Four Billionaires for St. Patrick's Day: An MFMMM Menage Reverse Harem Romance

by Sierra Sparks

  My regulars came in, but then I heard someone running up. It was Sandy the baker. He looked like he’d been through Hell.

  “Sandy, I’m so glad you’re all right,” I said.

  “It’s gone, Claire,” he said, welling up with tears. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Come in, come in,” I counseled. “Let me buy you a beer.”

  I poured everyone a green beer. Sandy took a sip and placed it back down. He was a big, burly guy. Whenever I went to the baker, he was always friendly, always had a smile. Not today.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “I came in this morning to start baking. Irish soda bread was going to be top of my list today,” he sniffed. “As soon as I walked in, I could smell gas. Out of habit, I hit the light, then foosh!”

  “The place ignited? My God, you could’ve been killed!” I said.

  “I heard a click right before I hit the switch. The flames burned off my arm hair, look,” he said showing his now bare arm. “Another step and I’d be dead.”

  “Must’ve been a gas leak, right?” I suggested.

  “That don’t sound like no gas leak,” said McCleary. “If you had left the gas on all night, there’d be nothing of this block left.”

  “Yeah,” added Stetson. “Would’ve been an explosion. A big one.”

  “Oh, God,” said Sandy. “It must’ve been Rodash or someone he hired!”

  “Look, I know those guys are assholes,” I said. “But murder? I mean, that’s another whole level of evil. Why would they risk it?”

  “Because I wouldn’t sell!” said Sandy. “My mother built that bakery from nothing. It was her legacy. I know you understand. Oh, God.”

  “You have insurance,” I said. “You’ll rebuild. The new place will be better.”

  “I might have to take the offer, Claire,” said Sandy grimly. “I don’t want to, but this war with the Rodashes is killing the location. I might be better off in a new spot. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, if you have to, I understand,” I said. “You have to do what’s best for you.”

  “I feel like I’m betraying you,” he said sadly.

  “No-no, don’t say that,” I assured him. “My bar is three generations. Part of a bar is the neighborhood it’s in. Bakeries are a little different, ya know? It’s fine.”

  “Oh, God! I just remembered, your order! Where are you going to get your bread?”

  Oh, crap. Where was I going to get bread now? Just then, the boys arrived. Their timing was perfect. Always to the rescue.

  “Guys, I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

  “What’s up? We saw the bakery,” said Jax. “Everything here okay?”

  “Yeah, this is Sandy, he owned the bakery,” I introduced.

  The guys shook his hand and told them how sorry they were. We caught them up on all that had been discussed.

  “So wait, you need bread? We’ll go get you some bread with the limo,” suggested Travis. “How much do you need?”

  “Ask Fernando in the back, he can give you numbers and brands,” I said. “But wait, are you sure the limo can fit all that bread?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” said Travis. “C’mon, Kenner, you and me.”

  “I’ve got your back…bro,” said Kenner.

  “So,” said Brax. “You heard this click, you say. You’re sure it wasn’t the light switch.”

  “No, I heard the switch and then another click,” explained Sandy. “And the place was full of gas.”

  “You think it’s arson?” asked Jax.

  “Can’t be sure,” said Brax somberly. “But if it is, I promise you I will bring down Caleb and Marta.”

  Sandy finished his beer and got prepared to leave.

  “I appreciate the concern,” said Sandy. “Thanks everyone.”

  “If there’s anything else I can do to help,” I offered. “Just let me know. I’ll be a bit crazy today, but after things die down…”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” said Sandy. “You just take care. You have these guys watch your back, but if it was arson. This place is next. Thankfully, I don’t live above the bakery.”

  And with that, Sandy left and a few more customers piled in. I had only been open a few minutes and already the place was filling up.

  “He’s right,” said Jax. “If they did burn down the bakery, this place is next. We have to be careful.”

  “They wouldn’t dare burn down the bar now,” said Brax. “Too suspicious. One fire you perhaps get away with, but two fires? On the same block? And the only two hold outs? No, they must have something else in mind, but what?”

  “I hate to point this out,” said Jax. “But it is possible it was just a fire that was unlucky for Sandy, but lucky for the Rodashes.”

  “I don’t believe in luck,” said Brax. “People in business make their own luck.”

  “If there’s arson, the cops will figure it out, right?”

  “Cops,” scoffed Brax. “You wait for the police to get to the bottom of something, you’re going to be waiting for a long time. I’m going to call a friend. He’s a private investigator. Does these sorts of things for a living. Excuse me.”

  Brax pulled out his phone and walked to the corner of the room. I served Jax a green beer.

  “Happy Saint Patty’s Day,” I smiled.

  “And to you too lass,” winked Jax while doing a terrible Irish accent. “Can you bring me a wee bowl of Lucky Charms?”

  “How about a hamburger? Fernando has this new one where he draws a shamrock in pesto on top of the burger.”

  “That sounds good, I’ll try that. Medium rare, please,” ordered Jax. “You sure you’re okay.”

  “Yeah. I just feel bad for Sandy,” I said. “He’s been a good friend. He’s the only one that seems to understand why I’m holding onto my bar. Not even my brothers understand.”

  “I understand,” said Jax. “This is a great place. I saw the minute I came in here. Legacies aren’t just about buildings or business. They’re about family. This place keeps you tied into your family even though they’re gone.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “I’ll bet your dad would’ve been real proud of you,” said Jax. “Speaking of your brothers, where are they?”

  “Oh, they just opened a tattoo parlor,” I explained. “They’re good guys, but new at the business end of things. I try not to distract them with my problems.”

  “What else is family for?” laughed Jax. “I tell Brax my problems all the time, not that he listens.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “He seems to listen well enough.”

  “C’mon,” scoffed Jax. “My whole life he’s been putting me down. Telling me I made the wrong decisions. Ya know, he’s not mean about it. Just critical. When I was doing music, when I was painting…”

  “But you’re not doing those things now,” I said. “Maybe he saw that wasn’t the real you.”

  “Maybe, but what is the real me?” asked Jax. “That’s the question. It’s great making a lot of money at Cadance, but… Doesn’t feel like we’re changing the world.”

  “John Lennon said think globally, but act locally,” I pointed out. “You can’t change the world, but you can change your little piece of it.”

  “Is that what you try to do here?” he asked.

  “These days, all it seems I do is try to make it day to day,” I laughed. “Survival has been the priority.”

  “You need to make time for yourself, babe,” he said, taking my hand.

  “Babe? I like the way you call me that,” I said. “Gives me a chill.”

  I leaned in close and kissed him. It was a long, sustained, deep kiss. It was the kind of kiss that would sustain me over today’s massive workload.

  “Erin go bragh, babe,” he smiled.

  “Erin go braugh,” I smiled back.

  “Okay, I’ve talked to my man,” said Brax walking back to the bar. “I should have a copy of the police report soon.”
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br />   “Wow, that’s fast!” I exclaimed. “Should I call Sandy.”

  “It’s best he doesn’t know anything for now,” said Brax. “My friend has connections in high and low places. For legal reasons, he may not want to be tied into that. But if we have to, I assure you the Rodashes will pay.”

  “You sound pretty determined,” I said.

  “I don’t like to see people bullied,” said Brax. “When you run in my circle, you meet plenty of ruthless, driven and ambitious people. Most of them are just that, but there are a select few that are…twisted. What drives them is the thought of stepping on other people. Making others feel small so they can feel big. I cannot tolerate such folk and I will fight them with every bit of resource at my disposal.”

  Kenner came in through the front door. He was carrying bags and bags of bread.

  “Hey guys, lil’ help,” he asked. “We cleaned out a bakery across town, but I don’t think we got enough.”

  “Where’s Travis?” I asked.

  “In the limo, under several bags of bread,” he explained a little out of breath.

  “I’ll help,” said Jax, getting up and going outside.

  “Why didn’t you pull into the back?” I asked.

  “The driver said the limo’s too long to maneuver in that tiny parking lot,” explained Kenner. “So he parked outside.”

  “All right, whatever,” I said. “Thanks Kenner. How much do I owe you guys for the bread?”

  “Eh, we’ll square up later,” he assured.

  The guys unloaded the limo of all the bread. Fernando was a little annoyed that he wouldn’t have fresh baked rolls for the various sandwiches and creations he was working on, but I assured him it was fine for today. With the amount of customers rolling in and out of the bar, we’d be lucky to keep up.

  Brax got behind the bar again. He ate a sandwich while tending bar. Kenner bussed the tables and washed the dishes. We were actually keeping up, but the rush had barely started.

  “People like this Saint Patty’s Day stuff, huh?” said Kenner in amazement. “It was never really a big holiday for me.”

  “Well, I guess you don’t really drink all that much,” I joked. “It’s really more of a holiday for drinking.”

  “That’s a thing in Ireland, right? Drinking?” asked Kenner.

  “Yes, that’s pretty common knowledge,” I said a little surprised. “You know, Irish people and drinking. The stereotype?”

  “I thought Irish people were known for great writers,” said Kenner kind of naively.

  “Who drink waaaaay too much,” I added.

  “Hey! Speaking of drinking!” called one of the customers. “We need another pitcher--- Two pitchers of beer down here!”

  “Coming up, sir!” I said.

  “That was rude,” said Kenner under his breath.

  “Believe me, it’ll get a whole lot ruder as the night wears on,” I assured him. “Thanks for helping me.”

  I gave him a quick kiss. I didn’t want to do a long kiss like I had done with Jax. With Kenner, it would’ve been too much of a distraction. He was happy I was just paying attention to him.

  It was interesting. Although we weren’t in an official relationship yet, I felt like the dynamic was revealing itself to me. I could start to see who would need the most attention and who wouldn’t. Brax, of course, was very self-sufficient. Although when he wanted attention, he wanted a lot of it and tended to steal the show from the other guys. Like he did under the bar that night! Wow! Talking about stealing the show.

  I pulled the taps on two pitchers, rushed them to the table, took some more drink orders and came back. Brax was still pouring drinks like a champ. Fortunately, he wasn’t drinking and pouring. That’s a lesson every bartender has to learn the hard way! I did and boy, was that a hangover!

  “You’re very good with them,” Brax suddenly said as I washed some glasses. “With all of us and the others. You’re very good.”

  “Well, thanks,” I said. “Guess you’re sort of being used to being in charge of the group, huh?”

  “Yes, I suppose,” Brax confessed. “I have certain leadership qualities and I revel in being the alpha male, of course. Although Jax, in his own way, is sometimes more alpha male than I am.”

  “Do you think...you criticize him too much?” I asked gingerly.

  “Did he say that?” asked Brax.

  “Not in so many words,” I deflected.

  “My parents indulged him a bit, I’m afraid,” said Brax. “He was always a dreamer with the music and art and the Peace Corp. He wanted to change the world. Ambitious, but I thought it better to bring him down to Earth.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I guess because I was like him in my own way,” said Brax. “But somewhere along the way, I lost my idealism. I decided that money was the route to success. In some ways it is, but in more important ways it is not.”

  “Did you bring your brother down to Earth because you didn’t want him to suffer the same disappointment as you did?” I asked.

  “No, more selfish than that, I’m afraid,” said Brax looking towards the horizon. “I guess I didn’t want to believe you can change the world. If Jax had succeeded his way, then my way would’ve been wrong. I wanted to beat him competitively. That’s a terrible thing to say because I actually admire his idealism quite a bit.”

  “Did you ever tell him that?” I asked.

  “Hmm, you know, perhaps it’s time I did,” Brax agreed. “You’re good to talk to Claire. You see things clearly for me. I like that.”

  “Ah, I’m just a fresh pair of eyes on an old situation,” I dismissed. “You guys did the same for me and much more.”

  “Hopefully, we’ll be doing much more for you soon again,” suggested Brax. “I seem to recall a wonderful moment under the bar, but it’s a bit fuzzy.”

  Fernando had an order up and I took that moment to end the conversation. Did Brax forget or was he teasing? I wasn’t sure. I wouldn’t want to embarrass him, but that night couldn’t be the first time he got that drunk. Oh, well, there would be time enough later to sort through that.

  Kenner was moving a large rack of glassware from one side of the bar to another. He slipped and dropped the entire container of glass. The glassware shattered and the whole bar erupted in laughter and cheers, but not me.

  “Oh, God,” I said.

  “I’m so sorry, Claire,” apologize Kenner. “It just slipped.”

  “No, no worries,” I assured him. “We’re just going to be really short on glassware.”

  I started sweeping up the piles of glass, while Kenner held the dustpan.

  “Hey, the limo passed a dollar store on the way back from the bakery. It’s not too far. Let me run down there and see what I can find,” he offered.

  “How are you going to carry all the glasses back?” I pointed out. “We need like four dozen of them at least.”

  Just then, Jax and Travis arrived with the bread. Problem solved. The boys took the bread in the back for Fernando and Jax and Kenner left to find me some more glasses. Travis took a seat at the bar. He smelled like bread.

  “You smell delicious,” I teased.

  “Yeah, I spent the last hour and half sitting in and covered with bags of bread,” he laughed. “More carbs than I would eat in ten years!”

  “Is that how you maintain that sexy bod?” I asked.

  “It’s a lot more work than that!” Travis explained. “You have to literally count every calorie and anything even close to fat--- Forget it. It’s the only way you can get these.”

  Travis pulled up his shirt and showed off his six-pack. Tina was walking by with a tray of food. She slowed down to peek.

  “Jesus Christ,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Table six is waiting,” I reminded her.

  She hurried off to table six. Quite frankly, I couldn’t blame her. Travis was, head to toe, an Abercrombie and Fitch model. When you look that good, quite frankly, it didn’t matter what y
ou wore. But on top of everything else, Travis had an amazing suit, expensive watch and jewelry and great taste in all of it. I kind of zoned out just taking inventory in my mind.

  “Claire?” he said smiling.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “Zoned out for a second.”

  “No worries,” he said leaning back on the bar. “Happens all the time.”

  “Thanks for getting all that bread,” I said.

  “Thanks for justifying the use of our limo,” he said. “I thought it was a waste of money when Brax started doing it, but it’s actually paying off today.”

  “It’s fine,” assured Brax. “It’s a company limo. I write the whole thing off as an expense. If we didn’t take a limo, the government would just tax us more. Who do you want to have a limo? Us or the government?”

  “So wait, is all the booze inside the limo bar a write off too?” asked Travis.

  “Yes, everything.”

  “Did you tell us not to drink too much in the limo?” recalled Travis.

  “I like to have a bourbon for the ride,” explained Brax. “If everyone has one, we’ll be drinking too much bourbon.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a write off,” said Travis.

  “I’m not stopping at the liquor every two blocks just so you can get drunk,” said Brax. “You don’t even like bourbon.”

  “I like free bourbon,” said Travis.

  “It’s not free, it’s a write-off,” explained Brax.

  “That’s sounds free.”

  “We still have to pay for it and then write it off and get some of the money back,” explained Brax. “You could rent your own limo and stock the bar however you like.”

  “Is it a write off?”

  “Yes. Transportation to and from work is a write off.”

  “Then you can’t write off coming here, bro.”

  “We’re talking about business, aren’t we?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess.”

  “See that? Business trip.”

  “If you ladies are finished,” I joked. “Travis, would you mind moving some food out of the kitchen window. And Brax, can you pour me six pitchers?”

  “My word,” said Brax. “We’re asleep at the switch. Sorry, boss.”

  The lunch rush grinded on. It was getting pretty insane. There was so much cash in the register, I had to move half of it upstairs to the safe just to get it out of the way. I even had to cash out all the dollar bills in the tip jar because it was getting too full. Now it was a lot lower, but all twenties.