
Eight coaches, two halls, sixty recreational classes a week and a phone at the desk that nobody can leave the floor for. Stella answers every call, enrols into classes with live counts, runs the waitlist, books trials, camps and one-to-ones into each coach's hours — and refills the sick-child cancellation from the list.
Apex Gymnastics, this is Stella — how can I help you?
You don't need another club app on top of the one you have. You need someone who picks up, knows every class's count in both halls, and books the trial without a coach leaving the floor.
Stella knows the live count and the level, offers what has room, and enrols a trial on the spot.
The universal six, and two that matter when the book is sixty classes and four kinds of booking.
No menus, no “press one”, no hold music, no disclaimer wall. Place, first name, how can I help — in one breath. Then she listens instead of interrogating. And she's there at 7:40 in the morning and 9 at night — when the parent thinks of it, not when you open.
She searches actual availability — who is where, doing what, for how long, in which chair or room — and never double-books. If she offers 2:20, 2:20 is free.
Reminders go out ahead of time. When someone can't make it, she handles the flustered call with warmth and finds the next time without drama.
A cancelled four o'clock is the one slot you can't sell tomorrow. The moment it frees, she offers it — by text — to the people who've said they'd take short notice, who wanted earlier, or who owe a make-up. First yes takes it; nobody else hears about it.
A four o'clock cancels? She asks the five o'clock if they'd like to come earlier. Nobody is obliged, and it cascades — you finish at five, not six.
Someone turns down a 9am; she stops leading with mornings for them. Preferences, never rules — and when she checks, she uses very few words.
Classes are published with a capacity per hall; she enrols by voice or text into the live count and runs the waitlist when full — the first family gets the text the moment a place opens.
A holiday camp is a class with places; a one-to-one is open booking into a coach's hours; a trial is a place with a note. One Stella, one honest answer — and she complements the club app you already run.
She takes the 7:38 text the moment it comes — the mother doesn't have to wait until nine and forget. Runway is money: the earlier she knows, the more people she can offer the slot to once your outbound hours open, and the likelier it fills. Your policy — 24 hours' notice, a make-up credit, a fee — is yours; she states it plainly, applies it the same way every time, and never guilt-trips a parent.
Everyone on the short-notice list asked to be on it. Nobody is nagged; nobody hears another client's business.
Rain, a burst pipe, a birth, the autoclave, the hall double-booked — the whole block moves, and it's your call, not the client's. You say it once; she works out who's affected, offers each person the right alternative in their own words, waives the fee, logs the reason, and reports back. When it's an overrun rather than a closure she works by who can still act: the people who haven't left home yet get the call and the choice; the people already in the room get the honest ETA and a coffee; nobody further out is touched until the delay is still growing. Nobody hears why; nobody rings the desk.
Hall B's booked for the competition all weekend. Move Saturday's rec classes to Hall A or next week.
A class is a published shell with N places; a one-to-one is search-then-create into a coach's hours. Same ledger, two supply paths — one honest answer for a class, a trial, a camp or a private.
A coach who leaves the floor to answer the phone isn't spotting. Somebody else has to pick up.
A panel at reception: which class is next in which hall, who's new, who's on the list. One button to say “move squad to Hall B.” Equipment reps and scam calls never reach the floor.
Between classes, a glance and you know. Nothing to tap.
No “press one”. No “your call is important to us”. No recorded disclaimers before a human word. Warm, short, present — and honest if you ask what she is.
She offers what's in your catalogue and staff profiles. She won't crown a “best” anyone or promise an outcome. A time she offers is a time that's free.
A moved client hears “we need to move your Tuesday — let me find you another time.” Never who, never why. And once moved kindly, they're not yo-yo'd back.
She doesn't lead with it and doesn't apologise for it. Ask, and she'll tell you plainly: she's the assistant. She helps; that's what people remember.
Your classes and capacities per hall, your coaches and hours, your camps, your term dates. She's configured by hand for the first clubs — a few at a time.
Stella is in early access with a small number of practices and salons. Tell us about your phone and we'll tell you plainly whether she fits — and when.