He looked around the club. “When we switched industries, someone suggested opening a male dancer club. The boss made a choice, went to Las Vegas for research, and then opened Beast House.”

Martin thought to himself, no wonder business is bad—the club originated from such an unreliable idea.

He gazed at the empty venue, pondering carefully.

When things quieted down again, Martin asked, “The club isn’t doing well. Where’s the person who made the suggestion?”

Bruce pointed at the circular stage. “The boss punished Hart by making him dance up there until things improve.”

Chapter 14: No Benefit, No Effort

In the office on the second floor of Beast House, Vincent’s cowboy hat was pulled low, casting a large shadow over his face, with his prominent hooked nose looking as if it could peck into one’s soul.

Nightclub PR Michael felt inexplicably uneasy and quickly tried to cover it up with words: “Beast House has been open for less than a month. We need time to build up customers, reputation, and word of mouth.”

He had promoted bars aimed at male customers before, but this was his first time with a female-focused venue, so he wasn’t taking the blame. “You’re being too impatient. Running a business takes time.”

Vincent spoke calmly: “Twenty-five days ago, when you took your commission, that’s not what you said.”

Thinking of the $10,000 commission, Michael perked up. “Give me another month. It’s not that I’m not working hard, it’s the environment.”

There was no way he could return the money—he didn’t have that much left. “You know those damn laws in Georgia. We can’t advertise directly in the media or malls, so we can only promote privately. Now the conservative Methodist Association is stirring up trouble everywhere, and the media is fanning the flames.”

Vincent didn’t even lift his eyelids. “What about the big celebrities you promised would come to the club?”

They couldn’t advertise directly, but side news about celebrities appearing at the club was fine.

Michael said, “I’m still working on it.”

Vincent raised his head slightly, his hooked nose even sharper. “If you can’t get Julia Roberts, at least get Holly Hunter—both are Georgia’s female stars.”

Michael was dumbfounded. Those are both Oscar-winning actresses!

Vincent spoke slowly: “You wanted a $10,000 fee, and I gave it to you. Do you know why?”

Michael braced himself and said, “Because I’m worth it.”

Vincent raised one finger. “First, I wanted to use money to motivate you.” He raised another. “Second, I’m confident I’ll get my money’s worth.”

Michael leaned forward, unconsciously pleading. “Just give me a little more time.”

Vincent picked up the phone and called the bar. “Bruce, spread the word—clear the place in fifteen minutes. No one is allowed to leave. We’re having an internal meeting.”

Michael couldn’t help but worry, sweat beading on his forehead. “You… what are you going to do?”

“Beast House is a legitimate business that abides by the law. We won’t do anything illegal.” Vincent stood up and walked out. “I’m gathering the staff to hear their opinions.”

Seeing he wasn’t about to be taken out, Michael relaxed and said, “You’d rather trust those idiots who can’t even read a newspaper than give a professional a little more time?”

Vincent walked straight out.

He wanted to trust professionals, but the professionals hadn’t brought in customers.

Michael hurried to catch up.

Fifteen minutes later, all Beast Club employees, including the male dancers, were standing near the stage.

Martin and Bruce stood on the far left, waiting for the boss to speak.

Vincent stepped onto the circular stage, swept his gaze over everyone, and said, “You all know about the club’s customer flow. Any ideas?”

The leader of the male dancers, Hart, was the first to speak. “Boss, should we go back to our old line of work?”

Vincent said, “Bruce, if Hart says that kind of crap again, use the most civilized method to throw him into the Atlantic.”

Hart glanced at Bruce, his lips trembling. “I’ll shut up.”

Michael, however, followed Hart’s gaze and looked again at Martin, calculating.

Vincent asked, “Anyone else?”

No one spoke for the moment.

Martin had some ideas, but the boss hadn’t mentioned any benefits.

If there’s no benefit, who the hell would bother to work hard? A wage earner should have a wage earner’s mindset.

“Very good, you really are my brothers—no reward, no work.” Vincent lifted his cowboy hat slightly. “Whoever can double Beast House’s steady customer flow will get double salary and a $10,000 bonus.”

Hearing the $10,000 bonus, Michael couldn’t help but jump out. “I have an idea.”

Everyone looked at Michael, who pointed at Martin. “As long as he cooperates, I can solve the problem.”

Martin was baffled.

Michael, afraid someone would snatch the bonus, said, “Why can’t the club attract a large crowd? Because we lack a star-level dancer!”

He pointed at Martin. “With his looks, plus professional choreography training, I can make him Atlanta’s superstar!”

Martin thought, what kind of grudge do you have against me, trying to get me killed? He immediately interrupted, “Boss, this guy is exaggerating. I admit I’m good-looking, but not to the extent he says. Besides, Hart and the others aren’t bad either.”