2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Being used to the prison system, Murphy had taken nothing with him that could set off any alarms. After putting his keys and phone into the plastic basket, he walked through the metal detector and let the guard wand over him.
His keys were kept in the basket so there was no chance of passing them onto the convict, and he pocketed his phone again. A familiar face escorted him to the interview room.
“Murphy, this guy, I don’t know if he’s right for you,” the big guard, Manny Torres, told him. “He’s awful sedate.”
“If he’s not right for us, I have friends that could take him on and put him to work.”
“Up to you. Using up all your favors on someone that’s not gonna make you money, is that smart?”
“I like people, Manny. Much more than money, though if I can have both…that’s where I shine.”
“It sure is. Here you go,” he said once they got to the room meant for a lawyer and their clients. No cameras or mics were allowed in the room, so it was the perfect place to discuss things with possible employees.
The room was painted in a dull, lifeless green and there were no cameras or glass. Just a square box and a table with two metal chairs.
When the door opened again a few minutes later, the air in the room changed, and a red flash of fury could be felt for a second before Murphy turned and took his first in-person look at Liam MacManus.
“Here you go, Murph,” Roger Conrad said as he cuffed Liam to the O-ring in the table. “If you need us, knock.”
“Thanks, Roger.”
Those heavily lidded eyes were staring right at him as Murphy faced him fully.
“Hello, Liam.”
“Who are you? You’re not my lawyer.”
“No, I’m not. My name is Connor Murphy, though everyone just calls me Murphy.”
With a slight shrug, he grunted, “So?”
They were all right. He would not be easy, but if he was, Murphy likely wouldn’t want him. “I have a friend that works for the prison system. He lets me know about guys like you, who maybe got a tough break in life and could use a little help.”
“I didn’t ask for help, don’t need help, and don’t want it. Is that it? Can I call them to take me back?”
Murphy saw he wouldn’t bend to flattery or sweetness, so Murphy put those aside and got a little stern. “No, you can’t. You’re gonna sit here for a minute and let me talk to you.”
Sitting back as much as he could while being attached to the table, Liam sighed, “Fine. What?”
Having a convict spitting out words to him was as common as the pile of used coasters at the end of a Friday night at the pub. Murphy was not only used to it, he actually wouldn’t trust the guy if he didn’t act like an ass during the first meeting.
“You only get early parole if you have a home and a job, correct?”
“So?”
“I can give you both, if you work for me. All my employees live above the bar, there’s a room free. Job, place to lay your head, parole. Get it?”
Those heavy lids lowered more until Murphy could barely see the man’s incredible eyes. “And, what? All I have to do is fuck you?”
Laughing a little, Murphy said, “I don’t think my husband would like that much, so no. And you don’t have to do that with anyone, and in fact, it’s discouraged to even date the customers.”
The lad was right to be skeptical. Murphy wanted him for nefarious reasons, just not what he assumed they were.
“What the hell would I be doing?”
“Bartending, to start, and then, if you can be trusted with bigger jobs, we’ll talk then.”
Again, a twitch of his lips led to a smile that was all disbelief. “Sure. Pouring drinks. That’s all to get me out of here. A job anyone can do.”
“Not exactly anyone, Mr. MacManus.”
Murphy’s phone was pulled out, and he scrolled until he came to the video he wanted to play. After gently placing the phone between them, he started the video playing and watched Liam’s reaction.
Those narrowed, suspicious eyes widened comically, and Murphy barely held back his laughter.
Seeing the bottles being flipped in the air, the other bartenders tossing them back and forth to one another, spinning, shaking the cocktails in the shakers, the blenders buzzing, all the men dancing while pouring the drinks. It was a sight, Murphy knew.
“You want me to do that ?”
“Trust me. None of those men came to me with those skills. It’s taken practice, and you get crash courses on the weekends.”
As Liam watched the men setting down the bottles and hopping on top of the bar to dance he sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “You got the wrong guy.”
“Like I said, it takes practice. You will have one night a week on your own, where you simply make drinks and talk to the customers. Then, on Friday and Saturday, you will work with the others, and they will take the focus off you until you are ready to join in the dancing and fun.”
“Fun? That’s…insane, dude!”
Murphy was used to the shock and denial. Every single one of his boys had protested the same way. “Liam…you don’t have to decide right now,” he said, taking his phone back and sliding it into his pocket. “But it will get you out of here. I’m looking for smart guys, guys that want to make a lot of money, and turn their life into something different.”
Staring somewhere on the table, Liam shrugged a little. “What if I can’t do it? I come back inside?”
“No. If you absolutely can’t handle it, I have friends that have businesses that can take you. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to keep you out of here, but that is also up to you. With me, you have a place to live and have men that will help you learn the routines and recipes for the drinks, and more money than you can count. There are opportunities for making more money too, down the line, when, like I said, I know I can trust you. For the other guys? Not so much, but you’ll be out of here, regardless.”
The guy was beautiful. Those gray/green eyes alone were hypnotizing, but his cherub mouth was intoxicating. The shirt he wore that day was even tighter, and it showed he was nicely in shape. The customers would go crazy for him.
“I have, like…how long?”
“To learn? I’d go as long as three months to blend in with the others and learn the drinks.”
“What about the other shit? What if I don’t want to do it?”
Murphy could see that the hidden details of the gig would bother him until he learned what they were. It didn’t matter, though. It was a deal breaker. “As I’ve said. I have friends that would hire you.”
“I get it. So, I’m not fucking old degenerates, right?”
“Right,” Murphy said with a laugh. “Unless you want to find some old degenerate and fuck them. That’s all on you.”
“I guess,” he said lowly, like if he said it too loudly, it would disappear. “How soon can I get out of here?”
“Is a week too long?”
Finally, Liam smiled and said, “That would be a miracle.”
“I have friends in high places, just not that high, so we can’t call it a miracle.”
Absinthe and Mimosa were in his kitchen when he got back home, and both were waiting impatiently for confirmation they’d get some help.
Mimosa was a sultry thing, moved like liquid metal, and his voice was as smooth. “Paps, tell me we will have our rainbow flag intact again.”
“Stop calling me Paps, you little fucker,” he said before kissing Mims on the forehead.
Andre, or Absinthe, whispered, “Well?”
“He’s taking the job. The bartending job, that is. As for the rest of it, we’ll see how he fits in first. I’m not taking any chances with any of you or my family.”
Absinthe fluttered his thick, mascara-black lashes at Murphy. “He’ll love us. Everyone loves us.”
“Those cops on burglary patrol don’t,” Eazy said as he came in with Little Mick on his hip.
“Shh, Dad,” Murphy said before grabbing his giggling son from his husband and blowing raspberries on his belly.
“Daddy! Stop,” Little Mick yelled as he laughed in that giggle that made everyone smile along with him. After setting Mick on the floor, he ran off and a tired Eazy went after him. “Get him riled up, why don’t you?”
“He’s a kid and they’re supposed to have a lot of energy.”
Eazy’s deadly look made Murphy lose his smile. “Sorry, baby.”
“You will be,” Abs told him, laughing in a whisper.
“Don’t I know it?”
Mims hopped back onto a stool and said, “Paps, come on, tell us about Red.”
“Red is not a drink and won’t be his name.”
Abs suggested, “Bloody Mary.”
“Ew,” Mims groaned. “Yes, it’s red, but it’s not the nicest name, and it’s two words.”
“Gold Rush is two words,” Abs countered, straightening his back as he challenged anyone to disparage his best friend, Goldie.
“Nobody, not even the customers, call him that. It’s shortened to Goldie, so what would we shorten Bloody Mary too? Blood, bloody, or Mary?”
Abs deflated and agreed, “True.”
Murphy leaned over the counter and confessed, “We still haven’t had the most ordered weekend drink in this place.”
In unison, the two said, “Cosmo!”
Murphy winked at them. “I think it’s perfect. And it’s perfect for him. He’s a pretty man, I’ll tell ya.”
“As pretty as us?” Abs asked.
“Almost.”
Satisfied, Abs got off the stool and started for the door that led from Murphy’s apartment to theirs. “See ya later, Murph.”
“Who’s on tonight?” Murphy asked Mims.
“Haze. He’s already down there. Mick got tired and came up to take a nap.”
“Dad’s been getting tired lately, a lot. I’ll drag him to the damn doctor, but fuck if he doesn’t fight me every step of the way.”
“I ain’t going to no fucking quack that wants to stick things up my tight Irish ass,” Mick Murphy said as he waddled into the room, perma-scowl on his ruddy face. “Where’s the kid? I know I heard him. Woke me right out of my sleep!”
The man would bitch out a priest, but the kids warmed his old, stoney heart. “Eazy is chasing your namesake. Go help the poor man.”
“He better not think about spanking that baby,” Mick said as he waddled through the kitchen and toward the stairs.
No one would spank the kids, ever, but my father suspects everyone of spanking them.
“It’s good he looks out for them,” Mims said, and his voice broke a little as he slid off the stool and headed toward the living room. “I’ve got a tournament. Bye, Paps.”
Mims went to sit in his room and play video games. Then, he’d likely go out with some ninety-year-old man and hope to get himself a daddy out of it.
With Mims, he’d lost his family when he came out, and he had been searching for love since. He dated much more than the other guys, and the men he dated were all at least twenty years older than him.
Not that Murphy could talk to him about it, not with his husband being almost twenty-five years Murphy’s junior. Eazy came back into the room, grumbling, “I’m going to kick your father’s ass.”
“I’m not gonna stop you.”
“He got Micky out of bed and is taking him to the park.”
Not meaning to laugh, Murphy expected the scowl he received for it. “He spoils the kids, especially Little Mick. We knew that. You were the one who liked that, living with three generations in the house, giving the kids the entire family experience that you didn’t have.”
“Don’t throw my words back at me, Connor Murphy,” he gritted, his pretty amber eyes narrowed to slits. Murphy was getting used to that look on people’s faces toward him.
“I wasn’t doing that, my love. I was simply pointing out that my dad loves the kids. If he didn’t, it would be worse.”
Eazy moved to him and laid his head on Murphy’s shoulder. “Sorry. Of course, I love that he is so crazy about the kids. He helps a lot, but days like this, when he totally disregards our parameters for raising them…”
“I get it.”
“Daddies,” Katie called as she came into the kitchen. Her hair was in two long blonde braids and her very light blue eyes glared up at the two of them. “I need some juice.”
The way Katie spoke, many times, Murphy had to look around for the forty-year-old woman that her tone suggested she was. Mature, strong-willed and powerful, that was their Katie.
“Where is the magic word?”
Eazy started for the fridge, but Murphy stopped him with a hand across the space.
“Please,” she said as her eyes rolled.
“That’s rude, Katie,” Eazy told her. “No juice until you can ask respectfully.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, though she didn’t look a bit sorry. “I’ve been around my little brother too much. He’s got the manners of a goldfish.”
Her lips pursed, her eyes tried and failed to be remorseful, and Murphy had to look away to hide his smile while Eazy tried to scold her. “Your brother is three, and the best way to teach him manners is by mimicking those around him. So, the more you use, the more he’ll learn.”
“I know, Daddy.”
Murphy saw his husband's jaw clenching and stepped in fully. “Katie, my darlin’, how about I get you some juice and we’ll go play with your castle for a while?”
“That would be lovely, Daddy.”
A forty-year-old in a five-year-old’s body, that was Katie. What five-year-old used the word lovely ?