“Don’t you dare take that last pancake, Huck. It’s mine!” Poppy went to fork the last pancake, but Huck beat her to it and stuffed the entire thing in his mouth, his eyes twinkling over his puffed out cheeks. “You gluttonous baboon!” Poppy yelled.
“She does have a point, Huckleberry,” Dawson said. “You are a glutton. You had twice as many pancakes as anyone else.”
Huck swallowed the pancake. “Oh, you should talk, Dawg. You barely finish with a girl before you’re onto the next. I’m a glutton for food, but you’re a glutton for sex. Which is worse?”
Dawson’s eyes darkened and Jaxon quickly stepped in. “Y’all know the rules. No fighting at the table. Now did you finish with the budget, Dawson? How’s it looking?”
“Not good.” Dawson pulled out his cellphone and tapped the screen. “With the quotes Poppy got from the electrician, plumber, window guys, HVAC, and flooring companies, we’ll have negative eleven thousand twenty-eight dollars and thirty-two cents left in the account. That doesn’t include any of the quotes Poppy is getting for the mahogany bar, bar equipment, furniture, and glassware. Nor does it include hiring bartenders and servers.” He looked up from his phone. “So, basically, we’re screwed.”
Jaxon felt the pancakes he’d eaten rising up to the back of his throat. He knew there was going to be a deficiency. He just didn’t realize it would be this much. “I guess no one has a little savings they could chip in until we finish the bar and get the inheritance?”
“If we finish the bar and get the inheritance,” Dawson said. “And I have a little savings. When I say little, I’m talking about a couple thousand. That’s not going to make a dent.”
Jaxon glanced at Poppy and she shrugged. “I loaned some money to Wylynn, I could see about getting that back.”
Huck snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure that loser still has that handy.”
Poppy slapped his arm. “Shut up, Huckleberry. He’s not a loser. I told him he could use the money to help promote our band. Once we get a record deal, I’ll get it back with interest.”
Jaxon doubted it. From the stories Poppy told, her boyfriend sounded like a loser. Something Jaxon planned to keep to himself.
“Okay, well, I guess our only choices are to get a loan or call it quits.”
“Hey,” Huck said. “You didn’t ask me if I had any money.”
Jaxon tried not to roll his eyes. “Do you have money, Huckleberry?”
Huck sighed. “I would have if my investment in that hands-free fishing reel had panned out.” Huck was always losing his money in some bizarre get-rich scheme. Like their daddy, he liked to gamble, but he wasn’t a quitter. “I’m not calling it quits.” He looked around the table. “We can do this. Look how much we’re already done without any help from anyone. We cleaned out all the rubble from the fire and framed the interior walls.”
“Jaxon and I framed the interior walls,” Dawson said. “You and Poppy can not be trusted with a nail gun.”
Huck grinned. “Now don’t be holding grudges, Dawg. I didn’t mean to shoot you and the nail came out of your leg clean as a whistle with hardly any blood.”
“I did mean to shoot you, Jax,” Poppy said. “I forgot you’re made of cold marble.”
Huck laughed. “That nail did bounce right off your butt, Jax. It was the funniest thing I ever saw.”
Jaxon sighed. “What’s not funny is our lack of money. So what’s the vote? Do we stay the course or quit?”
“Stay!” Huck raised his hand.
Poppy nodded. “Stay.”
Dawson took his good sweet time voting. “Stay, but only if we can figure out how to get more money. I refuse to spend one more drop of sweat on Honky Tonk Heaven until we have enough money in the account to complete the renovation and reopen.”
“Fair enough,” Jaxon said. “If we can’t get a loan, it’s a moot point anyway. I’ll head to the bank today.”
Poppy looked at him. “And you think you’re the good choice for getting a loan when everyone in town still thinks you robbed the gas station?”
Huck nodded. “She does have a point, Jax. Maybe one of us should go to the bank.”
They were right, but for some reason, he couldn’t concede the point. Maybe because he wanted to make up for leaving them . . . or maybe, deep down in his heart, he just wanted to see if the townsfolk were finally willing to see him as something more than just a Hennessy Hooligan.
He should have known better.
Mrs. Reed, the loan officer at the bank, spent no more than a minute perusing the loan application Jaxon had spent a good hour filling out before she smiled weakly and shook her head.
“I’m sorry, but you just don’t have enough income or collateral for us to give you a loan. Especially a loan of that size.”
