“Tequila?” I asked.
“Bourbon.”
I shrugged, then took a pull and handed it back to him.
Jess gave him a little shove. “You didn’t even ask me if I wanted some.”
“You don’t like bourbon, babe,” he said.
“But you could have at least asked,” she said with a pout.
I glanced at Sofia, who was smiling at the pair. I felt a little bad that she couldn’t drink because she was breastfeeding, but she told me it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone tried to get her to “pump and dump,” but she hadn’t wanted to.
After she filled me in on exactly what the hell pump and dump even meant, I didn’t argue. My angel knew what was best for her and the baby, and it was my job to support her decision. If she wanted to down tequila shots tonight, I’d happily go grab her a bottle. If she wanted to drink iced tea all evening long, then I’d refill her glass. Whatever she wanted, I was going to do it.
Done with the photographer, Frank and Claudia walked through the door, and we all moved to congratulate them at once, hugging, high-fiving, and doling out compliments.
“You ready to get out of here or what?” Claudia asked, her hand firmly grasped in Frank’s.
“Hell yes,” I answered for everyone.
“Let’s go party!” She did a little shimmy move with her hips.
I gave Frank a look that told him he was in for some trouble, the best kind, and he gave me a nod that told me he knew.
The drive to the reception hall took less than five minutes. Once we all arrived and climbed out of the cars, we stood there in a haphazard group, waiting for directions from the photographer, who was still figuring out where exactly to start shooting first.
“You look so fucking beautiful, angel.” I kissed Sofia’s cheek as my mom joined us with baby Hope in her arms and Matson at her side.
“Thank you.” Sofia gave me a sweet smile as she reached for Hope. “I should go feed her. Think I have time?”
“They can take other pictures while you do that. I’m sure it’s fine.” I gave her a quick kiss on the mouth and smacked her ass. “Go!”
Matson laughed, and I wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“Thanks for watching them, Mom.”
“Of course, honey. They’re perfect.” She mussed Matson’s hair, and he smiled up at her. This was what happiness looked and felt like; I was sure of it.
After the most ridiculous number of pictures known to man had been taken, we finally headed into the reception hall. Claudia’s Colombian touches were downright adorable. Each place card sat positioned inside a tray filled with coffee beans. It smelled amazing. And at each table were tiny satchels of Colombian coffee for guests to take home.
I kept picking mine up and sniffing at it. Matson mimicked me once and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Ick,” he said, tossing it onto the table.
I laughed. “One day you’ll love it.”
“Probably not.”
The waitstaff wandered throughout the hall, filling everyone’s glasses with champagne. When a gentleman I didn’t know handed me a microphone, I knew it was time. With one look at Nick, I stood up from my chair at the head table and tapped the top of the microphone to get the room’s attention.
“Hi, everyone. Not sure who this Farnk guy is,” I said, holding up one of the notecards from earlier, and the guests roared with laughter. Well, everyone except Frank laughed. I assumed he was plotting my death, based on the dark look he gave me.
“Sorry. That was the last time,” I promised, giving him a shrug. “Like I was saying, I’m Frank’s more charming, better-looking, younger brother Ryan.”
Nick coughed and punched at his chest while the crowd laughed.
“And that’s Nick.” I hooked a thumb toward him. “He’s less charming, but probably still better looking.”
The crowd continued to laugh while Frank pretended to glare at me, shaking his head.
“Nick and I wrote this together because we knew we’d both say pretty much the same thing, but would spend the whole time trying to outdo each other. Instead of embarrassing Frank in front of everyone here today, we decided to combine our speeches and I’d deliver it. More charming, see?”
I made eye contact around the room and stopped on Claudia. “We’re not sure what our brother was doing before he found you, Claudia, but it sure wasn’t living. He hit the lottery the night you walked into our bar, and we all knew it. We saw the way he looked at you. And the way you looked back, if I’m being honest. If eye contact could start a fire, you two would have set the block ablaze, not just the bar. The whole damn block.”
Overcome with emotion, I sucked in a breath. “You saved him, you know. You brought the light back into his life, and we can never thank you enough for that. We can’t imagine him with anyone else. You are our brother’s perfect person. We’re so grateful for you. And we’re so excited to finally have a sister. Welcome to the Fisher family. We couldn’t love you more.”
I raised my glass of champagne, locking eyes with my brother and his new wife, who was wiping fresh tears away with a napkin. “To Frank and Claudia,” I said, and everyone repeated the words as they toasted their neighbors and then took a sip.
As if on cue, the volume in the room immediately rose, with everyone speaking excitedly to each other. An army of waitstaff appeared, delivering the first course to each table at once.
“I need something stronger than this.” I put down the champagne flute and looked at Sofia. “Do you want anything from the bar?” I knew she’d say no, but I wanted to ask anyway.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“See, Nick?” Jess said, and I stifled a laugh, knowing what was coming. “Ryan knew Sof was gonna say no, but he asked her anyway.”
“What can I say? I’m sorry I’m a shitty boyfriend,” he said, pushing out his bottom lip in a pretend pout.
Jess reached for his cheeks and squeezed them with both hands. “You’re not a shitty boyfriend.” She kissed his face. “I love you. Just be more courteous sometimes, please?” she asked sweetly, and he grinned at her.
“I will, babe. Promise.” Nick leaned over and kissed her hard.
“You coming?” I asked him.
He raised a glass half-filled with amber liquid in my direction, indicating that he was good.
Making my way toward the back bar, I stopped and shook hands with people I barely knew and accepted their compliments on my speech. I was thankful that most of the guests were busy eating, so the bar wasn’t crowded. After ordering a drink, I dropped a tip in the jar and gave the bartender a nod when he sat my drink in front of me.
I noticed Grant making his way toward me, and so I stayed put, sipping my so-so drink. They’re never as good as I make them.
He stopped in front of me, one hand in his jacket pocket. “Nice speech.”
“Is that a compliment from you?”
“Eh.” He shrugged. “I could have done better.”
I laughed. “Not sure why you’re always trying to compete with me.”
“It’s not competing when you always win,” he bit back, and I rolled my eyes. “What, no snappy comeback? You’re losing your touch.”
For a second, I considered telling Grant about our problem with the bar. It certainly wasn’t the right time, but a part of me longed to tell him. What if he could help somehow? I knew Frank would kill me if I spilled our dirty little secret on his wedding day, so I kept the information to myself.
“I’m not losing anything, old man. You’ve got your own angel now, right? Looks like we both win.” I gave him a wink and gestured toward Mariana, who stood chatting with my mom.
“Is that your way of asking me a question, boy?” he said after he ordered two beers.
Everyone knew Grant and Mariana had been inseparable since they’d met, but nobody ever said anything to their faces. Instead, we all commented on it and tried to figure out their situation behind their backs.
“Fine. Are you two da
ting? Together? What is it that old people do?”
He cast me a look I couldn’t quite read as he took a long swig of his beer. “I’ll only say this once, so listen up. My wife was the love of my life. The love of my life,” he repeated. “And I know that she wouldn’t want me to get remarried. She was a jealous old bat, and she’d turn over in her grave if I even thought about it. But she would have wanted me to be happy and have good company. That’s what I’ve found with Mariana, and I believe that’s what she’s found with me. It’s better than being alone, I’ll tell you that much.”
“How do you even get her to want to spend time with you? Are you actually nice to her?” I teased, knowing I was poking the bear.
Grant harrumphed. “I’m charming, and you know it. It’s why you look up to me. One day, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from the master.”
I pretended to choke on my drink. “The master? The second you start teaching classes, I’ll be the first to sign up.”
“You’d be wise to,” he said as he walked away, a beer in each hand.
The old man was crazy, but he was right. I did sort of look up to him, and he knew it.
Elephant in the Room
Ryan
After I’d poured three beers and made five cocktails, the bar patrons seemed content.
Frank worked beside me, finishing making drinks for a couple of girls. He hadn’t spent more than five minutes in the office these past few weeks. He’d been on the floor, making drinks, closing tabs, and helping out like he did when we first took over the business.
Nick wiped his hands on a towel as he made his way to the end of the bar, away from customers and prying ears. Frank and I followed his lead, knowing we needed to talk about the elephant in the room.
Personally, I was glad that Frank’s wedding was over. It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy for my brother, but we needed to focus on the bar situation, and the wedding had been a distraction. A great distraction, of course, but a distraction nonetheless.
Frank twisted the wedding ring on his finger, and I wondered if I’d ever get used to seeing it there.
“Does it bug you?” I asked.
He glanced down at his left hand. “Nah, I’m just not used to anything on my finger. And it’s heavy.”
“I bet it wouldn’t be too heavy for Farnk.”
I grinned at him, unable to help myself. The mistake with his name was way too fucking golden to let go and never bring up again. So far, he hadn’t noticed the one welcome card that I’d tacked up on the wall of the office. Or maybe he had? I hadn’t been in there yet today.
“Joke’s old,” he said, trying to sound threatening, but I wasn’t biting.
“It just started,” I said. “It can’t be old already.”
“Are you two done?” Nick asked, and we both shot him a murderous glare. “We have shit to talk about.”
“You’re right,” I said, putting on my serious face.
Nick glanced at Frank. “I’m really glad you’re not on your honeymoon right now.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. I’d given Frank so much shit over it initially, telling him it was tradition to leave right away. But now, I thanked God that Claudia’s family decided to stay in town longer and extend their vacation, so Frank and Claudia had delayed their honeymoon.
“I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy myself, and Claudia would have killed me for ruining our honeymoon.” Frank ran a hand through his dark hair. “She still doesn’t know this is even going on.”
“Jess doesn’t either.”
I shook my head. “I haven’t said a word to Sofia.”
The door opened, and three women walked in wearing too-white smiles that widened when they caught sight of the three of us in the corner. They looked almost identical with their bleached-blond hair, unnatural tans, and matching outfits.
The triplets made their way toward us, despite my silent pleas begging them to stay away. My brothers and I still needed to talk, and unless we went into the office, we couldn’t have any privacy. And there was no way we were leaving the bar unattended.
The women sat down and grabbed three menus from the bar top, perusing them.
“I’ll be with you ladies in a minute.” I gave them a smile and they all nodded so fast, I thought their heads might fall off their shoulders.
I turned toward Frank and Nick again, tightening our huddle and keeping our voices low. “We need to figure out what the hell is going on with that deed. Still no word from the courthouse on any updated ownership?” I looked at Frank, and he shook his head.
“No, but our lawyer says that we can slow down the takeover with a bunch of legalities, considering we truly thought we were purchasing the land and we’ve been paying taxes on it. But that’s all it most likely would be. A stall to buy us more time.”
“More time would be good,” Nick said, his voice hopeful. “I don’t understand how we don’t have any rights if Sam thought he sold us the land, we had a land deed authorized, and we’ve been paying taxes on it. How do we not have a case?”
I nodded. “He makes a good point.”
“There’s a chance we could fight this, but it might ending up taking a really long time. We’d probably have to close the bar while we were in litigation, and winning isn’t a guarantee,” Frank said, sounding defeated.
“More time would be good,” I said. “But I guess not if the bar had to be closed.”
“And if we’re probably going to lose out in the end, what difference does more time make?” Frank held up a hand as both Nick and I opened our mouths to argue the point. “I’m just being realistic. It’s going to buy us more time to do what? If we have to leave Sam’s and open a new bar somewhere, we’re going to have to do that anyway. Why wait? Why waste any more time than we have to?”
My annoyance dwindled immediately. Frank made a fair point. I had no idea what the right thing to do was. “What did the sale paperwork say exactly?”
“It says we own the bar and the back lot in part one of two sales. Part two was the land purchase. It states that the deed filed is not the original, even though it’s been notarized. It wasn’t uncommon for paperwork to go missing from that time period. We did everything by the book, but it doesn’t matter, not if there’s an original signed deed out there.”
“We’re going to actually read this thing, right? I mean, that guy wouldn’t even let me touch it. What if it’s not real?”
“Fuck yes, we’re reading it.” Frank gave me an exasperated look. “We’re not walking away from our business without solid proof.”
I raised my hands in the air in surrender. “Just making sure.”
“Come on, Ryan. We’re not just taking some asshole’s word for it and handing over the keys.”
“I’m just saying . . . I know we’ve all talked about stepping away from the bar more—”
Nick interrupted me. “We just said that we wanted to stop working every night shift, not lose the bar altogether.”
He was right. I was being emotional. The three of us had talked at length about our futures, what we wanted going forward, and what that meant realistically for the business. We all wanted our own families and lives outside of work, but we also wanted to keep the bar.
“And we’ve already started to do that,” Frank said. “We’re here in the days mostly now, and we hired Max to manage the night shifts. It’s been great.”
“Plus, there’s that second location we’ve always talked about opening,” I said, feeling that prickle of excitement whenever we talked about growing the business.
It was something we talked about all the time in the beginning, but our vision changed as our success grew and we met the girls. None of us wanted to have to physically be at each location we opened for it to succeed. At this point, we figured that our name alone would make the business a success, but even that assumption came with risks.
“Let’s worry about this location first before we even contemplate another,” Frank said, bringing me back to r
eality.
“Excuse me.” The woman’s voice cut through our pow-wow, and we all turned at the same time. “We know what we want.” She placed the menus down and pushed them away.
I pasted on a smile and approached the smiling group. “Are you sisters?”
They giggled. “No, but we get that a lot.”
“You look a lot alike,” I said, somewhat fascinated by their almost identical features.
“We have the same plastic surgeon,” Triplet Number Two said, and I stopped myself from asking any more questions I truly didn’t care about the answers to.
“All right. Well, what can I get you ladies?”
“Can we get three Happy Endings?”
I couldn’t help but smile at their drink choice. It was my newest creation, and I knew they’d love it. Everyone who had tried it so far couldn’t stop at one.
Triplet Number Three spoke for the first time since they’d come in. “Is it really purple? I mean, it says purple gin on the menu, but is the gin purple or is that just the name?”
“It’s really purple. You’ll love it.” I gave them a wink and turned to grab the ingredients.
After mixing purple gin with fresh-squeezed lime juice and soda, I swirled each glass and then garnished it with a small flower. When I handed them their drinks, they all oohed and aahed at how pretty they were, and then pulled out their phones to take pictures to post on social media.
The cell phone shit used to annoy me, but Nick changed my way of thinking. Encouraging posts on social media that tagged our bar was good for business, helping to get the word out whenever we created something new. It was free publicity, easy and effortless.
I stood in front of the girls until they tried their drinks, wanting to see their reactions. After they sipped, their eyes met mine.
“Good?” I asked, even though I knew how good the cocktail was.
“It’s delicious.” Triplet Number Three hummed her appreciation and took another sip.
“So light and refreshing,” Triplet Number One added.
“I didn’t even know I liked gin,” Number Three said, and I laughed. I’d heard that more than a handful of times since I started making this particular drink.