Page 137 of Something Like Hail

“I don’t know anythingabout running a business,” Noah admitted.

“Precisely,” Marcello saidwith a curt nod.

Noah scrunched up his face at Harold. “Idon’t get why you would turn that down. You need to think aboutyour future too.”

Harold rubbed the back of his neck. “I liketo keep things simple. Between clients and training, I’ve gotenough to do. I don’t want to sign paychecks and worry aboutbalancing books. That’s not who I am.”

“And yet,” Marcello said,“you possess an intimate knowledge of the club’s innermostworkings.”

“And it pays nothing,”Harold countered.

“It isn’t a profitableenterprise,” Marcello admitted. “That’s true.”

“You aren’t making anymoney from the GAC?” Noah asked, not hiding hissurprise.

Marcello reached for a bottle of oil tosquirt some on his arms, then began rubbing it in. “For me, it’smore of a moral conviction than a successful business model. Takinga cut of any undocumented activities would be illegal, anddemanding a higher hourly rate from our clients would lead them topaying the escorts less.”

“But you could include morelegal activities,” Noah insisted. “Webcam sites are really popularright now, and the viewers are always hoping to find someone intheir area. That could be good advertising. Or if you keep itlimited to the GAC, you can charge a monthly access fee. Escortscould work from home in rotating shifts to earn tips, and itdoesn’t even have to get sexual. Sometimes keeping it in your pantscan be hotter.”

“Indeed,” Marcello said,letting his eyes travel over their bodies. “Although I’m skepticalthat membership fees would be enough to provide anyone with asalary.”

“Then how about coursestoo?” Noah said. “A lot of these guys have really good hearts. Theyjust lack the skills needed to date successfully. Escorts haveenough experience to teach them a trick or two. Or you could chargea higher hourly rate for mystery dates. If you set up that databaseI was talking about, it would be easier to find a guy they hadn’tmet before who could meet their exact needs. The perfect date! Afantasy service would be cool too, where we help them enact morecomplicated scenarios. We always meet them as ourselves, but beingan escort requiressomeacting ability. Roleplaying, complete withcostumes, characters, and maybe even the right setting, like alocker room. That would be worth a higher hourly rate.”

“You’re just full ofideas,” Marcello said, clearly amused.

Noah wouldn’t be discouraged. He turned toHarold again. “You should do it. You’ll need a different jobeventually. Turning a profit wouldn’t be that difficult.”

“I’m not a businessman,”Harold said, shaking his head. “You do it!”

“He hasn’t been offered thejob,” Marcello pointed out. “While I admire his creativity, hestill lacks practical knowledge.”

Noah didn’t take that personally. He wasfine with hauling around equipment. He wanted Harold to have abetter option for his future though, because eventually thatstunning face would wrinkle and those muscles would start to sag,no matter how much he fought against time. “You should do it,” Noahurged. “I know you can.”

“I’m not good at stuff likethat.” Harold shook his head. “I’d mess it up. Trustme.”

“What a shame,” Marcellosaid after tsking. “One of you has the necessary experience, theother the ambition. If only there was some way of combining youtogether. An idea occurs to me, as do a few positions, but theyhave very little to do with business.”

“You’re already trainingevery new employee,” Noah said, attention still on Harold. “Youknow all the clients and they love you. I’m sure the escorts dotoo. That idea about playing characters comes from you. Why do youthink I’m driving a rusty old truck around? It fits my image. Youwere right about that from the start. You’ve got a good instinctfor these things. All you’d need to do is a little paperwork andsome reinventing.”

“I’d psych myself out,”Harold said. “That’s way too much responsibility for oneperson.”

“Getting warmer,” Marcellosaid, shaking the bottle of oil. “Who wants to do myback?”

“We could team up,” Noahsaid. “Marcello is right. We each have half of what’s needed. Iknow we could do it together.”

“I like how simple my lifeis,” Harold repeated, expression pained. “I really do.”

“Right,” Noah said. “Sorry.I get that it’s not for you.” He turned to his boss. “I’ll take thecrew job. Thank you.”

“Wait!” Harold said. Hishead was hung, but when he looked up again, his expression wasdetermined. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Marcello said. Hepursed his lips thoughtfully. “It’s an intriguing idea, but I’meven less certain this enterprise could generate enough to supporttwo salaries.”

“I’ll go on my dates,”Harold said. “During the day, I’ll do the office stuff, and atnight, I’ll make my money how I do now.”

Except it was clear that the idea didn’tappeal to him. Not the daytime work, anyway. “That’s sweet of you,”Noah said. “You don’t have to do this though. Seriously.”

“Yes, I do,” Harold said,jutting out his chin. “Seriously.”