What's Easily Obtained is Worthless

Chapter 27 What's Easily Obtained is Worthless

The Carter siblings gathered in the living room over the weekend.

Elena tightened the screwdriver and began to shake it at a steady pace.

Martin offered some reminders: "Let it steep a little longer, ensure the wine is in full contact with the ice, use a Martini glass, and make sure the glass is chilled."

Elena took the glass out of the ice, unscrewed the cocktail shaker, and poured in the prepared Manhattan cocktail.

The final step is to add cherries as a garnish.

Elena couldn't find it: "Where are my cherries?"

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

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

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

Ignoring the two idiots, Martin said to Elena, "The Manhattan is known as the queen of cocktails. It's relatively simple to make, with multiple versions. The flavor is determined by the base spirit. Practice more."

Elena nodded: "I'll stick with it for the damn money."

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

Elena waited for him to hang up the phone before saying, "You have things to do, I'll memorize the recipe you wrote down."

Martin casually stuffed his phone into his pocket, then felt a crumpled piece of paper—a lottery ticket stub—and asked, "Did you win last time?"

Elena shook her head: "We're unlucky."

Harris came out of his room to use the bathroom and saw the bottles and utensils in the living room. He stopped and said, "I'm fifty percent healed. I can go out and earn money now."

Elena objected: "You should focus on recovering first. Keep the money you earned last time safe. Also, keep your mouth shut and don't let Scott know."

…………

The club was deserted during the day. When Martin arrived, he went straight up to the second floor and went to Vincent's office.

Vincent raised the brim of his cowboy hat, his hooked nose pointing directly at the doorway: "Make yourself at home."

Martin sat on the armchair and asked, "Boss?"

Vincent said, "The club's visitor revenue has been relatively stable recently, you've done a good job."

The word "stability" isn't necessarily a positive one. After a moment's thought, Martin said, "With the help of the ATL Freedom Association, we have sued the Methodist Association. Liberal newspapers have been reporting on it, and the current customer traffic can be maintained for a relatively long time."

Vincent ignored Martin's questions: "Do you have any new ideas about the business?"

Martin told the truth: "Boss, I don't know anything about business."

Needless to say, his predecessor spent most of his time drifting.

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

Upon hearing this, Martin knew that the opportunity he had been waiting for had arrived.

But it's not easy to fleece the boss; first, you have to get the boss to fleece you from elsewhere.

"Well... I think it boils down to two things." Martin had already thought about it, but he wouldn't say it, because things that are easily obtained are worthless. He spoke generally: "Increase ticket revenue from increased visitor traffic, and increase revenue from club merchandise sales."

He had actually considered both aspects, especially the latter, which was very suitable for the unique tastes of free women.

Vincent looked slightly disappointed, but remembering the commotion Martin had caused last time, he asked, "Haven't you considered this before?"

"I've been busy with the lawsuit against the Methodist Society," Martin said. "I'll think about it carefully."

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

Vincent knew how to motivate people, especially how to motivate his underlings before opening a club; empty words were useless.

He stated directly, "A $1 bonus."

The numbers were very tempting, but Martin was still racking his brains. He said, "Boss, I'll come back to you when I think of a solution."

Vincent waved for Martin to leave.

Martin went downstairs. $1 was a considerable sum. If he got it, he wouldn't end up penniless after failing to sell his unique product.

Vincent then met with some of the smart guys at the club. Bruce, that idiot, suggested posting Hart's posters everywhere, and the blond guy suggested introducing flour...

Hart was the last one to come up.

The guy said, "Leave it to Martin's dad!"

Vincent nearly lost his temper and smashed an ashtray over his head.

Smash it from both top and bottom!

Vincent was helpless; these days, most truly intelligent or knowledgeable people have gone into legitimate professions.

It's almost six o'clock, and the club will be opening soon.

Bruce, wiping the bar, asked Martin, "Haven't you thought of a solution?"

Martin shook his head: "God is a black man."

Bruce said, "I think it would be a good idea to print Hart's picture on something like a taxi rickshaw and stick it all over the place."

Martin asked, "The boss agreed? He gave you a bonus? Treat us, Old Brooks!"

Bruce pointed to the stage: "Let your idiot sons Hart and Carrington wear wigs and prosthetics and keep you company."

"Damn it, I told you, I only want a daughter, not a son." Martin gave him the middle finger. "Keep him for yourself."

Bruce suddenly asked, "When will your movie air?"

Martin specifically asked Andrew, saying, "Next Saturday night at 10:30, on cable channel 2."

Just then, Hart and Carrington came out with their group of handsome men to set up the stage, and Bruce shouted, "Guys, our idiot Oscar-winning actor's first movie airs next week, don't miss it!"

There was a commotion on the side of the handsome men's group.

Martin thought to himself, "If you can find me, I'll admit defeat."

As the club opened its doors, a large number of female customers entered, and everyone got busy.

Since Martin first came to the club, there have been very few male customers, since gay men have their own dedicated clubs.

After being sensationalized by the media, male customers have almost disappeared.

After working until 10 o'clock, Martin said goodbye to Bruce and left the club early.

He didn't go far; he grabbed a can of beer and stood on the street, observing the black bar across the street.

The clientele is predominantly female; at this time, more customers are leaving than going in. Ivan, having the golden retriever keep an eye on the entrance, came over and asked, "Are you planning to take action against those scumbags?"

Martin pulled another can of beer from his pocket and tossed it to Ivan: "What's the big deal?"

Ivan opened a beer, took a big gulp, and grinned, saying, "I'm an Eastern European immigrant. My whole family has been discriminated against and bullied ever since we came here. These blacks..."

Martin said, "Don't say things carelessly, or you'll cause trouble."

Ivan just smiled.

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

Female customers began to emerge from the Beast House, just as Martin had seen on previous occasions. Some of them did not go home but instead went to the Black Club across the street.

Women weren't charged admission across the street; they could enter for free and then continue drinking.

Martin tossed aside his beer can, checked his pockets to make sure he had money, crossed the street, and arrived at the entrance of the black bar.

(End of this chapter)