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“You two fuckwits want a job so I might just have one. There’s a bar come up for sale just outside the town limits. It has a bad name for drugs and fighting. You two numbskulls can go over to the realtor, get the keys and have a good look around the place. If you think it’s worth our time to take it on and turn it into a legit business, you’ll be manager and bar manager respectively, running the place. Now, fuck off. Wait. Take Pens or Bank with you. They know which realtor it is and I don’t entirely trust you two numbnuts.”
Grabbing Pens, we exit the clubhouse like our asses are on fire. We explain to Pens on the way to the realtor’s office what’s happened and how we got involved. Well, I explain, Mateo complains.
Looking around inside the bar building doesn’t take long. The place needs gutting and renovating to a better standard. The structure itself looks solid and workable, but the place stinks and everywhere you look you see evidence of drug use. How the local police haven’t shut it down before now is a wonder. One that I don’t want to think too deep about, either.
We all agree that it could be turned into a money spinner, but we’d need some serious security for the first few months until everybody realized that it had become a place for fun and relaxation, not continuing as a recreational drug center.
Reporting back to Pres, who’s still busy with the pile of paperwork that was on his desk earlier, he listens to Pens while watching Mateo and me closely.
“You two fuckwits think you’re up to the task? Speak now or forever hold your piece. That’s what they say isn’t it, Fury?”
“Yes, and yes, Pres. We are definitely up for it.” I look at Mateo and hope he’s willing to go into this with me. I think we’ll make an awesome team.
“Yes, Pres. I’m in.” Mateo gives him a chin lift, and I see determination in his eyes.
“Right, liaise with Pens and don’t bother me again unless it’s life or death. Which it may turn out to be for one of you, or both.” He goes back to his paperwork and once again, we scuttle out, though not with our tails between our legs this time.
Chapter 34
*~* Fury *~*
Sitting in the clubhouse with Mateo, Pens and Bank, we’re going over ideas for the MC's new business. Pens and Bank are leaning towards opening a club, whereas Mateo and I are thinking a bar, at least to start with. If we want to get this enterprise on its feet and making money, we both think that as a bar it will be far easier to prevent the drug users, or pushers from getting their foot back in the door.
As a bar, it will not open as late and so won’t attract the wrong crowd. We could also cater for early evening meals and snack food. Although we would still have security on the doors, there wouldn’t be the expectation of as much trouble as we’d see at a club. On top of this, both Mateo and I think that once we have the bar established with a good reputation, we could put pressure on the owner of the club that was holding out for a ridiculous price, to finally sell. He would know that with another successful bar opened, his chances of selling to anyone else would be slipping away fast.
Explaining this to Pens and Bank, they look surprised that we’ve come up with this idea. Pens states, “You two might just surprise the hell out of Pres and make a go of this. You’ve obviously put some thought into it already.”
“I must remember to thank Pres for his vote of confidence. I didn’t realize everyone had such a low opinion of us and our abilities,” I reply.
“Yeah, that didn’t come out quite right,” Pens says, trying to backtrack quickly.
“Oh, I’m sure it did, especially after Fury here made a fool of the pair of us. You still owe me for that, Fury.” Mateo gives me a sour look, and I give him a sickly-sweet smile in return.
Finally agreeing on it being a bar business, we look over some ideas for the layout and even some brand ideas that Mateo threw together. Most of these revolve around the MC or a motorcycle theme, which has Pens and Bank wrinkling their noses. There’s no rush for that as we haven’t got an offer put in yet. Banks is looking at that today.
Just as we’re calling an end to the meeting, Pens shouts out, “Pres! You’re gonna want to see this!”
We all stare at him shocked and wondering what the fuck we’ve done. Pres comes rushing in, and Pens points to the TV on the wall that has been playing to itself in the background.
The news channel has a full-screen picture of Senator Haroldson’s face along with the headline that he was killed this morning in a road traffic accident. Pres voices all our thoughts in one sentence.
“That was no fucking accident, that was his son taking over the family business.” Pres waits to see if there are any more details, but none are forthcoming. “I’ll speak to the officers sometime today and decide if this is likely to affect us.” Muttering to himself, he returns to his office.
Without a word, we too break up and go our separate ways. I’m going to pick Jamie up as she wants to visit the gun range, so she arranged some time off through Molly, and Mateo has his turn on the gate shortly. I sometimes wonder if Molly isn’t the boss now at the practice.
Arriving at the gun range, which I’ve never been to before, Jamie hops out of the pickup and runs into the shop. Knowing how excited she’s been on the drive here, I don’t bother chasing her. I’m sure she’ll be dragging this Mr. Gardner she’s been talking about, out here soon enough.
Faster than I expected, the door bursts open, and a bewildered gentleman is dragged to the pickup. Now I live with Jamie, but even I can’t understand what she’s saying, as she’s talking a mile-a-minute. Stopping for breath, or because she’s run out of words, she opens the rear door and almost pushes poor old Mr. Gardner into the truck.
The silence hangs heavily for a couple of minutes, and then he reappears. He glances at me with a tear in his eye and then pulls Jamie into a hug. If he were a younger man, I’d have a problem with that, as it seems to last an eternity. Watching them part, I see tears streaming down his face. He takes a moment to compose himself and then speaks to Jamie.
“That is a wonderful thing you have done, young miss. I couldn’t imagine a more fitting tribute. Even though my son never took to hunting, the fact that the rifle means so much to me and the way you’ve chosen to display it, well, that brings more than a lump to my throat. Thank you, and if you ever need anything, you be sure to come see me.” Turning to me, he offers his hand which I take.
“Mister, that is one hell of a woman you’ve got yourself. You take good care of her, d’ya hear?”
“I know it, and I hear you loud and clear, sir.” He has a strong firm grip and I like this man.
“Mr. Gardner, I need another gun from you. Let’s go back inside,” Jamie says, surprising me.
