Chapter 27: Easy Come, Easy Go

Over the weekend, the Carter siblings gathered in the living room.

Elena tightened the cocktail shaker and shook it steadily.

Martin reminded her of the steps: "Shake it a bit longer so the liquor fully mixes with the ice. Use a martini glass, and make sure it's chilled."

Elena took a glass from the ice bucket, opened the shaker, and poured out a Manhattan cocktail.

The final touch was to add a cherry as a garnish.

Elena couldn't find it. "Where's my cherry?"

On the sofa, Lily hid the bowl behind her back and said, "Elena, I accidentally ate all the cherries. Don't you have more?"

"Hall, take off your stinky socks!" Martin turned around and said, "Stuff them into this idiot Lily's mouth!"

Lily got up and ran to her room, and Hall took off his socks and chased after her.

Martin ignored the bickering duo, turned to Elena, and said, "The Manhattan is known as the queen of cocktails. It's relatively simple to make, has several variations, and its taste depends on the base liquor. Keep practicing."

Elena nodded. "For the damn money, I'll keep at it."

Martin's phone rang. He stepped aside to answer it. It was Vincent, asking him to come to the club as soon as possible.

After he hung up, Elena said, "You go take care of your business. I'll memorize the recipe you wrote down."

Martin put the phone back in his pocket and felt a crumpled piece of paper, which turned out to be a lottery ticket stub. He asked, "Did we win last time?"

Elena shook her head. "Our luck wasn't good."

Harris came out from his room, headed to the bathroom, saw the bottles and equipment in the living room, stopped, and said, "I'm 50% healed. I can go out and make money now."

Elena disagreed. "Recover fully first. Save the money from last time. And keep your mouth shut. Don't let Scott know."

...

The club was quiet during the day. When Martin arrived, he headed straight to the second floor and entered Vincent's office.

Vincent lifted the brim of his cowboy hat, his hooked nose pointing toward the door. "Have a seat."

Martin sat on a single-seater sofa and asked, "Boss?"

Vincent said, "The club's revenue from foot traffic has been stable recently. You've done a good job."

The word "stable" wasn't necessarily a compliment. After some thought, Martin replied, "Leveraging the ATL Freedom Association, we've filed lawsuits against the Methodist Association. There's been a lot of coverage in the liberal newspapers, so the current foot traffic should last for a while."

Vincent brushed off Martin's comments. "Do you have any new ideas for the business?"

Martin was honest. "Boss, I don't really understand business."

In his previous life, he had spent most of his time drifting aimlessly.

Vincent nodded slightly. "I want to boost the club's revenue by another third. What do you think?"

Hearing this, Martin knew his opportunity had arrived.

But taking advantage of the boss was no easy task. First, he had to make sure the boss figured out how to make up for it elsewhere.

"Well...I think it basically boils down to two things." Martin had ideas but didn't share them easily. He spoke generally, "Increase revenue from ticket sales and increase sales of club merchandise."

He had considered both aspects, especially the latter, which suited the unique tastes of liberated women.

Vincent was somewhat disappointed but recalled the commotion Martin had caused last time. He asked, "Never thought about it before?"

"I've been busy with the lawsuits against the Methodist Association," Martin explained. "I'll think it over carefully."

Vincent stared at Martin for a while, seeing him frown in deep thought, and sighed inwardly.

Understanding how to motivate people, especially when running a club and inspiring his crews, Vincent knew that empty promises were useless.

He said directly, "A $10,000 bonus."

The sum was enticing. Martin continued to ponder and said, "Boss, I'll come to you once I figure out a plan."

Vincent waved his hand, signaling Martin to leave.

As Martin descended the stairs, he thought that $10,000 was not a small amount. If he got it, he wouldn't end up broke even if his unique merchandise failed to sell.

Vincent subsequently met with a few smart people from the club. Bruce suggested putting up posters of Hart everywhere, while Blondie recommended introducing flour...

Finally, Hart showed up.

This guy said, "Leave it to Daddy Martin to solve!"

Vincent almost lost it and nearly threw an ashtray at Hart's head.

Upstairs and downstairs, together!

Vincent felt helpless. Truly smart or knowledgeable people these days mostly engaged in legitimate industries.

As six o'clock approached, the club was about to open.

Bruce wiped down the bar and asked Martin, "Haven't thought of anything?"

Martin shook his head. "God is Black."

Bruce said, "I still think putting Hart's photo on taxi ads and sticking them everywhere is a good idea."

Martin asked, "Did the boss approve? Did he give you a bonus? Invite us to a feast, old Bruce!"

Bruce pointed to the stage. "Have your idiot sons Hart and Carrington put on wigs and prosthetics and accompany you."

"Damn, I said I wanted daughters, not sons." Martin flipped him off. "You keep them yourself."

Bruce suddenly asked, "When is your movie going to air?"

Martin had asked Andrew earlier and replied, "Next Saturday night at 10:30, on Cable Channel 2."

Just then, Hart and Carrington came out with their crew to set up the stage. Bruce shouted, "Guys, next Saturday, don't miss our idiot movie star's debut on TV!"

The crew hooted and hollered.

Martin thought, if you can find me, I'll concede defeat.

As the club opened, a large number of female customers started to arrive, and everyone got busy.

Since Martin joined the club, there had been very few male customers, as gay men had their dedicated venues.

Following media hype, male customers had almost disappeared altogether.

At ten o'clock, Martin informed Bruce that he was leaving early and left the club.

He didn't go far. With a can of beer in hand, he stood on the street observing the black bar opposite.

The customer base was female, and at this hour, more customers were leaving than entering. Ivan, who was guarding the door, approached and asked, "Are you planning to deal with those bastards?"

Martin took another can of beer from his pocket and tossed it to Ivan. "How big is your grudge?"

Ivan opened the beer, took a big gulp, and snarled, "I'm an Eastern European immigrant. My whole family faced discrimination and bullying from them. These black..."

Martin warned, "Watch your mouth to avoid trouble."

Ivan just laughed.

Martin chatted idly with Ivan, but his eyes were always on the female customers leaving the club, watching them depart.

Gradually, female customers were leaving Beast House. As Martin had observed before, some of them didn't go home but rather headed to the black club across the street.

The other club didn't charge women for entry. They could go in for free and continue drinking.

Martin tossed away his empty beer can, checked his pocket to make sure he had money, and crossed the street to the black bar.

*****

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