Four Billionaires for St. Patrick's Day

by Sierra Sparks

  And Jax? Jeez, that guy is just smooth with the ladies. Always was. Five years ago, he had one girl after another. And these were hot, hot women, no slouches. One is an actress. She’s on one of the Law and Order shows or one of the cop shows. My God and the porn actress he dated? I broke out in a sweat just looking at this girl!

  Travis is the one that worries me. I don’t think he would really hit anyone unless provoked, but he sounds out of control. I mean, he’s really into this girl. At least into this girl as much as I am, how could I do that to a friend? He did kiss her, but I asked her out first. Man, this is a nightmare! If only this bar was run by four beautiful women instead of just one.

  I heard someone come into the bathroom, so I got out of the stall. He went in. I washed my hands and then my face. I looked into the mirror. Who was I? Was I the kind of person that just gave up? Didn’t I deserve a girl like Claire like the other guys? We were friends. Couldn’t we compete and not hate each other afterwards?

  “Screw this,” I said determined.

  “What?” said the guy in the stall.

  “Nothing!” I said. “Not talking to you.”

  I marched out into the bar and I knew exactly what I had to do. By this time, there were more customers, so I started bussing tables. The guys were getting ready to leave.

  “What on Earth are you doing?” asked Brax.

  “Nothing,” I said dismissively. “You guys go ahead, I’ll see you later.”

  I took my plate and glass to where there was a container of dirty dishes. I stacked them with the others. Jax and the others were looking at me suspiciously.

  “Great idea, bro!” smiled Travis.

  “No-no, this is my idea, you guys go back to the office,” I insisted.

  “You can’t order me back to the office,” said Brax. “I could order you, however.”

  “I’ll take the day off. I have time,” I reminded him.

  “Dammit,” muttered Brax. “Why did I give everyone flex time?”

  Travis immediately started working a table that had finished lunch. It was a group of four people, two couples. They seemed ready to leave as well.

  “We’ll take the check,” said one of the men.

  “Oh, okay,” said Travis reluctantly. “But I’m surprised you’re going to leave already.”

  “Why? What’s happening?” he asked.

  “And aren’t you a little overdressed to be bussing tables?” asked one of the women.

  “Friend of the bar,” he explained. “Just helping out. But you guys should stay. Happy hour’s in twenty minutes and we have some good Guinness here.”

  “Hey, good call,” said the other man. “Let’s hang out for a while. We don’t have to be anywhere.”

  The rest of the table agreed. Travis picked up all their plates and silverware at once. The balance was a little precarious, but he managed to get to the bin of dirty dishes and dump the entire thing inside. It was a little loud and it was amazing he didn’t break any glassware.

  “That’s how you upsell,” said Travis to Brax.

  “Looks absurdly easy,” he said.

  While Jax and I cleared other tables, Brax went over to two old guys who had been sitting at the corner of the bar. One of them had an empty glass and he just took it.

  “Hey!” he said objecting. “That was my glass!”

  “It’s empty,” Brax pointed out.

  “Yeah, but I wanted more beer.”

  “Then I’ll get you a cleaner glass,” he explained, slightly irritated.

  Brax walked over to the dirty dishes and placed the beer glass with them.

  “All right,” he said exasperated. “I’m ready to hire some people to do this for me.”

  “You can’t,” explained Jax. “Claire can’t afford more people working here.”

  “Can you pour that gentlemen a new beer?” asked Brax.

  “Why don’t you do it?” asked his brother.

  “Because I have no way of knowing how to do so!” snapped Brax. “This is not a conference meeting, it’s a bar. Do bar things! I’ve done all I can.”

  Jax rolled his eyes and took over bartending for a minute. Claire came back from the back room and noticed us all working.

  “What’s going on here?” she asked.

  “I just figured you could use a little help,” I explained. “The guys joined me after.”

  “I’m teaching Brax how to upsell,” explained Travis proudly.

  “Uh, I don’t know guys, I appreciate the effort but…”

  Just then, fifteen college students walked into the bar in a group.

  “Hey can we just sit anywhere?” the first one asked.

  “Sure, go ahead,” said Claire. “We’ll get your menus.”

  Claire frantically gestured for us to come closer.

  “Okay, if you’re going to help me, you have to do it right. There are aprons in the kitchen with the Bad Penny logo on them. Put them on and take off those suit jackets.

  “Ooo, I don’t like that,” said Brax making a sour face. “Is there something where I can do where I boss the others around?”

  “No. Uh, why don’t you get behind the bar? I’ll show you how to use the tap. The rest of you, make sure our new guests have menus, there’s pads and pens over here to write down their orders,” explained Claire. “Any questions, just try to figure it out until I can help you.”

  Brax learned how to use the tap and poured a few very foamy beers for Claire’s regulars. They were the two old guys that seemed to live here named McCleary and Stetson. Unfortunately, whenever Brax failed to pour the beer correctly, he also failed to charge them anything for it even though they were drinking.

  Jax and Travis were natural with people. When you were waitering a table, just being friendly is almost enough to get you through. They took orders and sometimes they messed something up, but they were so affable and friendly that it was quickly resolved.

  I decided that my best course of action was to be the bus boy and extra dishwasher, so that’s what I did. It was better. I wasn’t competing for customers with Jax and Travis and I definitely did not want to have to talk to people behind the bar. I’ve heard that bartenders have to listen to people’s problems. I don’t think I could do that.

  Something like another 20 people must’ve come in for a late lunch. Claire was ecstatic at the business, the rest of us were a little overwhelmed as first time bar staff. One of the customers got a little lippy with Brax and he dressed him down.

  “Sir, I don’t care if you want a beer, you have to order like a polite and civilized person,” he lectured. “I am in no mood to be spoken to that way.”

  “Dude, screw you mood! I wanna beer!”

  The customer punctuated that statement by throwing a straw at him. Claire stepped in before Brax could make it worse.

  “Look, some of the customers get a little rowdy during Happy Hour,” she explained.

  “I don’t know how you stand it. Who does he think he is?!” said Brax, outraged.

  “I think he runs some kind of hedge fund or something. Comes in about twice a month. Just serve him and ignore him.”

  “Hedge fund, eh?”

  Brax poured the beer and called him over.

  “I am sorry, sir. Here is your beverage,” said Brax dutifully. “I heard you run a hedge fund, is that correct?”

  “Yeah,” he said dismissively. “Lots of money.”

  “Really? What is the name of that hedge fund?”

  “Uh, DeVille-Hampton,” he explained. “You wouldn’t know.”

  “Actually, I’m quite familiar with that one. Would you be so kind as to look at my driver’s license?”

  The customer was ready to insult Brax again, but when he read his driver’s license, he went pale. He looked back and forth at Brax and the license getting increasingly more panicked.

  “Oh, my God! Oh, my God,” he whispered. “You’re Brax Reber? The Brax Reber?”

  “Y-y-y-you own this bar? Is this s
ome kind of celebrity boss thing? What?” said the customer almost crying.

  Brax grabbed him by the lapels.

  “Listen to me, if you don’t want to see me liquidate my entire portfolio from DeVille-Hampton, you will be quiet and polite and order many, many items off the menu. Do you understand?” Brax quietly threatened.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said anxiously. “It’s not a problem. W-w-we love this place.”

  “Keep loving it and don’t make a scene,” he ordered. “And keep coming here at least three times--- No, five times a week.”

  “Sure! That’s--- Whatever you want, Mr. Reber.”

  “That’s the spirit,” smiled Brax, patting him on the shoulder.

  On the other side of the bar, Jax was getting his own comeuppance. Four of the college girls were fawning all over him. They were only 18, far too young for Jax even when he was in his “ladies man” stage.

  “Uh, ladies, I can’t bring you any booze, but any food items are fine,” he explained.

  “Are they as fine as you?” asked one of the girls giggling. “Because you are very fine.”

  “I, uh, well that’s nice of you, but I am working,” Jax said.

  “Yeah, you’re working it!” said one of the girls.

  “Did you guys start drinking before you came here?” he asked.

  “We can’t drink, remember?” said one.

  “But we came as soon as we saw you!” laughed another.

  Jax grabbed Travis.

  “Trav, you gotta take this table,” he muttered. “These girls are all over me.”

  “That’s karma, bro!” he laughed. “Can’t help ya.”

  Travis went back to another table with two couples. They were getting ready to leave.

  “Did you guys want the check?” he asked.

  “Yeah, would you mind?” asked one of them.

  “Oh, sure. Seems a shame you won’t stay for dessert, but…”

  “What? What’s for desert?”

  “Oh, it’s this special Irish thing, but--- Well, you already have your coats on.”

  “No-no, we’ll stay. Bring us the Iris thing. We’ll have four of those.”

  “Okay!” said Travis excitedly.

  As Travis walked back to the kitchen, he muttered to himself. “Jeez, I hope they serve dessert here. I never did look at the menu.”

  After a couple of hours, we actually became moderately competent wait staff. Even Brax was managing to pour Guinness correctly. It was probably the closest thing he did to manual labor in his life.

  We cleared the back table for the five of us and ordered up a late dinner. Claire had ended the dinner rush only an hour prior. We ordered some more sandwiches as we were really hungry. It was all about helping Claire and creating an excuse to sit and talk with her. I managed to sit next to her when we finally did sit down. I took her hand under the table and she took mine and squeezed.

  It was that squeeze that told me Claire was not going to be an ordinary person in my life. I had kissed other women in the past with less passion than that hand hold had. I knew in that moment that I had to do everything I could to be with her.

  Chapter 11

  Claire

  Well, I guess it was nice to have too much staff for a change, even if they weren’t very well trained. Guess you can’t have too many people working a bar even if they’re not very good at it. Only one dropped plate of food and a couple of glasses for the first night. Not bad. If I actually could afford these guys, I would hire them.

  Dinner was on me. It was the least I could do since I wasn’t paying them. Plus no one got any tips, except Brax, but I think he just counted his money wrong.

  The bonus dinner entree was my own creation, not on the menu. I used to love Chicken Vindaloo, but I’m the only person I know that liked it. I make a mean curry, so let’s see if the boys actually like it or just compliment me to death.

  “Wow, this is good, Claire,” said Travis. “I’ve had this in restaurants it wasn’t this good.”

  “You never had chicken vindaloo in your life,” scoffed Kenner. “What restaurant do you go that serves that one?”

  “Double Knot,” insisted Travis.

  “Double Knot’s Japanese,” reminded Jax. “They don’t make that there.”

  “Okay, fine! You got me, okay? But I liked it! That’s the important thing!” said Travis. “Jeez, bros.”

  “I’ve had chicken vindaloo and this is wonderful,” complimented Brax. “But I imagine not the sort of fare for an Irish pub.”

  “Only if we were in England,” I countered. “They can’t get enough of this there.”

  “I’m actually a pretty good cook myself,” said Kenner.

  “What’s your specialty?” I asked.

  “I make this marinated beef I used to make for--- Someone in the past,” said Kenner correcting himself. “I use it in a stir fry.”

  “I also cook,” announced Brax.

  “What? When?” demanded Jax, very skeptical.

  “Beef Wellington,” said Brax. “Had to learn. So few places really know how to make it.”

  “That’s the meat baked in the loaf of bread, right?” guessed Travis.

  “To you Philistines, yes,” said Brax. “But for the rest of us that enjoy could cuisine beyond a power bar, it’s a cut of mean, wrapped in dough and spices and then baked, so…”

  “So, I was right then?” asked Travis.

  “In the most technical and vulgar way, yes,” Brax reluctantly admitted.

  This seemed to greatly satisfy Travis, who went back to eating his chicken vindaloo.

  “I’m more of a breakfast guy,” said Jax. “I can cook just about any breakfast, but my favorite is French toast.”

  Everyone nodded and made noises in the affirmative. I mean, after all, who doesn’t like a good French Toast? Terrorists probably.

  “I’m not much of a cook,” admitted Travis. “But I do an okay quinoa salad.”

  “Yes, but who would eat it?” added Kenner with some level of disgust. “It’s like eating stuff you found on the floor of the forest.”

  “Hey, you don’t get this body by jamming a bunch a crap inside it, ya know?” lectured Travis. “You should think about that. Healthy body, healthy mind--- You’ll live longer.”

  “If you call that living,” quipped Jax. “I’ll die with my hamburgers, whiskey and cigarettes if you don’t mind.”

  “And that, dear brother, is something we can both agree on,” said Brax, toasting him with his drink.

  “Can I ask you a question about the bar, Claire?” asked Jax.

  “Sure.”

  “It’s weird, but how are you struggling with this place with so many customers?” asked Jax. “I mean, not that I’m implying you’re not running it right, but…”

  “No, I get it,” I assured him. “Honestly, that was an unusual happy hour slam. Normally, I’d be struggling through it with the guys. You okay over there?”

  I called out to McCleary and Stetson and noticed they already had three full beers in front of them.

  “I thought it was best to get them ready for our break,” said Brax. “Thinking ahead.”

  “Not sure if that’s legal or wise,” I said warily. “But whatever. If I could get that many customers in her on a nightly basis, my problems would be over. You think I need to class this joint up?”

  “Well, it would help if you weren’t the only other business on this block other than the bakery. Just looks bad,” said Jax.

  “Yeah, well, sprucing this place up might help, right?” I asked hopefully. “I mean, you guys know business, right?”

  “Well, it’s a bit like asking a lion tamer if he has any tips on training a cat to use the litter box,” said Brax. “I would say the lighting could be brighter. The entire décor is too dark for my tastes.”

  “Got to appeal to a younger crowd,” said Jax. “No offense to your regulars. You gotta get more college kids in here.”

  “Yeah, in the future, you’r
e suppose to card them before you bring them beer,” explained Claire. “I could get in a lot of trouble for what you did.”

  “Believe me, I was in more trouble,” assured Jax. “I just had to stay away from that table.”

  “A young crowd is definitely not classy,” said Brax. “College kids are looking for the cheapest way to get completely soused and have sex. I think you have to go higher than that.”

  “I disagree, bro,” said Travis. “The college kids know what’s trendy and hip. People want to be a part of that as they get older. You want the image that college kids like, but you raise the prices so very few of them can afford it.”

  “And keep the riff-raff out,” said Kenner mocking Brax. “I say, would you like a Guinness for you and your friends?”

  “I do not sound like that,” insisted Brax, mildly annoyed.

  As we were sitting and eating, I was holding Kenner’s hand under the table. He was just such a kind guy. I could see it in his eyes and I wanted to reciprocate without the other guys feeling bad. Travis was on the other side of me, gently stroking my thigh. I gotta say, it was all a bit of a turn on--- The attention, the touching--- Having four guys this into me was weird, but it was a good kind of weird. The kind of weird I could get used to.

  “No,” I thought. “That’s crazy talk. Get that out of your head.”

  “Claire?” said Jax. “You okay?”

  “Sorry, I zoned out,” I lied. “You were saying?”

  “I was saying, maybe you could get a DJ in here and have some kind of dance thing,” suggested Jax. “I know it costs money, but those guys will bring in the ladies and where the ladies are, the guys go.”

  “That’s not a bad idea actually,” I agreed. “Without other tenants next to me, we could be as loud as we want. Who would care?”

  “Plus the bakery should be closed by the time the dancing starts,” added Kenner. “I know DJ. He’s probably too expensive, but I’m sure he knows people in the business. Maybe he could recommend an up and comer with a bit of a following that you could afford to hire.”

  “Who cares about money?” said Brax. “Let me hire someone for you. It’s not a problem for me.”