“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize his proposal was garbage. He’s been in business for a long time. I thought he was solid.”
“Trust me, he’s not solid and he will be out of business within six months.”
She looked shocked. “Oh.”
“What do I have next?” I asked.
She cleared her throat. “You’ve got a conference call in twenty minutes and a meeting at four. That’s all I have.”
“Good, thank you.”
“Oh, I need to know when you want me to schedule the meeting with the new company you just bought.”
I thought about it. “Friday. I want to go when people are in good moods.”
“Morning or afternoon?”
“Schedule it for midmorning in case it takes a while.”
She nodded. “Got it. Anything else? Coffee?”
“No thank you. I’m good.”
She left me alone to filter through the stack of papers piled on my desk. I remembered how long it took me to make my first million. The hard work had been daunting but here I was sitting at the helm of a very successful business and now people wanted me to show them the way. They wanted me to help them reach the same success. I held the power to give them the hand up they were asking for.
At the end of the day, I grabbed my things and headed out of my office. Judging by how quiet it was, everyone was already gone for the day. I was the captain of the ship and I didn’t expect everyone to stick around as long as I did.
I went downstairs, and as was my usual, I headed for the bar in the building. It wasn’t exactly conventional, but it sure as hell was convenient to have a bar on the bottom floor of the building. I owned the building, and the bar was just an extra revenue stream.
It catered to the people that worked in the building and the many corporate employees that worked on the block. My bar was designed to be relaxing. It was a place a guy could go after a long day of wearing a tie that was too tight. He could loosen it, sit in a comfortable chair, and drink the good stuff.
The music was low, and because I knew my clientele, there were several TVs mounted around the bar with the news on. A lot of the people that came into the bar were the Wall-Street type, and even when they were supposed to be relaxing, they were always watching what was happening.
“Barkeep,” I said and slapped my hand on the smooth bar that had soft LED lights running the length of the semi-circle.
Davin looked up and rolled his eyes. “Asshole. No one says that.”
I smirked. “I did.”
He left the pretty lady he’d been talking to and walked over to where I was standing. “Why are you in here on a Monday? Don’t you have millions of dollars to count?”
“I need a drink.”
He winced as he pulled a glass from under the bar and grabbed the usual bottle from the shelf. He poured two fingers of scotch and slid the glass toward me. “What’s going on?”
“Just the usual.”
He laughed. “Still crushing the dreams of young entrepreneurs’ who want to grow up and be you? Telling people their businesses are going to sink in a few months.”
That sounded a little too spot on. “What do you know?”
He laughed. “Not the full story. I just happened to be the lucky guy that got to serve the man you booted out of your office today.”
I held up a finger. “I didn’t kick him out. I walked away after giving him thirty minutes of my very valuable time. I think that was more than generous.”
“That’s not what he said.”
“Why do you listen to that garbage? And why do they come in here and tell you? Do you have some kind of sign up?” I looked around the dark bar to drive home my point.
“As it turns out, you are kind of famous,” he said. “It doesn’t take much to get these guys started. I give them a drink at one o’clock in the afternoon and it’s pretty clear something is on their mind. My job as the bartender is to ask them what that thing is.”
“And you just happen to bring up my name?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Hell no. I don’t dare admit to knowing you. They start complaining about a douchebag named Nash. My favorite is the guy who called you a dick cheese. That one was funny. Bastard and asshole are boring. I like the ones that get creative.”
I sipped my alcohol. “Why are they coming in here and telling you?”
“Because we are the closest bar to your office,” he answered. “You send them packing and they end up here. Been that way for five years. They can’t even get home without a drink after meeting you.”
“I’ve known you for five years,” I said.
He winked. “And I knew you before you ever knew me.”
I scowled. “You never told me that.”
“I don’t tell you everything.”
“Do you tell them you are friends with me?” I asked.
“Tell who?”
“The guys dogging me,” I snapped.
His eyes flashed with amusement. “Hell no. They wouldn’t leave me a tip.”
“So, you just let them talk shit about me?”
He nodded. “Yep. I offer them advice, like a good bartender does. Then I tell them to ignore you and move on. I tell them you are just one asshole and not the be all, end all.”
“With friends like you, I don’t need enemies.”
He smirked. “I think what you mean is, I am your only friend and the enemies’ side is just too full to squeeze me in.”
“I really don’t know why I don’t fire you,” I muttered.
He grinned and reached under the counter again. He filled a glass from the tap and handed it to another customer at the bar. “Because you like me,” he said.
“No, because I think you want me to fire you. You want me to fire you so you can collect unemployment. I’m not going to let you sit on your ass.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Dammit, you figured me out.”
“You know I did.”
“Why would I want to give up all this?” he said and held up his arms. “My dream job.”
“Very funny,” I said with a shake of my head.
“I think you should pay me extra for all the counseling I must provide to your victims.”
“Please, they could just grow a pair and go back to the drawing board,” I shot back. “I got told no countless times. I never went into a bar and cried about someone being mean to me.”
“Do you want a cookie for being a stud?” he teased.
“I am a stud and don’t you forget it.”
“Are you going to be able to get back out that door tonight? I think your head has grown a good three sizes since you’ve been in here.”
“Do you know I went to a community college?” I asked him as I took another drink.
“Nope. I figured you were one of those Yale hotshots.”
I slowly shook my head. “No. I don’t even have a four-year degree. I went to business school and then dropped out before I could go on. I couldn’t afford it and I figured it didn’t make a lot of sense to start out in debt. I am more of a hands-on guy. I didn’t want or need my father’s help to make it. I paid for my own education, what little I have. I didn’t want anyone to think I owed them anything.”