Play Along (3 page)

"I told you that if you ever kiss me like that again, you damn well better mean it." Ricardo's hand slid up from Mark's shoulder and wrapped around the back of his neck. "Now, I could be wrong, and if I am, you just say so, but…" Ricardo shrugged and took his other hand off the wall, placing it instead on Mark's chest and rubbing small circles over his heart before trailing it down his stomach and cupping the bulge in the front of Mark's jeans. "I think maybe you mean it now, don't you?" Ricardo grinned and squeezed gently before leaning in closer, tilting his head back and staring up into Mark's eyes.

Mark choked out a sob and grabbed his friend, bending down and kissing him hard. Ricardo's mouth opened for him and Mark shoved inside, learning his taste and carefully mapping the inside of his hot mouth. Their teeth clinked together and their tongues dueled. Ricardo's moustache tickled Mark's nose and he chuckled softly, enjoying the rough texture. Mark couldn't believe his luck. What he needed had been in front of him all along. He didn't understand how he'd missed it for so long, but now that he had it, he wasn't ever letting go.

****

Sunday, Aug 12, 2009.

Mark dropped the last glass into the last slot inside the large industrial dish washer and slid the rack into place, slamming the door shut and pushing the buttons that would bring the thing roaring to life. "There. Done! At last. What time is it, anyway?"

Ricardo
tied
and
dropped the last of the trash bags by the back door before coming up behind him
. Pressing
against
Mark
'
s
back
and
wrapping his arms around
his
torso
,
Ricardo
held
his wrist in front of Mark
'
s face
,
showing him his
new
watch.
The words
'
Play Time
'
were written across the face in bold red letters. The hands on the clock declared it to be a
lmost five
in the morning
.
Damn
, it was late!

Ricardo's erection pressed against the back of Mark's thigh and Mark grinned, threading his fingers though Ricardo's and squeezing. "Work's done, babe. It's play time now."

Mark laughed and nodded his agreement. "Damn, Ricky. Let's go home, huh? Where we can play until we both pass out." Ricardo backed off and pulled Mark away from the counter, turning him toward the door. They grabbed the trash bags and headed out the back door, locking up behind them.

"Lead the way, baby. I'm right behind you." Mark took the bags from Ricardo and bent down to kiss him. Ricardo pulled out of the kiss and bent over his motorcycle, unhooking his helmet from the handlebars. Unable to resist, Mark smacked his ass before hurrying off to the dumpster with trash bags.

"I'd follow that ass anywhere. See you at home, babe." He called out as Ricardo climbed onto the bike and revved the engine. He waited until Mark climbed into his car before pulling out of the parking lot with Mark following close behind him, his headlights adding visibility to Ricardo's ride.

They pulled up to the last stop light about a mile from home before they met any other traffic. A large SUV pulled up close behind Mark, too close, tapping his bumper while they waited for the light. Mark ignored it and followed Ricardo through the intersection.

The SUV stayed on his tail, driving dangerously close and flashing his lights like an idiot. Mark slowed down, hoping the jerk would take the hint and back off. Instead, the guy in the SUV leaned on his horn and drove even closer. Mark flashed his lights, signaling for Ricardo to pull over, but he was too late.

The driver of the SUV jerked over into the other lane, gunning his engine and zipping past Mark's car like a maniac. Mark watched in horror as the monstrous vehicle whipped back into the lane in front of him, sideswiping Ricardo's bike and launching the motorcycle and his lover into the guardrail along the side of the road.

"No! Shit. God, no!" Mark didn't know if the words actually made it past his lips or not. It didn't matter. He needed to get to Ricardo, fast.

Mark slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt and barely managing to put his car into park before releasing his seatbelt and tumbling out of the car. He raced across the pavement and into the ditch, clambering over the mangled guardrail to reach his lover's prone body. His legs were twisted at an impossible angle and his left arm was pinned under the front wheel of his bike. Mark knelt on the ground next to him, carefully removing the helmet and cradling Ricardo's head in his lap.

"Ricky! Ricky, baby, can you hear me? Come on, Ricky. Stay with me! Come on, open your eyes. Look at me, damn it!" Ricardo seemed to smile up at him, sucking air in through clenched teeth while his entire body trembled violently in Mark's arms. He squeezed Mark's hand, but he didn't say a word. "Damn it, Ricky! Talk to me!" Mark whispered against his cheek.

A moment later Ricardo's eyes closed and his hand released Mark's fingers. The stuttered breaths and the tremors stopped and Ricardo's body went limp. All Mark could do was sit there, holding onto Ricardo until the paramedics arrived and pulled him away.

Their arrival startled Mark. He had no idea how long they
'
d been by the side of the road or who had called 911.
All he
'
d been aware of was the sound of
his own heart
pound
ing behind his ears.
He watched helplessly while t
he paramedic loaded Ric
ardo
onto a gurney, covering him head to toe with a sheet. He was vaguely aware of the paramedics checking him over, but his full attention was on the gurney that held his lover
. His
dead
lover.

Numb with disbelief, Mark closed his eyes and his heart, hoping to shut out the pain he knew would never go away.

Chapter Two

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Mark Nelson pulled into the packed parking lot surrounding the bar he'd owned and operated for twenty-five years, and cringed. Cars overflowed into the adjacent lots of the neighboring businesses and lined the streets on both sides of his building. He circled around to the back, parking in the last available space in the employee lot and cutting the engine. His space. The one space that always stayed empty. In front of the parking space stood a large hand-painted sign, something he and Ricardo had come up with after their first year when business had just started to boom.

If you want to drink here

Don't park here.

(Unless you work here.)

In which case,

No drinking on the job!

Over the years it had become his own personal spot—none of the employees dared to park there. For a few minutes he just sat in his car, glaring alternately between the building and everyone who hurried past from the streets, heading for the main entrance. The back door opened briefly and Kim, one of his servers, emerged with a bag of trash hanging from each hand. Mark sighed and opened the car door, resigning himself to the fact that he had to go in there sometime. As he approached the building he checked his watch, instantly regretting it.

The battered piece of jewelry was the one Ricardo had been wearing the night of the accident, the night he'd died. Mark had to smile at the words 'Play Time' written in bold script across the face of the watch. He could almost hear Ricardo's voice, playfully chastising him, reminding him that a packed lot meant a packed bar, which was good business and just good all around! Especially at nine-thirty on a Tuesday night, early yet, and not even a weekend.

Mark blinked back tears and waved at his employee, who was now leaning against the wall, chatting in Korean on his cell phone. The kid waved back and Mark pulled open the door labeled 'authorized personnel only' and let himself in, glancing at the logo on the door as he passed.

Over the years the odd, zigzagging symbol had earned the establishment the nickname 'Ziggy's.' He didn't care for it much, but it really didn't matter to him what people called the place. Originally, the connected letters 'MN' had stood for Mark and Nathan, his first lover-turned-business-partner, but now it served only as a reminder not to become involved with closeted men, romantically or professionally. Since the initials were the same as those of his own name, he'd never bothered to come up with anything else.

Nate had bailed before the place even opened for business. He'd thrown their enterprise away to marry the daughter of a wealthy businessman who owned an up and coming hotel chain. The arrangement provided Nate with everything; a home, a business, the chance to build a powerful reputation, and a rich future. Mark's love and his simple dreams hadn't been enough to compete with all of that.

Mark pushed aside the melancholy thoughts and wove his way through the storage area, indifferently noting the disarray before emerging into the deafening crush of dancing men. Evidence of his success bumped into him from every side as he tried to bob and weave his way through the crowd unmolested.

Almost immediately his head bartender, Louie, a handsome black man in his late thirties, caught his eye and grinned. He waved and gestured for Mark to come around behind the bar where he was working, pouring drinks and dancing to the music blaring from the speakers. Reluctantly, Mark complied. He had hoped to sneak off to his office unnoticed, but now? Well, snubbing Louie just wasn't an option. He was a good friend and a brilliant businessman, and Mark needed him too much to risk either relationship.

"Hey there, boss man! You come out to play tonight, or are you checking up on me?" Louie winked and flashed his startling white smile, and Mark couldn't help but smile back.

"God knows, this place would fall apart if someone didn't keep an eye on you. Don't know why I put up with you." Mark returned Louie's wink, easily transitioning into the familiar role of another bartender, taking orders and mixing drinks for thirsty patrons.

Mark had hired Louie four years ago, and he'd quickly become an invaluable asset to the business, even more so since Ricardo's untimely death. When Mark had fallen apart, Louie had stepped up, taking care of almost every aspect of running the place. Mark promoted him, making him manager, and ever since the bar had practically run itself… Or rather, Louie had run it… or whatever. All Mark had to do anymore was sign on the dotted line where Louie indicated, and write out the checks so that the bills got paid.

Eventually, though, he would have to step back up and take charge or else get out of the business entirely, because this setup wasn't fair to anyone. This place was his dream and the fruit of a hell of a lot of labor over a many, many years. The thought of giving it up turned his stomach almost as badly as the noise and constant movement that surrounded him.

Despite the familiar routine, Mark began to fidget after a few minutes, uncomfortable with being in front of so many people. He'd thrived on it once, but now it wore on his nerves until they were ready to snap. Especially with the added guilt settling in.

When Ricardo died, Mark lost all interest in everything, especially the bar, and he'd considered closing the place down after neglect had nearly run it into the ground. He had promoted Louie as a last ditch effort not to fold, and amazingly Louie had managed to pump life back into the stagnant business. Mark owed Louie a huge debt of gratitude for every day he chose to stay on at the MN, because he simply couldn't handle it on his own anymore.

Glancing around the bar, Mark swore he saw Ricardo's shadow out of the corner of his eye, constantly moving just out of his sight. The memories were everywhere, and even after all this time, they were still too painful for him to face head-on. Trying not to get carried away, he grabbed a rag from under the cash register and began to wipe up the spills on the bar.

Louie eyed him for a few moments, but Mark refused to meet his gaze. He was wiping up imaginary spills by now, but he couldn't stop. He needed to at least maintain the illusion of being busy.

Louie opened a couple bottles of beer and handed them over the bar before moving closer. His hand landed on top of Mark's, squeezing reassuringly and stilling his unnecessary motions. "You all right, boss?"

Mark nodded and backed away from the bar, offering Louie a feeble smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind right now. I thought I'd stop by and see about the bills, maybe run some numbers. I've been thinking about putting a new floor on the stage, maybe even expanding it some. We haven't had any shows in a while, and there are some really good new local bands we could book. Need to do something to keep this place interesting."

"That'd be a good start anyway. The stage has been empty for too long." Louie shook his head, sliding two glasses down the bar to waiting patrons before turning back to face Mark. "Shit man, you really need to think about expanding the whole place. You know we actually reach capacity on the weekends, and we have to turn people away. You ought to think about knocking out that side wall and doubling the size of the club, maybe add a second bar over on the other side, open the place up a little…" Louie's eyes shone in the near darkness as he bit his lower lip, a faraway look crossing his face while he considered the possibilities.

Mark's throat tightened and he thought back to when he held that kind of passion for business and similar hopes for the future. He and Ricardo had discussed many of those same ideas before the accident. But now the thought of expanding filled him with dread and exhaustion as opposed to the excitement he saw on Louie's face. Mark smiled feebly and shook his head. "I'll give it some thought, but… I think, maybe I'm getting too old, getting tired."