Sayid sighed slightly as he checked himself in the long mirror that backed the door to his office.<em>Appearance is everything, especially on nights such as these. After all, you own this place, you control the pussy, and as such - control every hard-on that comes through that door,</em>he reminded himself, adjusting his tie and making sure that his suit jacket sat nicely on the toned body that he had spent many an hour sculpting in the gym.<br/><br/>Clearing his throat, he stepped out into the Sin Bin's VIP area. Already, he could hear the DJ testing the club's quality sound system, gauging the right audio levels for his set. Sayid surveyed the floor. The poles were polished, the stage was clear. Bar staff were placing iced bottles of green and black absinthe on each of the tables that lay in front of the unending couch which snaked around the wall of the club. VIPs got Italian leather, only the best for those who were willing to pay in kind.<br/>Sayid could sense that his staff were feeling his eyes on them, for they worked quickly and quietly. He smiled at the efficiency, uttering only one word for them all to hear before turning on his heel:<br/><br/><em>"Excellent."</em><br/><br/>Sayid quickly moved over to a corner of the bar, upon which, a man in his late twenties was frantically crossing out figures and flicking through pieces of paper. Conor was the man who helped Sayid maximise his profit. Therefore, he was automatically Sayid's favourite employee.<br/>Conor truly was a classic nerd, obsessed with his work and measuring his own success with dollar signs and multiple zeros, that being, in turn, Sayid's success. He was exactly the kind of guy that a high-end strip club like the Bin needed, and to be fair, a guy like Conor needed the Bin. It was no secret that being the boss' favourite had it's benefits. Sayid loved to keep his employees happy, after all.<br/><br/><em>"Right my friend," he started, with the slightest hint of an Arabian dialect, "If you have those figures ready, lets go tell the girls what's what as regards their finances for this evening."</em><br/><br/>Sayid didn't even wait for a response, but instantly began walking back down the corridor past his office, towards the special dressing room that was utilised only on occasions such as this, and only for Sayid's best dancers, the missing pieces of the puzzle.<br/>Sayid contemplated the clientel he was expecting for the evening as he walked. Various invitations had been sent to important, wealthy people, and several had sent their hefty cover charges in advance. They were to be mostly local businessman, some of whose businesses were less reputable than others, and curiously, at the owner's own deliberate purpose - members of local law enforcement were also to be present. Sayid was a complete cynic when it came to understanding human behaviour. When it came to cops, he knew that a free ride was enough to keep them quiet and to let his operations slip under the radar, and of course, that what exactly what he was going to provide.<br/><br/>He didn't need to turn around, for he knew that Conor had followed, despite the fact that he couldn't hear his footsteps behind him over the music. Any man would have followed with the promise of gaining entrance into the VIP Dressing Room of a strip club.<br/>Sayid nodded to Vinny, the bouncer guarding the door and took a deep breath, composing himself by attaining a state of mind that made him somewhat impervious to arousal. He laughed to himself as he recited one of his many mottos in his head,<em>Good owner = No boner</em>. There would be time to play later.<br/><br/><em>"Lets get down to business then,"</em>he said to his associate behind him as he pushed open the door, uttering an obligatory<em>"Knock knock"</em>as the two entered the dressing room without obstruction . . .<br/>