Ben. He nodded in support before I turned back to the group. “What do you say to our hosting a charity event for Loading Zone’s one-year anniversary at the end of the month?”
Jillian, one of our lead waitresses, stood from the chair she’d been sitting in. “You mean donate our time for the night?”
I tilted my head toward her. “Only if you want to.” Scanning their faces, I saw determination and pride in their expressions. “Each of you can decide. Loading Zone will be donating all the liquor and every penny of profits for the one night. We’d love for you to be a part of it, but only if you can swing it. We totally understand if you can’t.”
One by one they all stood beside Jillian, forming a tightknit group.
Mark spoke for them. “We’ve all made more money in the profits we share here than at any other job we’ve had. A lot of us have been trying to figure out a way to thank you. This is it.”
Without hesitation, they all nodded.
“We’re in.” Darren crossed his arms.
Jillian took a step forward and gave a hard nod. “I’ll even donate all my tips that night too. I’ll work my ass off.”
I smiled at her. “You always do. All of you do. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, for being dedicated to Loading Zone as something more than just a job you punch in at.”
From across the room, my dad swept his gaze over the animated group before it landed on me. He stared hard at me with immense pride. I gave him a slight nod. Were it not for him, I wouldn’t have had such a passion for business at a young age, when even the wildest ideas seemed possible.
Ben waved his fistful of envelopes at our group. “Time for the fun part.”
He handed me the stack. I called out the names, and as each person came forward, they shook my hand in appreciation. Then Ben read off the sheet of paper he’d brought, rattling off random information about costs and profit. Not that he needed to.
This wasn’t a shareholders’ meeting. The employees didn’t own a slice of the company. We shared the profits with them as inducement to performance. And as Jillian had so eloquently phrased it, they worked their asses off in return. Because when each customer was happy, they showed it with their wallets, which fattened ours, and enabled us to give liberally to those in need.