Four Billionaires for St. Patrick's Day Read online

  She laughed.

  “I’m afraid I’m on the clock, but thanks,” she replied.

  “Your boss must be a total hardass,” I said. “C’mon, you must get a break now and then.”

  “Actually,” she laughed. “I’m the boss around here. I own the Bad Penny. It was my dad’s. It’s been in my family for three generations.”

  “Well, perfect!” I said. “You can definitely give yourself time off to dance.”

  “I wish I could, Jax,” she smiled. “But I’m the only waitress on duty tonight, so unless I can wait tables, mix drinks and clean up while we dance, it ain’t happening. But it’s nice of you to ask.”

  She blinked her eyes at me as she said that. I knew she thought I was hot. But then she walked away and said, “Thank you, but no,” with a feisty sashay in her curvy hips that made me want her even more.

  Chapter 3

  Brax

  And with that, Claire walked away. Not too many women walked away from my brother without at least swooning, giving him her number or panties even. It was a rare treat to watch him crash and burn. I think it broke his brain.

  “Is my hair okay?” he asked after she left the table. “If my hair was fucked up, you guys would tell me, right?”

  “It’s not your hair. It’s that that chick’s into me,” insisted Travis. “She saw these guns and her heart is held hostage by them!”

  “That was actually pretty good,” said Kenner. “Not true, but very funny.”

  “Gentlemen,” I said interrupting. “Are we honestly going to fight over a woman? You know I’m sitting here, right?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Jax.

  “Well, I thought it would be obvious, even to you, brother,” I said as condescendingly as possible. “I impressed her with my drink order; these two aren’t any competition and you’re out of the race. Who else is left with inevitable charm and grace?”

  “Hey!” objected Kenner. “You’re cutting me out already? I’ve got charm and grace.”

  “In your own way, Kenner, of course,” I admitted. “She needs a hunter. An alpha male who will take her away from this… coal mine of a bar.”

  “Oh, that’s it,” encouraged Jax. “Insult her bar. I’m sure her three previous generations of family will like that.”

  “You must be smitten with this one, Jax,” I said.

  “Why? Why do you say that?”

  “You asked her to dance and there really isn’t much in the way of music in here. Although there is a jukebox. Excuse me.”

  I got up and went to the Jukebox. The biggest bill it would take was twenty dollars, so I put in a couple of those. I chose some good music. Most of it, alternative rock, nothing much to dance to really.

  Then, at the end of my choices, I threw in a few dance-y tunes. Who knows? Maybe one of us would get a shot at this, but after all the songs I’d chosen before it, that kind of music was probably at least an hour away from being played.

  I went back to the table. Claire was bringing the drinks.

  “Ah, just in time,” I said. “You like my music choices?”

  “Gin Blossoms? They’re okay,” she said. “Quite frankly, I’ve heard just about every song in that thing a million times.”

  “It says there are over 10,000 songs in there,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, like I said,” she laughed.

  “Well, thank you for being so prompt with our drink order,” I said as charmingly as possible, deliberately touching her hand.

  She blushed a bit. I think I may have gotten an “in” with her, so to speak. I topped it off by slipping her my card. I don’t think the guys even saw me do it. She smiled and walked away. I sat back down.

  “Your card? Seriously?” said Jax. “That’s how you make contact with a lady?”

  Well, fuck. I guess they’d noticed.

  “It’s how I make contact with everyone,” I defended. “If I could’ve gotten to a printer in time, I’m sure I would’ve handed you one right out of the womb.”

  “Thanks, Stewie from Family Guy,” teased Jax, a little annoyed.

  I didn’t know about this bar, but torturing my brother over the affections of a woman was damned fun! I’d sit in a sewage refining plant if I had to, to watch him squirm. Not that I dislike my brother, of course; it’s just good brotherly fun.

  As the night wore on, I realized that ordering a bottle was probably the wrong move. Claire returned to refill the drinks of the other guys, while I couldn’t drink the entire bottle of whiskey alone. Cleverly, I began to offer shots to the other customers. Two older gentlemen who were absolutely glued to the bar took me up on my offer several times.

  With my bottle gone, I chose to challenge her as a bartender. She refused my Mohito order, not that I blame her. Probably couldn’t get fresh mint in a place like this anyway. Her margarita was a sad affair, but her Manhattan was spot on. The Martini, adequate, if a little bland and the Cosmopolitan was good. The last drink, I had to spill sadly— I was getting far too drunk to be able to properly woo her.

  Fortunately, the others were getting just as drunk. This usually meant Jax would leave with whatever woman in the room had the lowest standards, Kenner would end up talking to someone endlessly and Travis would probably get into a fight. It was times like these that I was glad I was rich enough to have a limo sitting outside whatever establishment I was drinking in. It was nice to know I could leave at any time and not have to worry about driving drunk.

  “You guys really know how to pack it away,” Claire said. “That’s no small compliment in this place. Those two guys at the bar are my regulars and they’ve been here all day.”

  “Well, we’re having a good time at your bar,” assured Jax. “I brought these guys here, by the way. My idea.”

  “Thank you,” she smiled. “Just for that, your next drink is on the house.”

  Jax smiled, satisfied in that small victory.

  “Your Guinness is just the right temperature,” said Kenner. “Nothing better or more complex for the pallet.”

  “Aye, I think the Irish men who come in here couldn’t help but agree,” added Claire.

  “Aye. I like how you say that,” added Travis as a non-sequitur.

  “Well…thanks,” said Claire, seeming mildly uncomfortable. “Can I get you guys some solid food? I think I have a few bowls of pretzels.”

  “Yes, that sounds delightful,” I said, a little too fast.

  I was too drunk for this. We all were, I think. She was paying attention to us equally, however, which was fascinating because I think she was genuinely attracted to us all. Could it just be that she was flirting with all of us to get the best tip? She didn’t seem like that kind of person.

  Or maybe I’m just drunk.

  Chapter 4

  Kenner

  I was getting pretty hammered trying to keep Claire coming back to the table, but it was worth it. She was hot! Slowly, as the night progressed, we tried to monopolize her time.

  The other customers were cutting out. They had to get up in the morning to go to regular jobs, as they were your typical middle management types. Not us. We were the bosses in our company! If we wanted to sleep in and nurse a hangover, then roll in at noon? So be it!

  “For new customers, you guys seem to like my bar a lot,” noted Claire.

  “I thought we established…” Jax started to say. Then he stopped himself and said, “Sorry for being sarcastic. It’s something bad I picked up back in the service.”

  “I’m sorry, I forgot, you’re the veteran,” she acknowledged. “That’s why I gave you a free drink.”

  “That’s just what I need,” said Jax, pretty drunk.

  The two old guys got up from the bar, unsteady. They were leaving.

  “G’night Claire!” they slurred on their way out.

  “Good night, boys!” she called after them. “Wow, you guys outlasted McCleary and Stetson. Do you guys have livers?”

  “Yes, let me assure you,”
said Brax unsteadily. “Our livers are top notch organs. The best money could buy.”

  “You’ve had your liver replaced?” Claire asked skeptically.

  “Several times,” Brax assured her. “Cost a fortune, but if it allows me to get this drunk on a daily basis, it’s more than worth it.”

  “Hey, now that everyone’s gone, you can dance,” I pointed out. “Dance with me.”

  “I’m really kind of tired,” said Claire, smiling. “Although I do like to dance.”

  “Prove it,” I taunted. “C’mon, one dance.”

  Claire smiled despite herself. Jax got up and walked over to the front door and flipped the sign to “Closed”.

  “See? You’re closed. No one’s coming in now,” he insisted. “Wait a minute. I asked her to dance first, didn’t I?”

  Brax played the music. It was a slow dance number. I put out my hand and Claire took it.

  “Okay,” she relented. “I guess I have time for one dance.”

  Holding her was something magical as we danced. We laughed as we moved. It was so natural. Like we were in sync. Like I was in sync with Sasha. I was thinking that, but not saying it. I couldn’t keep telling the story of how my ex died. I had to move on with my life and for the first time, I really thought it about. Maybe I could move on with Claire. I could almost see it in the future.

  “You’re a good dancer, Kenner,” she smiled. “Very light on your feet.”

  “You remembered my name,” I noted.

  “I remember all my good customer’s names,” she said. “You don’t forget the name of someone that spends the kind of money you guys did tonight.”

  “Oh,” I said a little disappointed. “I was sort of hoping we could be more than just customers.”

  “You guys are all very nice and I’m flattered, but spoken for,” she said. “I’m married to the bar.”

  “Can the bar do this?” I asked, dipping her, bringing her back up and then spinning her.

  “No,” she laughed. “It’s just that the bar business is a little tough right now.”

  “I’m friends with one of the producers on Bar Rescue,” I bragged. “Maybe I could put in a good word?”

  “John Tapper screaming at me for not cleaning up is not my idea of fun,” she said. “No, I can run a bar; it’s just that customers have been a little sparse. I’m going to make up for it on Saint Paddy’s Day, though.”

  “There’s where all the money is, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said confidently. “It is to drinking what the Super Bowl is to football. There will be many-a-drunk here that night. That’s why we spruced the place up. You like the decorations?”

  “Yes,” I joked. “You spent two dollars on them, why wouldn’t I?”

  “Green tissue paper is a very ‘in’ look this year, I can assure you,” she bantered back. “Although that’s what I get for recruiting customers to buy them.”

  “Yeah, I mean how did they spell Irish wrong on the ‘Kiss Me, I’m Irise’ banner? ‘Irise?’ What is that even supposed to mean?”

  “Did they?” she said, looking up at the banner in a worried manner.

  “Nah, I’m just kidding,” I laughed. “I mean, that would be pretty bad, right?”

  “Yeah, well, with those regular two customers of mine buying the decorations, who knows? I’m just glad it says Irish and not something like French or Asian or Polynesian! They could have messed up the whole holiday by confusing the nation.”

  Before I knew it, we were dancing a second song. Neither one of us noticed the music change. She was enchanting, hypnotizing and gorgeous. I had to win this girl. There was something about her. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I wanted to put my fingers all over her for sure.

  “Seriously, I really dig you,” I admitted.

  “You’re nice, Kenner, but I barely know you,” she smiled.

  I leaned in close.

  “I want to get to know you.”

  “Oh, yeah. What do you want to know?” she giggled.

  “Everything.”

  “Well, maybe you won’t like everything.”

  “Impossible. I already like everything about you.”

  “Well, I’m full of surprises. At least, that’s what my four brothers say.”

  “Four brothers? Wow. That’s a lot of brothers.”

  “Irish Catholics,” she said in way of explanation. “So if it’s anybody’s fault, it’s the Pope. No condoms.”

  “Well, you know, you have to listen to the Pope,” I joked.

  She laughed. It was an intimate moment. Light and fun, but I went too far.

  “I want you, Claire.”

  She stopped and backed away gently.

  “Too fast, cowboy,” she informed me.

  She stepped away, but I could see a little bit of regret in her eyes. I had crossed a line, but it hadn’t completely ruined my game. She was just putting up a good fight. Giving me a nice chase.

  Travis cut in and asked her to dance before I could do a follow up. I sat down and watched. If anything was going to help my position, it would be Travis and his gym-monkey antics. At least I could count on him to eliminate himself from the running.

  Chapter 5

  Travis

  “Hey, ‘sup?” I began, nonchalant.

  Didn’t want to come on strong. Worst thing you could do with a girl. Can’t look needy in front of her.

  “Jeez, you are really packed in this suit,” said Claire, noticing my muscles. “I think if you flexed, you could probably rip out of it like the Hulk.”

  “Wanna seem me try? I mean, do it. I could totally do it.”

  “No, no. It’s a nice a suit, looks good on you,” she said. “But you have to loosen up. Makes you tense up on the dense floor, I think.”

  Aw, no way! Did she burn me? No, she’s too sweet. I think she was just trying to be helpful. Better fucking put on the moves.

  “You think I need to loosen up, huh? Check this out!”

  I backed away and did a handstand and danced to the music. No way anyone in the rest of the crew could do that. Claire laughed and clapped. I flipped back to my feet like it was nothing because when you’re this strong, it really is nothing.

  “That was crazy!” she laughed. “Now your hands have been all over my dirty floor!”

  And I want them all over your dirty body, I thought, but even I knew better than to voice my comment. I danced over to Brax, who had a little bit left in his shot glass. I poured the remaining whiskey on my hands, washed them and wiped them off with a napkin. Then I slid back into dance position just as the chord changed. Damn, I’m smooth.

  “See that? I sterilized them.”

  “Nice, Whiskey Hands,” she laughed. “There was probably just as much whiskey on the floor of this place.”

  “So, you’ve had this bar for three generations, huh? When did your great-grandfather open the place?” I asked.

  “He opened it with my great-grandmother in 1918,” She explained. “They had eleven children.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot of bar staff,” I commented. “You gotta have some kids to fill this place up.”

  “The bar business isn’t what it used to be,” she laughed. “So many rules and regulations. Back then, if you could manage to get beer in a glass, you were running a bar.”

  “Back in college, I wrote a paper on how organized crime impacted business before and after Prohibition,” I explained. “Any insight on how your great-grandparents saved the bar during that time?”

  “Wow, I’m impressed, Travis,” said Claire. “You kind of struck me as strictly a musclehead, but you’ve got some brains.”

  “People often underestimate me in that area,” I said. “Especially the guys in the crew here. But I genuinely would be interested to know about your family’s experience, if that’s not too nosy or weird of a question.”

  “Well, back then, my great grandmother was also known for her bangers and mash,” explained Claire. “So, she would serve them up and
somehow people would get beers with their food.”

  “So, it was a speakeasy disguised as a restaurant?”

  “Yeah, kinda,” she explained. “If the cops came in, the customers would just dump their beer into their bangers and mash and mix it around. That wasn’t really a problem since half the customers were cops. Ya know. Irish.”

  The music changed. It was a slow song, so I brought Claire in close. She smelled amazing and looked even better close up.

  “Oh,” she said, a little surprised. “You are very, uh, hard— I mean, the muscles! Your muscles! Oh, God.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed,” I joked. “You wouldn’t be the first woman to swoon at my amazing pecs. If I had my shirt off, I could make them dance.”

  “Please don’t,” she laughed. “I get enough bathroom selfies from the dating websites I’m on.”

  “You’re on a dating website?”

  “Pathetic, right? And I never have time to do anything but browse it. Bar owners work when other people go out on dates.”

  “Well, I just thought that since you’re so hot, you’d have offers falling into your lap every day.”

  “I guess I would if I wasn’t working every waking moment here,” she said, sounding a little disappointed. “But it’s a labor of love.”

  “Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life. Isn’t that what they say?”

  “Yeah, but they fail to mention that you won’t get a day off in that scenario.”

  “Well, I have great respect for a good work ethic,” I said. “I worked very hard to get where I am, so believe me, I know where you’re coming from.”

  “I’m not just saying it, I believe it,” I insisted. “If you can imagine it, then you can make it happen. All it takes is hard work and determination.”

  “And a little money…”

  “Money helps, but— Believe me— I’ve met plenty of guys at my level, born rich like the rest of this crew— They could barely get it together to make a meeting, much less make a deal. Work ethic is important and if you don’t instill it early in a kid, forget it.”