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Mary Lou and I toured the redecorated club. Ivy and Brody had jumped at the chance to redo Dungeon’s ugly dark interior. The theme was clear. Angel art and statues were placed everywhere in subtle ways.
“It’s like being inside of a cloud with sparkles,” Mary Lou said.
“That’s the idea.” It was bright and clean, done in silver and white. There was still a bar and tables. It was a club, after all.
“Will people come to a bar with an angel theme?” Greg asked.
“We’ll see,” I said.
“The churchiest crowd won’t approve of alcohol,” Ivy pointed out.
“It’s not for them. It’s a gateway bar and restaurant. The kitchen is done but I don’t have a chef or wait staff yet. There will be a bar area and dining area. But it’s a nice place to go out that isn’t trying to scare or corrupt everyone. Nothing illegal allowed. No drugs, no hookers, and strict carding on alcohol.” I shrugged.
“In New Orleans,” Greg reminded me.
“Where’s your faith, Padre?” I teased. “I thought about it just being a club and the angel trend would fade fast. But a bar and elegant restaurant can last.”
“You’ve still got the name covered.” Mary Lou pointed out as we strolled outside to look over the outer facade.
“That’s the only thing I’m worried about. People might not get it. Gunnar, unveil the sign please,” I called.
Gunnar, who’d been up a ladder fiddling with something, tossed off the cover.
“Seraphim.” Greg nodded.
“Sounds dirty,” Mary Lou giggled.
“It’s a choir of angels. Seraphim, Cherubim,” I explained.
“Cherub might be better,” Mary Lou suggested.
I shook my head. “I’ll take the more mysterious route. It’ll work.”
“Who’s going to manage it?” Greg asked.
“That’s the problem. I need a good chef and a manager who can keep this place clean. Demonically and for the health code. I need someone sensitive enough to let us know when we need to reseal or rebless this place. Not that we won’t be here a lot but I want someone who gets it,” I said.
“I can get you a good chef,” Mary Lou offered.
Greg sighed. “I might have some people who want the management job. But this place is messed up. It’s ground that will be fought over.”
“That’s why I have to own it. I just want the manager to know the risks and if weird stuff happens, don’t ignore it or write it off. Call us. Get help. Don’t let it get out of control,” I said.
Ivy smiled. “Seraphim sounds very intriguing.”
Mary Lou’s phone beeped. She read the text. “I have to go. Sorry. Love the design!”
“What happened?” I asked.
“Matt has more girls to settle in. I’m glad I filled out the paperwork to operate as a nonprofit charity. I just need to convince Matt to sell me the mansion at a discount.” She headed toward the door.
“You’ve got the money to buy that mansion,” I called after her.
“Are you going to move in with them?” Ivy asked Greg.
“Not until they’re married,” I said.
“Prude,” Ivy said.
“No, it’s a transitional group home, remember? Appearances. Having a single man in a house full of young women who have been through a variety of things, possibly abuse or neglect will complicate matters or make it weird. Mary Lou still needs approvals and is subject to inspections by the state. There are rules. Not that I’m pushing marriage or moving out or anything, but Mary Lou has a project she loves and does well. Don’t screw it up playing house,” I reminded them.
“I screwed things up when she was married. I’m not sure I should complicate her life more,” Greg said darkly.
“You forgive everyone else much easier than yourself,” I teased. “No rush, but if this is self-punishment, it’s silly.”
Ivy nodded.