Barbara Stokes - Swing Town U. S. A.

"Continue, Catch," said Kelly. "Knock it off, Brad. Let's wait arid hear what he has to say. You've been there. It's got to be losing money for some reason."

"The reasons I already mentioned," said Catch. "Of course the help is terrible. There's no reason to expect them to be good because too few people mean too few tips. Now for the good news. The country club is ideally located. It is in the heart of the big money suburbs. It's an attractive location, and the buildings, in spite of the decor, are sound and in good condition. I have all the figures here if you'll look on page three. It could be a swinging country club, that is pulling down a big profit. I think that this can be done at your original figure of a hundred thousand dollars. The only bad thing that I can think of is that new grouping of apartment houses that they're putting up next to the golf course. It's ruining the view."

"What do you suggest, Catch?" asked Kelly.

"Very simple, Jerry. We plant a row of Cyprus trees to block out the buildings. That saves the view."

"But they'll squawk," complained Corson. "And that's the view that the people who are going to be renting the apartments want."

"That's the kind of thinking which has kept the country club a jerkwater affair," said Catch, hotly. "Fuck their view! It's our property and we can do what we want to it. Nobody asked you guys whether or not they could build the buildings, did they?"

"Catch is right," said Keefe. "The hell with the apartment buildings. Let's get those trees up. Go on, Catch."

"Well gentlemen, what I'm proposing after several weeks of researching the subject, is quite a radical change."

"How radical?" asked Corson.

"Just this radical. Bradley, I propose that membership be made available to single people."

Corson shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Wait, let me explain. Up until now you've only allowed married couples and members of families to join this country club. Gentlemen, that hasn't worked, it will not work. Young people want to be with young people, and a lot of them aren't getting married anymore. They want to go places where they can meet other unmarried people, and it sure as hell isn't the Bayou Country Club. I recommend that we get some snappy decorator in there, and at a minimal fee redo some of those dreary rooms. I would say that without a doubt most of the help should go, particularly the chef. The food's horrible. What they need is something that includes a lot of fast light-weight things like salads, burgers, steaks. All the young people are on diets. Maybe set up a yogurt bar with stools so that those in a hurry can eat without going through all the hoopla of sitting down in the dining room. The new help should be young, attractive and on their toes. We ought to get a couple of beefy, good-looking lifeguard's. We've got to get rid of that little faggot who's working there now. He won't attract anything but fruit flies."

"But… but…" Corson sputtered, "that's the son of one of our prominent members."

"I don't give a rat's ass. He's a faggot and I don't have anything against faggots in particular but they attract other faggots, and that's not the kind of club you want. I propose we build a few more tennis courts, even if we have to cut into the golf course. Golf is an old man's game. The young people like tennis. I think we ought to do some advertising, have a couple of sexy girls and one of our new he-man lifeguards pose by the pool. That'll draw people. Gentlemen, you can sell shit if you advertise it right. I also propose that you enlarge the parking lot. You're going to need the space if you accept this report. That's all I have to say, gentlemen, the facts and figures are there for you to look at. I've been paid for my work, you have it. It's up to you to decide what you want to do with it."

"Catch, would you mind waiting outside while we discuss this?" said Kelly.

"Not at all."

Catch left the conference room and went out to the reception room. He sat down and read a magazine but couldn't keep his mind on the printed page. The reception room still smelled of Miss Simmons' cologne. He'd wished that they hadn't been so rushed. If things went well he decided he would ask her out for dinner that night to celebrate.

Inside the conference room the men were heatedly discussing Catch's proposals. Dwyer, Keefe and Kelly were accepting them right down the line. The only problem was Corson, who was a bit of a conservative.

At last, Kelly, exasperated, said, "Look, Brad, if you don't want to go along with the ideas that Catch has, then I suggest the three of us buy out your interest in the country club and let it go at that."

Corson considered. He was too smart a businessman to let the opportunity pass him by. "All right," he said finally, "I'm in. I'll do what the majority decides."

"I thought you'd come around," said Kelly, with a smile. Kelly went to the door and yelled for Catch to come in.

"Catch, we've decided to accept your proposal, and a very good proposal it is, if I may say so."

"Well, gentlemen, I guess my work's finished."

"We'd like it if you'd stay on for awhile, Catch, on full salary of course, and oversee some of the changes that are going to be made," asked Kelly.

"Well, I…"

"We'd appreciate it very much if you did," said Keefe, "and if things turn out the way we hope there will be a large bonus for you."

"Very well, gentlemen, I'll stay."

The meeting broke up. On his way out, Catch stopped by Miss Simmons' desk. She looked up and smiled.

"I thought your report was smashing, Mr. Callahan."

"I think you're smashing, Miss Simmons. How about dinner tonight?"

She looked distressed. Catch was confused. Was he losing his touch?

"I'm sorry, Catch, I can't. You see I use my maiden name for business. I'm married… to Mr. Corson."

"Enough said," replied Catch, and went to ring for the elevator. Miss Simmons got up and went to where he was standing and whispered, "I appreciate your offer. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed this morning."

"I did too, Amy."

She glanced nervously at the closed door of the conference room and hurriedly kissed him on the lips.

"Come early for a meeting again sometime, Catch."

The Bayou Country Club was closed for repairs for a month. All the help except for a few guards were let go. The company which was building the apartment buildings next to the golf course protested when the trees began to be planted. They sought a court injunction but couldn't stop the land development corporation for doing what they wished with their own property.

Catch's first problem was finding a decorator that he liked to plan the decor for the new look he wanted for the Bayou Country Club. He visited showrooms and held interviews but he couldn't find what he wanted. One afternoon, he was passing Harrow's Department Store and happened to look in the windows. He was struck by the "now" look of the windows. He went inside and inquired in the office who was responsible.

The manager informed him that the windows were designed by a freelance decorator by the name of Starlyn Heywood. He got Miss Heywood's phone number and called for an appointment. She sounded young, earnest, and definitely interested in the job.

Around five o'clock he drove to her apartment and rang the bell. He walked up the three flights to the top floor of the Townhouse. Miss Heywood was waiting at the door. Catch did a double take when he saw her. She was a beautiful, raven-haired woman with a figure to match. She was wearing slacks and a man's shirt and there was a smudge of paint on her pretty cheek.

"Come in, Mr. Callahan. I was just doing some work."

Her apartment was small but tastefully furnished in a mixture of styles.

"May I offer you a drink?" she asked.