To Protect or Provide

Savannah

~Do I have everything I need?~

One more time to be sure.

I cannot forget anything.

Projector? ~Check~.

Laser pointer? ~Check~.

Slides on profits? ~Check~.

Slides for equipment? ~Check~.

Slides for start-up costs and benefits? ~Check~.

Video and signature proof of clientele? ~Check~.

Environmental studies? ~Check~.

Proof of laws and zoning rules? ~Check~.

Shipment and timeline for opening night?

~Check.~

~Okay.~

~Breathe. You totally got this.~

Luci is going to shit a brick when he sees this.

I take a look at my appearance to double check I look the whole part of this business meeting like I should.

I am straight up killing it in this pantsuit.

My hair flat ironed and braided back in a chic, business-classic updo.

My makeup soft but fashionable.

The black pumps are technically a little on the risqué scale but so is my plan.

While I know I don’t give a fuck, I wish my gut would get on the same page.

I look the part of a boss-ass goddess, but I wouldn’t mind a splash of something sexier.

I unbutton my black blazer and untuck the stuffy yellow shirt I have tried on and slip on my sheer white one instead.

Adding a pearl necklace and matching earrings, I switch my watch for something a little less flashy.

Adding to my briefcase my laptop, cover bag and my charger just in case.

“You have everything. Stop freaking out. You’re going to kill it.” Percy steps in the doorway to help calm my frazzled nerves.

My cousin has been my right hand for this project. Sneaking in my questions from Uncle Jonah since I haven’t told him I’m becoming a Luna.

I was thinking about just showing up with my moon tattoo and be all “Heyyyyy,” but I know I should own up to it before that.

“Yeah, you’re right. I know.”

“You look boss as hell, Tigger.” He points at my feet and finger guns up to my head.

A three second smile is shared between the two of us before it’s kicked out and my paranoid anxiety pulls the lever on the train horn to announce its arrival.

“It’s time to go. What if they hate it and I don’t pass? Should I have gone the safer route and done the—”

Percy puts his hands up in the time-out sign.

“Hold it. When has the ~safe route~ ever been the one for you?”

A simple and understanding smile covers my nude lipstick.

“That’s fair.” I nod and stop the wind up of the hand that begs to be shoved into my pinned and polished hairline.

“This is going to be fine. Every time you would go out on stage for the first time in a while you would get jittery like this, remember?” Waiting for a second nod before he continues, I give it to him.

“But when the song started and you fell back into your element, we couldn’t pull you off the stage. Nineteen thousand encores later and you never lost.”

A bittersweet smile now paints over the lipstick I have applied to stop the worrying of my bottom lip.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I strap the blazer back on and re-tuck my shirt.

Taking the strap of my bag and handcuffing it to my sweaty palms, I give a shaky smile before I can come up with any more of a reason why this might not work.

I know I did my homework.

I know this is a great idea, and I have made a solid plan.

I took everything into account and made sure to cover all of my bases.

I have answers to every question they will throw out at me.

I know it.

It’s the broken parts of my brain that are tainted and fucking with me.

“Sometimes Van, you kill me.”

Percy walks with me out of my bedroom and down the stairs. Standing on the porch, I ask him why.

“You can fight in a legitimate cage fight, fists flying and no-holds-back types.

“Jump off waterfalls without batting an eye, talk shit to meaty battle-trained, greased-up bikers with full sassy pants attitude, beat the snot out of homophobes and do forty-eight hours of a sex-athon with no doubt and no worry.

“But when it’s something like a meeting, or asking the guy you’ve been playing cat and mouse with for the last four months, that’s what tests you.”

His smirk is playful and amusing. His sandy blond hair ruffles with the wind palming through it.

“That’s the easy stuff. It’s just a jump, a life lesson, solid punch in the right place at the right time, and well, I like orgasms so that’s real easy. It’s the stuff left up to fate. To other people that’s…shitty.”

~That can’t be controlled.~

“I love you, Tigger. If they somehow don’t see the genius in you then we will make our biker gang. We already got one bike.”

I laugh and climb on my rainbow tie-dyed dirt bike.

“Good, we got our plan B.”

I carefully put my helmet on and zip up my jacket so I can keep the wrinkles from sticking to me.

Percy wishes me good luck and I drive off.

Down the streets and through traffic, a little too quickly, I find myself in biker country and park in front of the bar. Taking my jacket off and turning it inside out, I take a short and sharp breath.

~My nerves are shot to shit but I got this.~

I look across biker country to the empty space at the end of the street.

~Soon, you will be all mine.~

My head held high, my shoulders squared off, my metaphorical crown sturdy in place with my horns poking through to keep it from slipping.

Lucien wants me to fail.

He will not be getting his wish.

~Here we go.~

My briefcase in hand, I make graceful and elegant strides into the bar. My heels hit in a rhythmic manner to show my boss-ass goddess side.

I have watched ~The Devil Wears Prada~ every night this week to build up my knowledge on the boss ladies in the world.

I watched endless hours of ~Shark Tank~ and had Percy and Reid test me in a debate-team-style manner.

I am ready.

My suit hitting me in all the right spots, I look tall, domineering, yet approachable and dripping with sex appeal to pacify these sexist pigs in here.

With Dane showing me back, he tells me how great I’m going to do and he is looking forward to what I’ll bring, even though he isn’t old enough to vote, only sit in on the meeting.

I hand him my projector bag and let him set it up for me.

Taking me down the hallway, he shows me to church.

The older boys hang out in front of the door. Darrion is the first to see me.

Looking far too impressed before he slaps the shoulder of Damon, who catches the eye of Daxon as all three turn to face me.

I smile at the Henley boys with their jaws dropped and mouths wide open at the bad-ass bitch in front of them.

“Afternoon, boys. When you’re ready to pick your jaws off the floor, I’d like to begin.”

Damon is the first one to shake out of his trance-like stare to come to my side and melt his mouth to mine.

“You look so fucking sexy, Savannah,” he growls against my lips.

“Well, I did try to tone it down a touch or two. But I just ooze it and there’s only so much that can be done.” I fake a sigh that sounds exhausting at the thought of it.

I didn’t try.

I just didn’t do my all in sexing myself up.

Looking down at my chest, having the perfect amount of cleavage, Damon’s lips stiffen with a naughty smirk.

“A pearl necklace? Is that hint for something? All you gotta do is ask, baby.”

I roll my eyes at his cockiness and work my face into a loud stiff ~no~, before looking past him to Dr. Dickhead and Daxon with a, “Can you believe this guy?”

Using Damon as a block to their ogling eyes, I offer a silent ~Yes~ and a fast nod that makes him bite his lips and grip my ass.

“Angel. Please, I need to focus.”

Damon groans into my neck, sniffing me and humming in delight.

He is always smelling me.

I’m glad I smell good.

“Damn, darlin’.” Daxon makes a sizzling sound when he waves a hand down my body.

“I like it, Van. Suits…suit you.” Darrion isn’t as showy about his compliments all the time.

Not like Daxon.

“They’re ready for her.” Dane pokes out of the door with a wolf emblem on the front.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

Damon takes my hand, kissing the inside of my wrist before walking in with me.

The room is huge.

It looks a lot like a courtroom but with no plaintiff box.

The table that houses the pack of wolves I find myself at the mercy of is U shaped like the bar. A thick wooden table that has deep ornate carvings on the inner side.

A picture of wolves running through a crowded city, that works its way into shifting the wolf to a man on a motorcycle.

The men that sit at the table all match with their leather vests and angry or blank faces.

My eyes whip around the room and over every face. I find Grave closer to Lucien and Lawrence, on the other side of a man that looks like the two brothers.

Probably another Henley.

Who could have guessed.

“Hello, I am Savannah Madis. It’s nice to meet all of you. I thank you for taking your time to hear my presentation.”

I meet all of their eyes once more.

“Let’s get this going, what did you come up with, girl?” Lucien rushes me.

~Don’t let it get under your skin.~

“Something Luna-worthy,” I toss back as I take out my laser pointer and my paperwork.

“Lights, please.” Dane hits the light switch.

I drop my first slide in and clear my throat.

“For my presentation, I was asked to choose between providing or protecting not only for the club in which I would be a part of, a new family, but for my Angel. I had three days, and that wasn’t enough.”

Lucien smiled wickedly.

“Then what’s all this?” He gestures to the wall I have the projector displayed on.

“I will be taking questions after, thank you, sir. Now, as I was saying. Three days wasn’t enough time to do my best work, but I’m proud of what I have come up with. Protect or provide. I couldn’t pick so I chose both.”

Lucien does this snarky little throttle that makes me want to dagger him, but I refrain and click the first slide.

“It’s my understanding that Lunas are modeled after werewolf mythology. Mates, pack leaders, so forth. How can you expect someone that loves you to only provide for their family, or only protect?

“It’s not possible. Not for me at least. Family means far too much to me to stand on the sidelines when I could and will do both. That’s why I thought of this.”

I clicked throughout my speech, showing pictures of werewolves—professor Remus Lupin was of course in the slide which made me grin. But no one else saw it.

I showed pictures of some of the workers in biker country helping out where that wasn’t their specific job.

One of a Luna lawyer who was handing work tools to her guy at the mechanic garage, one of a boxer biker and his Luna wrapping his knuckles, one of a bartender helping out in the tattoo parlor, and one of Lawrence holding bags of groceries for his Luna, who was showing him a picture on a magazine that he looked interested in.

My last slide is one of Cher and Christina Aguilera in the ~Burlesque~ movie from a few years ago.

Lucien was the first to crack up with a fake laugh and point to the screen.

“A whore show? Of course that’s what you thought of.” The rest of the men didn’t say or do anything.

“Whore show? First of all, it’s burlesque. Which, I don’t know if you know, but sex sells. Hints the providing part. This show, what it will be, is a money maker.”

I click the slide without looking away or acknowledging his snide comment.

The next slide is of sex toys.

“The fuck is this?” Lucien intrudes on my presentation yet again.

“You do realize I’m going to explain every slide, you don’t need to waste your breath asking things I will already tell you,” I snap back, growing tired of this asshole.

“Those are sex toys. Now, hear me out. I get it’s racy and blah blah, but…” I click the next slide and show the logo to Pornhub, adding to a red dot that shows the ~live on air~ sign.

“These three things, the burlesque show, the sex toys and the live streaming, all go together. For one money-making package.”

I grab the stack of papers and walk the length of the table to hand each one a copy of the packets I’ve made.

I hand Damon, Daxon, Darrion one and head back to the front of the room.

“You want to put on live sex shows?” Grave asks first in wild disbelief.

“No and yes, also toy rental Tuesdays, and burlesque Fridays,” I answer calm and steady. I was sure they would see it as sketchy at first.

“Toy rentals?” Daxon asks.

“Prostitution is illegal.” Lawrence now speaks up for the first time.

“Daxon, I will answer your question momentarily. Lawrence, thank you for your not-a-question. Yes, prostitution is illegal, that’s not what I have planned. I take it you are referring to the rentals and live shows?”

He flips the paper back, and clicks his tongue that I take as a ~Yes~.

Others start to speak up, some questions, a lot of comments about the shows, toys, my bloodline, my father, my mother…when I hear one closer to me say something about the crash, rattling my brains up, I lose it.

A loud slap to the table with a roar of: “SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

The room went deathly still.

“My parents, the car wreck, is OFF the table for discussion. Show some fucking respect, whether you liked or even knew my parents, is not relevant to what is being discussed.

“Raise your goddamn hand, look at your booklet or ask one at a time so your complaints, comments or questions can all be addressed.”

I walk to the one who mentioned the crash, and the effect it had on my mind.

Looking at him dead in the eye, I repress the urge to jump over the table and beat him to a pulp.

“I heard you. I’m choosing to ignore the comment and complete my thoroughly impressive presentation. If you would like to discuss anything pertaining to the disgusting, punk-ass comment, I can meet you outside and handle it after I’m finished here.”

His jaw sets, his eyes narrow, anger catches at the apples of his round cheeks. The buzzcut shows off the muscles in his head tensing and veins popping up.

“Now, as I was saying. Daxon.”

I turn around slowly, letting my own stare linger on his before I meet the cheeky duck across the room.

“Toy rentals. As your Uncle Lawrence has pointed out, prostitution is in fact illegal. If you flip to page sixteen in the booklet, you will see that the laws surrounding this are loosened and prime for the picking.

“The legislation is just not there to cover the whole works. The men and women who will come to the store will be able to rent a promising sex toy, we will have an ample array of top-notch products that they can rent for hour increments to test out the product before buying.

“The rentals come with a model of their choosing, male or female, and in any kinky situation that they would use it in. No fetish left behind, ladies and gentlemen, with the exception of the three rules of course.

“No touching of the models will be allowed by the renter or other guests. The renter will tell the model what they would like done and watch only, to see if that’s the toy they would like to purchase at the end of the night.”

Daxon’s face lights up like a child on Christmas morning.

“The whores will—”

I stop Lawrence.

“Not whores. Models. The word should be retired anyways. It was only made to cast shame on women who acted like men in the first damn place.”

“What’s the three rules?” Grave pipes up.

“The three rules for any sexuality. One, consent, anything other than a ‘yes’ is a ‘no,’ and I doubt I need to explain why rape is never okay.

“Two, no children. Ever. Three, no animals. You can fuck like one, dress like one while fucking like one, but never ever fuck an animal. No to bestiality, yes to furries.

“Anything else is up to you and what you would allow to be done to your body or do to someone else’s. Your normal isn’t my normal and that’s okay.

“Luna’s Idol will be a safe-haven for all fetishes to come and explore their sexuality in a friendly, non-judgmental environment.”

“The sex show? Do you actually think people off the street will just fuck on stage?”

Darrion, for the first time, speaks.

“I don’t think. I know.”

I remove my slide and put on my video and signature proof, a few volunteers already marked down and scheduled for after opening night.

“If you please, this here is a survey I issued to the public in the last two days. I asked if they would be interested in coming to such a show, to rental nights, to buying sex toys proven to actually do the job and not let them down. To a fun night at a burlesque show, and this is the feedback I got.”

I hit play. The video was taken without their knowledge but I didn’t have time to get permission.

I played over a hundred shots of footage taken from jail inmates to people walking down the street.

All agreeing to come, or asking about more information, or straight up agreeing.

Now, I talked to the whole damn town, but people view sex as a private thing.

Something they couldn’t talk to a stranger about even though it’s normal and natural.

“I have six couples, and five floaters who are ready to take to the stage right now. Granted, those numbers will increase when we open and word gets around, but for now.”

Darrion sifts through the booklet.

I turn to look at the other members.

“Any other questions before I move on to the details of expenses and building?”

The other members are busy engrossed within the booklet I put together for them to read. All the information I talked about and everything on my slides is in the booklet.

“The start-up cost is eighty-thousand dollars? Are you joking?” The man with Lucien and Lawrence speaks.

“No, sorry I’m not. We could cut costs by cutting our image, but I’m not willing to do this for anything less than perfection. Luna’s Idol will be the best that ever was and will be. If you flip to the next page, you will see the projections on profits based on the three clubs similar to ours.”

The club flips the page and reads.

Lucien looks up from the heavy booklet to sneer at me.

“With what money, girl? You want the club to invest in this pipe dream? Where is the protection? Where is return to not break us?”

“If I may, the last page.”

Luci doesn’t look so I go ahead and tell them.

“The protection comes from the people who come to the club. With the high-end style we will be going for, we will attract higher members of society. A little blackmail can go a long way.

“What’s a secret between friends? I don’t know about what kind of enemies you may have besides the basic law enforcement, but we will be able to pull in a diverse crowd from all walks of life.”

I take a pause before I continue.

“To answer your question about the start-up costs, I will be the investor.”

All the bikers in the room turn to me in a snap of their necks.

“Excuse me?” Lucien asks.

“I will be the one bankrolling this project. I have already gone to the building and looked at it, I took pictures and came up with a blueprint I like best.

“I didn’t have a lot of time to dive as deeply as I wanted to get a solid plan on the budget for remodeling, but a soft estimate puts it at thirty-thousandish, with opening night, the work, the production cost, the advertisement, the products, the staff and having a cushion to fall on for the next year, when we start making the money back, that’s the eighty-thousand.

“I have a backup pile just in case we walk into something we couldn’t have expected. But all in all, the only thing I will need from you”—I point to Lucien then to the rest of the club—“is one, your approval to get started, a list of workers you feel safe in using for construction, and free rights to bring this to life.

“I know, you don’t like me. I’m not a fan of yours either, I know the idea of me, a Madis, bringing something like this to your kingdom is…yeah. But, this may be my idea, my work, but Luna’s Idol isn’t ~mine~. It’s ~ours~.

“The money goes to the club, one I will be a part of as a Luna. I don’t own it. I can run it, open it, advise and instruct.”

I turn off the projector and open the floor for any more questions before I walk out and they take a vote.

“How do you have this amount of money? Let alone the experience to be in charge of such a big project?” the man with Lucien and Lawrence that I don’t know asks.

“I am Savannah Madis. I can do anything I set my mind to,” I joke with a shrug of my shoulders before answering correctly.

“I have been performing since I was seven years old, I am an eleven-time champion of the south bars singing competition. I won cash prizes, I never spent. My parents saved it.

“Along with the shows I would put on all over the country, competitions I won, performances I was paid for. I also inherited what was left behind. I am now eighteen. I get say-so over all of it.

“I know what the right performers will be like, do, what type of show that will be what draws in a crowd. I spent my life in the limelight. I know what equipment will be used because I used it. I have pull in that community with my name attached to such a show.”

“What about college?” Grave asks.

“What about it?”

“This will take up your time, long days, endless nights. How will you go to school?”

I nod in acknowledgement.

“Well, I’m not going to college. I will take some business classes but a full college degree isn’t really something I plan on.”

“Why?” he presses.

“I never planned on going to college.”

“What did you plan on then?”

“Uh…I didn’t have a plan. Not other than putting on rock shows, getting naked on the beach and drinking Mai Tais out of coconut and somehow finding Slash.”

“Slash?” the man next to Grave asks.

“Yes. Slash. The greatest musician ever to exist or ever will. The Rock God himself.”

The younger male scoffs and my blood immediately erupts in fire.

“Tommy Lee is ten times the musician that Slash could ever be.”

Damon says my name before I lose my shit.

“Tommy Lee? Tommy freaking Lee? I’m not even going to bring up how Tommy Lee is a DRUMMER who resorted to showman gimmicks. Granted, the cage is cool, Slash, a guitarist—not a, THE GUITARIST—didn’t need such things.

“He was an inventor to challenge himself with the double-barrel guitar, not some dog and pony show. Slash also wouldn’t have fucked things up with someone as hot as Sharon Stone.

“And never would he have been a shitty woman beater. Like Tommy Lee. Tommy didn’t even get Pamela Anderson in her prime. He had to wait until she was all silicone and Botox.

“Slash would have had her, Sharon, and Tommy’s curtain wife all on their damn knees and begging for his cock before Tommy Dumbass Lee even got the first line of coke up his nose.”

The man’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water—Damon calls my name again to get me away before I lose my temper.

I don’t play when it comes to my man.

“Let’s get back on topic.”

I let out an angry breath.

“Are there any questions or concerns I can address for any of you?”

I look around the room and open the floor back up to anyone willing.

“If there is while I wait for your decision, you can consult your booklet. I have zoning codes, budgeting, a plan pertaining construction, my blueprint, common questions with their answers.

“I have some information on the three clubs I took data from to come up with these numbers. The types of toys that are naturally a best seller, laws surrounding what we will be doing.

“And I even added an environmental study on how it would affect the land, where parking would be, pricing and menu options. I guess that’s it. This is the end of my presentation and I thank you for the time.”

I look at everyone and blow Damon a kiss before walking out with Dane.

The click of the door is loud and makes my heart hammer.

This is it.

~Will I pass?~