"What do you think you know?" Tyree demanded, opening the three beers in turn.
"That you're staring down a barrel. The balance of a mortgage due at the end of the year. What I don't know is how much that loan is. But you've been acting off the last couple of days, so I'm thinking it's more than you've got tucked away in the cookie jar."
"You're thinking along the right lines," Tyree said, his voice gruff.
"How much?" Brent demanded boldly.
Tyree exhaled, then scrubbed his palms over his face. "Too fucking much," he said, and when he told them the actual number, Reece had to agree. From the way Brent sat up, his posture turning just a little too stiff, it looked like Brent thought so, too.
"Downtown Austin real estate ain't cheap," Tyree said, "and there was no way I wasn't going to get my place. You boys already know this, but that was always my dream. A bar. Maybe a food truck--you know me and my kitchen. But I wanted it to be more about the eats, even more about the drink. I wanted it to be a destination. I wanted a place that folks thought of almost like a home. Not like they were visiting, but like it was theirs, you know?"
"You know we do. And we've got some damn loyal customers who think just that way. They'd help you out, Ty." Brent tapped a knuckle on the tabletop. "You know they would."
Ty didn't even miss a beat, just kept on with the story. "Teiko's dying wish was for me to open my place. One that hit all my high points. A place that had at-mos-phere," he said, emphasizing each syllable just the way Teiko used to do when she wanted to make a point. Then he flashed a watery smile. "Took me a while to find the place but I think she'd approve."
"I told you back then she would," Reece said softly. "Go on. You borrowed money to buy it, obviously."
Tyree sighed. "This house is paid off, and no way was I going to mortgage it. Couldn't even if I wanted to. Eli's granddaddy left it to him. A couple of years and he can kick his old man out if he wants to, once he's eighteen and it comes out of trust. We emptied our savings and got incurred a shit-ton of debt for Teiko's medical bills, but after she passed--"
His voice hitched, and he took a long swallow of beer. "Well, after she passed there was the life insurance, and I paid off the debt and put the rest in the bank. My credit was still screwed, though. Medical bills can do you in. Then when I found the property, I used the left-over life insurance for a down payment on The Fix. Seven-year term, amortized over thirty, with a huge fucking balloon at the end. With my credit in such bad shape, that was the best deal I could get, and it wasn't even with a bank. Now I'm thinking I should have just kept on walking."
"Not with a bank?"
"Buddy of mine knows a guy who put me in touch with a private lender. Venture capitalist type. All on the up-and-up, but just because he's one guy doesn't mean he won't foreclose."
"You've asked."
"I practically begged. No dice. I pay off the loan by the end of the year, or I lose the property." He shook his head, then took another swallow, finishing off the beer. "It all seemed like a long way off when I signed the papers, but in the last four years, Austin's changed. Competition's fierce. Places like Bodacious move in, and they're all tits and ass and dollar drinks. That's hard shit to compete with."
"You're preaching to the choir," Reece said. As the manager, he knew just how hard it was to attract new customers, especially when the college students tended toward the chain bars with the all-night happy hours. "But we have something those dollar traps like Bodacious don't--a loyal customer base."
"That only goes so far," Ty said.
"Could go further," Brent put in, obviously following Reece's train of thought. "Let us talk to a few people. It might be possible for us to pull together enough money to pay off the original loan with a new one from one of the regulars. I can think of a few who could write a check today."
Tyree shook his head. "No. Teiko knew that The Fix was my dream, and she wanted me to have my shot. But she wouldn't want me throwing good money after bad. It's either working, or it's not. I'm not chasing loans for the rest of my life. And I'm sure as hell not borrowing from someone I may not be able to pay back."
"Then we ask for donations. A little bit from a lot of people. It can add up."
"I appreciate the ideas, I do. But one of those Internet campaigns? You two know that's not my style. My bar stays open because people come in for the drink and the music and the food or not at all. I didn't lose my business because of a hurricane or a fire--that's the kind of thing people donate for. To help someone hit by bad luck. But if The Fix goes under, it'll be because of good old-fashioned competition. And that's played inside the bar at the cash register, not on the Internet."
Reece met Brent's eyes. Truth was, he didn't disagree.
Slowly, Brent nodded. "Fair enough. Then we'll just have to kick it into high gear. Up the cover charge, maybe sneak up a few drink prices, but bring them in with dollar beers. And book a few A-listers. Kiki'd come play at the Fix, I'm sure," he added, referring to Cameron's sister. "We'll make it happen."
"It's a good pitch, but it's all talk," Tyree said. "You boys are just now diving into this me
ss. I've been living it for months. And trust me, I've done the math. To earn the money I need I'll have to charge prices that would drive away the customers. And then I can't earn the money."
"You're talking like it's over," Reece said.
"That's because it is," Ty said. "You know I'm right. I've got some feelers out for a buyer. With any luck, I'll be able to pay off the note and end up with a little cash in my pocket, too. More luck, and I'll find a buyer before the year's out who wants to keep The Fix as is. Hate to think I brought her to life, only to have her turned into the downtown Austin location of some restaurant conglomerate."
"Surely not," Brent said.
"Already got nibbles on that front. You heard of Booty Call?"
"Ah, hell no." Reece pinched the bridge of his nose.