"Welcome to opening night!" Kat paced the room in front of her gathered mass of employees. The long waist coat she was wearing flowed about her as she moved back and forth through and around the assembled crowd.
Everyone was nervous. The outside had a line that wrapped around the building, and Kat had been pressuring everyone to be picture perfect because there were going to be photographers from many of the local papers covering opening day. A popular local band was set up and ready to go. The security staff, in their dark red t-shirts with 'security' written boldly in black letters across the front and back, were gathered together, as were the waitresses. Kat had decided to stick with the original Merch uniforms, and the sea of bustier clad, high heeled serves was quite the sight.
Four bartenders manned stations behind the bar. They, too, had a uniform. Kat had called it a butch version of the uniforms the waitresses were wearing: black dress boots, black dress slacks, leather belt with matte silver buckle, black form fitted vest with a white undershirt, and a pink tie that matched the pink in the server's uniforms.
"I realize this is the first time we've all met, and I'm sorry I couldn't arrange a meet and greet before tonight. But you know we've been pressed for time. Please take a few moments to get to know your fellow employees. I have a few things I want you to remember before I open that door," she pointed to the still locked front door. "First of all, there is a hierarchy here. If you had any doubt as to who is in charge, let me lay it all out for you. Regardless of what your title or job might be outside of this bar, in here I am the boss, and my word is law. If you have an issue with that, leave now. You can call me whatever you like: Boss, Bitch, Kat, or Ma'am. I don't care. I'll answer to it all, but know that, when things are busy and hectic, I expect you to do what I tell you to do if and when I tell you to do it. Got it?"
Murmurs of confirmation floated through the room.
"Good. If I'm engaged or not around, and there's a safety issue, the security staff is next in charge. Don't question them if they tell you do something regarding the safety of our people and our customers. If they're forcing you to do something else, then you can question. Right after, you come to me, and I'll take care of them, and," she looked over to her security team, "I will take care of you. You don't want that. Don't abuse your power. Within the security staff, if Rizzoli is here, she's in charge. If she's not, it's Murphy, then O'Hare, then Chekov. Got it?"
"Hey, why she the one in charge?" One of the larger, more muscled men stepped up as he pointed to the more petite woman next to him.
"Because I said so. Did you not hear a word that just came out of my mouth? The next words from you should be, 'Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am. No problem. We'll follow Rizzoli's lead'. If you need more than that, Turner, you ask her what she does for her day job. Got it?" Despite the looming size difference between the petite brunette and the massive male in front of her, she seemed to overpower him, and he quickly backed down.
The room fell silent as the battle of wills was quickly fought. "Yes, ma'am," Tuner replied, losing the battle and stepping back. "I'm sorry, ma'am. No problem," he said through gritted teeth, "We'll follow Rizzoli's lead." He glanced at the only woman on the security force. "What do you do?"
"I'm a detective for the Boston P.D." She smirked, eyes sparkling with pride and smugness. "Homicide division."
"Fine," Turner grumbled, crossing his arms and frowning.
Kat glanced at the rest of the crowd. "Anyone else? No? Good. Moving on, outside of security, the bartenders are second in the lineup. I expect you to treat them well. Without them, we don't have a business. Conversely, I expect them to treat you well. Same drill. They don't, you come tell me, and we'll deal. And everyone needs to remember our wait staff is not just eye candy for you to drool over. They are professionals and should be treated as such. This is a bar. There's going to be flirting. In fact, I expect it. But, if someone gets handsy and one of our girls doesn't like it, step in and help. Call over security. We take care of each other, okay?"
Kat looked at Jane, who gave an approving nod.
"For my part," the owner continued on, "I'll be busy working the floor. I don't tend bar, but I will occasionally steal a table if the clients are people I think can help the business. Don't get pissy with me, ladies. I'll give you the tips. I don't need nor want them. Consider it a freebie tip. Now, let's get settled where we should be. I'm about to crack this baby open."
With a nod, everyone moved to their places as Kat removed her coat to reveal an outfit very close to the ones her wait staff wore. The differences were slight but stunning. The bustier was completely black with very fine silver embroidery around the bodice, and the matching black skirt held small silver details. Her stockings were held up with a visible garter with the stockings's lines running perfectly down the back of her legs. Her high heels finished the base of the outfit, but it was the jewelry that really set the whole thing off. Everything was silver from the rings on her hands to the bracelet and watch to the choker necklace with its single diamond pennant and matching earrings.
She looked stunning.
Jane ran into the doorframe she was supposed to be guarding, and Turner laughed. "So, Rizzoli, you come here on your off nights?"
"Shut up, Turner."
For some reason, it amuses me to no end to have Jane works nights as a bouncer at a lesbian bar.