Chapter 2: Lainey

We mostly live off of investments, as well as my job as an agent for a home builder and realtor. I can find peoples dream houses, or situations, or help create them. It’s not as lucrative as investing, but I pay the bills and we live pretty comfortably. One investment I made that makes my very happy was a property with what supposed to be an elite gentlemen’s club. The buzz around when it was being built it caused quite a stir and city fathers quashed it before it ever opened. Lawsuits flew around for years and finally the builder/investor had to let it go for a greatly reduced price that I won at auction. It was always assumed that I would tear it down and take away a scar the city had to live down for a lot of years. At the center of it all was a sculpture of a man and woman engaged in what appeared to be, not totally convincingly, sex. It was the centerpiece of the building as it was being vetted for opening. I destroyed that and proceeded to finish the interior where it could be a nightclub and bar/restaurant. I knew about plans for an I-487 connector that would encourage development of the previously woe begotten area. I really needed little to make the inside presentable to a qualified entrepreneur. Enter “Duffy’s Darn Good”, a place now easily accessible to the State workers who worked in a new nearby office campus, and near 3 other chain restaurants, and an exclusive steak house. The strip between exit 8A and 9B of 487 became the Million Dollar Mile.

There was no Duffy, and darn good “what” we never knew, but the name and place clicked loudly. I had a 15 year loan out and leased the spot to Eli Danderidge who had a knack for opening spots like this and moving on as soon as they began “getting old”. His lease was 10 years, and he had an easy out after 3 years, I had an option out after 5 years, and the right to raise his monthly lease payment by as much as 15% each year after 6 with his option out at 8 years, or renegotiating..

The deal was I would drop in the 1st of every month and get my check. If the 1st fell on a weekend, it was the following Monday. It was my way of seeing the building and making sure it was taken care of, and seeing the owner once a month to keep our relationship alive. I would always walk in at 3:45, just before the State workers began to show and Lainey, the bar manager would page Eli and simply say “Alex”. We were both happy with the deal. My mortgage payment was $3795.51 a month after I put down half, and I charged him 5K per month with a double payment in December or January. (when you divide 4 week months into 52 weeks years, you get 13 months) It was my edge. Eli never put me off, never gave me a bad check, never floated or kited payment.

Lainey was damn pretty enough, but she certainly was no youngster, maybe 40 to 45 years old. However she ran a tip-top bar and hired guys and gals who served her well. There was no screwing around, no second chances for those who did. I’ve rarely ever been there at any time of the day or night when I would see a new face. People loved working there, in the bar, and treasured their jobs.

After 4 years of my showing up on the 1st, Lainey and I developed a good friendly relationship. There was usually 1,2 or 3 folks at the bar at that 3:45 time as her day shift was ending. Some day’s she would be animate when I arrived for her patrons.

“Thank God my boyfriend has come to save from all of this.”

That would be typical of her greeting for me and she air kissed me over the bar before she paged Eli. After Eli came out with my envelope she would, most times, walk out with me, and, on a few occasions, ask for a ride.

“You don’t have a car? Eli should pay you enough for that!” I semi-joked one time..

“When my boyfriend took off he took the car we bought. That was a couple years ago and the police are still looking for it. Obviously, neither he nor the car is coming back.” She said with a sad face, almost near tears.

“Lainey, an attractive woman like you must get hit on 10 times a day in Duffy’s. Move on, there are a lot of men who would treat you right out there.” I told her.

“Those guys want a fast hump and a blowjob, not a girlfriend. I guess they all figure I’m easy because I work behind the bar. I’ve haven’t left with a customer for a long time. You don’t shit where you eat.” She said disparagingly.