mind?”
“I do, actually. I’m thinking of a St Andrews cross incorporating nipple clamps. Would you fancy that, do you think? Your hands tied behind you, and you could be suspended by your nipples with just your toes on the floor?” He lifts one eyebrow, his smile distinctly lascivious.
I fold my arms protectively across my breasts, and his grin broadens. “Thought so. You’ll love it. You have such sensitive nipples, Freya, I’m just surprised I didn’t think of suspending you by them before. Anyway, I’m thinking of importing one and you definitely get to be first to try my new toy, my sweet.”
Not sure if he’s serious or not, I opt to bring him back to the issue at hand, namely how he can judge the quality of the club without seeing it first. Surely there’s only so much to learn from studying the books.
“Perspicacious as ever, little Freya. And you’re right of course. But it doesn’t matter what the club’s like now. After I complete the purchase I’ll run it according to my standards. My rules. I’ll change what I don’t like. If the existing staff are accustomed to running a tight ship, then fine, we’ll all get along. If not, we clear out and re-hire. The practicalities are pretty straightforward. I’ll send Frank in to run the dungeon for the first month or so, and then he’ll report to me on the general state of things. In particular he’ll tell me which staff to keep. If the current manager is a keeper then he or she can oversee any other changes that might be needed. If not, Ange will be the interim manager until I appoint a permanent replacement. She’ll need a deputy too, probably someone to train up who can then take over, and I’ve someone in mind for that.”
“It sounds like you’ve done this before.”
“Yup, once or twice.”
“But, you only own two, don’t you? This one would make three.”
“I’ve owned six clubs altogether, over the years. I sell on those that don’t make enough profit. So yes, currently I have two.”
Our conversation is interrupted as a rather dapper, middle-aged man comes bustling across the reception area, hand outstretched.
“Nick, my boy. How nice to see you. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since Archie’s funeral. And how’s your lovely mother? “
My boy? Archie? Mother?
Nick turns to face the newcomer, and accepts the hearty handshake that soon develops into a warm man-hug. Is this how solicitors usually greet their clients in Manchester? I must remember to mention it to Max—he’ll know.
“Uncle Charles. Good to see you too. I’m fine, very well. And so’s mum. She’s still living in Seattle so I don’t see much of her. And can I introduce Freya Stone, my—”
I’d have loved to hear how he was intending to describe me so I’m mildly disappointed that he doesn’t get the chance to complete the introduction before ‘Uncle Charles’ is seizing my hand too and pumping it warmly.
“Delighted to meet you, my dear. Delighted. It’s about time our Nick had some decent female company. But— What’s happened to you? You’ve hurt yourself. Do you need to sit down?”
“Freya fell off a chair and broke her wrist at the weekend.”
Nick fills in the blanks, and if Uncle Charles thinks it odd that I don’t answer for myself he doesn’t comment on it. Come to think of it, he hardly takes the time to draw breath at all before he’s rushing on.
“Come through, come through. I’ve got everything ready for you. Our transactional team have drafted all the contracts and we just need some signatures from you, and then we can get your bank to transfer the cash into our client account. Then we can complete. The other side’s solicitor is standing by for a call from me, as soon as the funds clear. Then you’ve got yourself a club.”
He bustles off back towards the open lift doors, and we follow in his wake. Five minutes later we’re installed in a plush conference room on the third floor, a tray of fresh
“I do, actually. I’m thinking of a St Andrews cross incorporating nipple clamps. Would you fancy that, do you think? Your hands tied behind you, and you could be suspended by your nipples with just your toes on the floor?” He lifts one eyebrow, his smile distinctly lascivious.
I fold my arms protectively across my breasts, and his grin broadens. “Thought so. You’ll love it. You have such sensitive nipples, Freya, I’m just surprised I didn’t think of suspending you by them before. Anyway, I’m thinking of importing one and you definitely get to be first to try my new toy, my sweet.”
Not sure if he’s serious or not, I opt to bring him back to the issue at hand, namely how he can judge the quality of the club without seeing it first. Surely there’s only so much to learn from studying the books.
“Perspicacious as ever, little Freya. And you’re right of course. But it doesn’t matter what the club’s like now. After I complete the purchase I’ll run it according to my standards. My rules. I’ll change what I don’t like. If the existing staff are accustomed to running a tight ship, then fine, we’ll all get along. If not, we clear out and re-hire. The practicalities are pretty straightforward. I’ll send Frank in to run the dungeon for the first month or so, and then he’ll report to me on the general state of things. In particular he’ll tell me which staff to keep. If the current manager is a keeper then he or she can oversee any other changes that might be needed. If not, Ange will be the interim manager until I appoint a permanent replacement. She’ll need a deputy too, probably someone to train up who can then take over, and I’ve someone in mind for that.”
“It sounds like you’ve done this before.”
“Yup, once or twice.”
“But, you only own two, don’t you? This one would make three.”
“I’ve owned six clubs altogether, over the years. I sell on those that don’t make enough profit. So yes, currently I have two.”
Our conversation is interrupted as a rather dapper, middle-aged man comes bustling across the reception area, hand outstretched.
“Nick, my boy. How nice to see you. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since Archie’s funeral. And how’s your lovely mother? “
My boy? Archie? Mother?
Nick turns to face the newcomer, and accepts the hearty handshake that soon develops into a warm man-hug. Is this how solicitors usually greet their clients in Manchester? I must remember to mention it to Max—he’ll know.
“Uncle Charles. Good to see you too. I’m fine, very well. And so’s mum. She’s still living in Seattle so I don’t see much of her. And can I introduce Freya Stone, my—”
I’d have loved to hear how he was intending to describe me so I’m mildly disappointed that he doesn’t get the chance to complete the introduction before ‘Uncle Charles’ is seizing my hand too and pumping it warmly.
“Delighted to meet you, my dear. Delighted. It’s about time our Nick had some decent female company. But— What’s happened to you? You’ve hurt yourself. Do you need to sit down?”
“Freya fell off a chair and broke her wrist at the weekend.”
Nick fills in the blanks, and if Uncle Charles thinks it odd that I don’t answer for myself he doesn’t comment on it. Come to think of it, he hardly takes the time to draw breath at all before he’s rushing on.
“Come through, come through. I’ve got everything ready for you. Our transactional team have drafted all the contracts and we just need some signatures from you, and then we can get your bank to transfer the cash into our client account. Then we can complete. The other side’s solicitor is standing by for a call from me, as soon as the funds clear. Then you’ve got yourself a club.”
He bustles off back towards the open lift doors, and we follow in his wake. Five minutes later we’re installed in a plush conference room on the third floor, a tray of fresh
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