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“There’s two kinds of people in our world. The ‘business leaders’ and the ‘business  followers’.” The tall, lean, clean-cut man stood at one end of a black rectangular conference table which was situated in the center of the large room. “Unfortunately, from what I am seeing in the last few years, this club has been following the wrong trends, and chasing that white rabbit down into a hole of failure.” The man speaking motioned toward the projected image on the whiteboard behind him, which showed a comprehensive business plan with a few barcharts and marketing concepts to supplement the information given.

At the other end of the table, seated in high-back leather office chairs were three of Black Rhino’s management team, each seemingly captivated by their charismatic presenter as he glided through infographics and statistics regarding the past and current profit trends for the company, as well as subtle yet very relevant mistakes the nightclub has made in the past years which drove profit margins into the ground. What had once been a hotspot for not only the everyday working class, but for all those higher-ups on Wall Street, was slowly being eaten up by competitors all over New York City, and the Black Rhino felt the hit. Fortunately for them, Ethan Campbell, a friend of the owner and long-time advocate of the New York Nightclub scene was happy to impart his years of experience and wisdom on yet another struggling entertainment spot.

“Look, at the end of the day, folks, it’s not about who can throw the best parties in town.” He concluded after almost a two-hour session, closing down the PowerPoint presentation on his laptop, and clicking the projector off. “It’s about making a name that screams ‘WE THROW THE BEST FUCKIN’ PARTIES ANYWHERE IN MANHATTAN!’ “ His voice bolstered with excitement, momentarily flailing his arms out to drive the point, and then settled back to a normal tone. “It’s about having an identity that leaves an impact your guests will never forget.”

Ethan was a lot of things, to a lot of people, but everyone could agree that he would do what he set out to accomplish, or die trying. Born and raised in the Crown Heights neighborhood of central Brooklyn to a lower-middle class family and attending one of New York’s worst public school. In an attempt to not end up like his alcoholic father, or mother, who shacked up with other boyfriends just to get away from her husband, Ethan decided to get part-time work at restaurants and also attend night classes at community colleges, hoping to one day get the hell out of Brooklyn and perhaps even New York altogether. Well, long story short, he stuck around New York, but thankfully found bartending work at a few stripclubs in Manhattan and could eventually afford to live pretty decently. It wasn’t until his late twenties that he’s finally gone into business for himself, as not only a consultant for many of the clubs he’s worked for, but others across the Five Boroughs. A tough gig, sure. But well worth the effort.

“Thank you for your time, Ethan.” An older lady, one of the management staff, smiled as she shook his hand. “You certainly gave us something to think about, and I-uh” The woman still held firm to Ethan’s hand. “Hope to be seeing more of you.”

“It was my pleasure, Susan.” The man nodded with a pleasing grin, placing his other hand on top of hers. “And without a doubt, I’ll be happy to assist once you guys are ready.”

[hr]
He was glad the day was winding down. Four client meetings, all at different corners of the city, and one of which was about as sketchy as they came. He often wondered why he took certain business on in the first place, realizing that they aren’t going to benefit much from his help, nor is he going to see much in the way of monetary gain. At least he had something to look forward to later in the evening.

Ethan couldn’t help but smile to himself, thinking about the chance run-in with Clarissa. How long had it been since they saw one another? At least a few years. Time flew by like most things do, and with career, traveling, and the rush of life as it was, it seemed there was little time to dive back into anything serious. But damn if it wasn’t good to see her again. It had really been like the memories of old times came flooding back all at once. Some good. Some bad. But mostly awesome. But what the hell was a man like Ethan to do with a girl like Clare? Sure, having a cop as a girlfriend was more of a turn-on than the guy would admit, but it always felt as though things were becoming distant for each of them. As though he was going in one direction, as she was moving in the opposite. 

[i]Hmm. C'est la vie.[/i]