Page 62 of Rory: His to Discipline

“How about a nice cup of Irish coffee to finish off your night and then I’ll call a couple of cabs, on me of course, to get you all home safe and sound?”

“That sure sounds good,” one of the reindeer agreed. “Bridget, your brother is a nice guy,” a female elf added.

The singing resumed as Patrick poured the tiniest drop of whiskey into each cup and filled the rest with strong black coffee. Topped off with whipped cream, they would never notice the absence of booze.

“I’ll have a beer if you don’t mind, Pat,” Bridget stated with another hiccup.

“I do mind and you’ll have coffee,” he told her, his mouth frozen in a tight smile. Her cup didn’t get any whiskey. Waiting about ten minutes, he called for two cabs and took some money out of the till. They were still singing in drunken harmony when he shuffled them to the door and the waiting vehicles.

“See you tomorrow, Bridget,” a couple of them called.

“Next year,” she yelled back merrily, taking a break from her song. “I have tomorrow off, remember?”

Walking back inside, Patrick approached his sister wishing by all that was holy that she would grow up and settle down before she gave him prematurely gray hair or a heart attack. Picking her up by her waist he sat her down hard on the end of the bar and walked around behind it, holding firmly to the wide black belt around her tiny waist. Other than a quick ouch, she went on belting out songs as if her behavior was perfectly normal and acceptable. He thought about locking her in his office, but if she puked on his desk, he’d have to kill her.

The storeroom was too cold to keep her there for any length of time and if he put her in the kitchen she could sneak out the back door. Finally, he put a hand on each side of her ass, sliding her down the bar until he could reach the phone. Waking Nick and Maggie wasn’t exactly a plan, but it was the best idea he could come up with right now.

“Hello.”

“Nick, it’s Pat, did I wake you?”

“No, I was just heading upstairs. What’s up; is anything wrong?” Nick asked concerned.

“Nothing more than normal,” Patrick sighed. “Listen, do you happen to have Del’s number? I need a favor.”

“Ah, I wondered if that was Bridge in the background. She sounds drunk.”

“She is,” Patrick replied with a grimace.

“Want me to come get her and take her home?” Nick offered.

“No, I was hoping I could get Del to come and get her. It might be a good experience for him if he’s going to continue seeing her. Maybe this could work in our favor,” Pat continued, “but at least he will really see what he’s getting himself into.”

“True,” Nick agreed with a laugh, “but it might scare him off for good you know.”

“There’s not much else we can do. I think Bridget really cares for him and if seeing this doesn’t run him off, nothing will,” Pat chuckled. “If it wasn’t against what Da wants, I’d have her in the backroom right now tanning her hide.”

“I hear you there, Pat, give me a second and I’ll get that number.”

Nick got the number and while Patrick was trying to dial it, Bridget reached behind the bar and plucked a bottle of liquor out of the tray. He managed to snatch it away at the last second and she pouted, giving him a dirty look before she forgot her pique and resumed singing merrily. He had to say, Bridget was a happy drunk.

“Hello,” Del answered seeing the pub come up on his caller ID. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, Del, it’s Patrick. Sorry to bother you so late,” he apologized. “I have a little problem down here at the pub and I was hoping you could help me out?”

“Would that problem be a little girl about five feet tall with blonde hair?” Del asked sighing.

“How did you guess?”

“I can hear her singing. Is she drunk?”

“Shit-faced,” Pat answered. “The problem is I’m here alone. Molly went home early and I have no one to watch the bar while I take the little brat home. The roads are lousy and I don’t want to call Da and make him come out in this weather. I was wondering if I could get you to take her off my hands.”

Del had switched to speaker phone and was already pulling on his pants. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes, Patrick. Don’t let her leave. I’d hate to have to chase her down.”

“Believe me, Del, she’s not going anywhere,” Patrick assured him, giving Bridget a nasty grin.

“Patrick, how did she get there?” Del asked, curious why she was alone.