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Now that my father is out of the picture and the company is just mine and my brothers’, I don’t want to blow it. A lot of people are counting on my demise. They think it’s totally inevitable that I end up running Dad’s company into the ground, but I basically refuse to do that. I’m stubborn when I want to be, so it’s safe to say that I won’t be destroying his company even if people expect me to.
And they do.
No one thinks much of Phoenix and Oscar. My brothers stay out of the limelight as much as possible. Oscar, the younger son who wanted so desperately to please my dad, isn’t going to rock the boat. Then there’s Phoenix, the oldest. He’s the one who always told my dad to go to hell. The two of them butted heads more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life. Now that Dad is gone, sometimes it feels like Phoenix is, too.
Damien shakes his head. “I’m going to need a drink.” He raises his hand. The bartender spots us immediately and scurries over. The two of us are sitting at the counter in Olives. This is basically the biggest dive bar out of any dive bar I’ve ever seen. It’s not classy. It’s trashy, but we both love the place. It’s located about six blocks from our office, so the two of us ditch our jackets at the office and make the stroll down here at least one evening a week. We don’t have to worry about ever seeing anyone from work over here.
No one professional ever comes here.
“What’ll it be?” The bartender is a lady named Jack. I like that. Girls who have boy names are cool. She’s got long blonde hair that’s streaked with purple and blue. Again, very cool. Her girlfriend works here, too, and the two of them spend most of their free time doing things like jogging with their dogs and hiking the many trails that surround Siren City. We’re lucky enough to live in a place that is bordered by both the mountains and the ocean. Jack grins, leaning against the counter. “Let me guess? Rum and diet. Rum and Sprite.”
“Rum and diet.” Damien always orders the same thing his first round. He has this go-to order so that he can get a drink in him while he decides what he really wants. It’s a stupid method of drinking, but it’s his favorite thing to do.
Me?
I need time.
I like to savor.
When I go to a bar, I want to consider all of my options before I make a decision. It’s my goal to make sure that I choose the perfect drink the first time so I don’t waste my time or money drinking something I don’t like in the first place.
“And you?” Jack looks at me with a smirk. She wants to fuck me. I’m quite sure of it. Every time we come in here, Jack flirts and bats her eyes at me. Damien doesn’t see it, but I do. Jack and her girlfriend are in an open relationship, and I’m pretty sure that all I’d have to do is look slightly available. Then she’d take me for all I’m worth.
I’d sleep with her, too. If she wasn’t my bartender at my favorite bar, I’d pin her against the wall and take my time with her.
But I am at my favorite bar.
And I do want to come back.
“Just get the rum and Sprite,” Damien says to me, but I’m not going to make it that easy.
“I’ll need a minute, please.”
She smiles. She knows I like to consider all of my options. The moment she turns her back, Damien glares at me.
“You need to just come up with at least one drink you can enjoy,” he tells me.
“Why?”
“Because all the money in the world isn’t going to help if you’re so indecisive you can’t figure out how to use it.”
“I’m not indecisive about my money.”
“No?”
“Just about the little things that don’t really matter. Also,” I tell him, glancing at the selection of rum behind the bar, “I’m not being indecisive. I’m being selective.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Jack comes back a moment later.
“Want to start a tab?” She doesn’t really need to ask anymore. We come here often enough that she knows we aren’t going to dine and dash. She also knows that Damien and I always pay in cash when we come. He drops a twenty on the counter. It’s more than enough to cover his first two drinks plus a generous tip.
This place is cheap.
Jack takes the money and makes change. Before she turns around, Damien tells her to keep it. She thanks him, and then it’s my turn. I end up ordering something random: a cocktail I’ve never heard of. It’s scribbled on the mirror above the bar as the week’s special, so I’m going to give it a chance. It sounds fruity.
“I’ll take a strawberry sunshine special,” I tell her.
