Page 10 of Structure of Love

Siblings could only sacrifice for so long before resentment built up. Gage wasn’t the kid’s father; he wasn’t meant to be parenting a younger sibling. Eventually, he’d get sick of it and wash his hands of Cooper, which was best for the kid. Speaking from experience, my entire family had basically cut me off, and my grandfather had disowned me before I’d gotten my act together. Even then, it had taken years.

Well, still not my problem. My bar inside, that was mine, and I needed to get back to it. I walked through the door and started back up at the bar, slinging drinks and wiping up spills.

Silas’s glass was empty, so I stopped to refill it. “What’s this?”

“Last beer.”

I was glad he knew because I’d kind of lost track.

“So he was fine,” Silas teased.

I gave a long sigh. “And not probably straight. He had a rainbow bracelet on his wrist. I wish the timing hadn’t sucked so badly.”

“Why is your timing with men always so lousy?”

“Ask the dating gods, not me.” I eyed him sideways as I loaded the dishwasher. “Wait a damn minute, your love life sucks as much as mine.”

Silas shrugged, not bothered by my observation. “But I do try and put myself out there. Just haven’t found the right person yet. You’ve not really been trying.”

“I do try.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Bitch, don’t take that tone with me.”

He snickered, delighted at my ribbing, as always. Half of our friendship was taking jabs at each other, I swear.

Midnight passed, and I made a last call for patrons to settle their tabs. People called for friends, designated drivers, Lyfts, what have you. Our friend Casey came to haul Silas home, both leaving after a quick hug goodbye. Finally, everyone left, and I was able to lock the doors and start the cleanup.

I was loading the dishwasher when Heather approached me with a tray of dirty glasses. “Hey, Boss.”

“Yeah?”

“You really going to get us a new location?”

“Really am. Tired of paying rent, for one.”

“I mean, rent’s just money out the window, so I don’t blame you. But where you looking?”

“Not far from here, actually.” I indicated the direction down the street. “Y’know that building they just put up for sale? The one about eight doors down?”

“Oh, sure. The old…apartment building? I think it was apartments this last go-around.”

The building in question had started out as a mercantile store, and then operated as a restaurant for a while. Later, someone converted it over to office space, and then it was turned into apartments. It was a two-story brick building, narrow, but went deep. I’d walked the space and had a feeling that if I could knock out some walls, it’d make a great bar. The building’s location made it prime real estate, in a way, and I wanted it because it was within walking distance just off the square. Great location for me.

This was the final step in achieving my dream of owning a bar, which I’d had ever since I was a teen. I’d worked like a crazy man for years to be able to afford my own space, and I had finally,finallyreached that benchmark. I had a high enough credit rating, enough of a down payment, and enough money stashed for renovations. I could finally move forward. I wanted to be in my own building, my own bar, so badly I could almost taste it.

“I’m meeting up with a contractor Monday to see if it can be renovated into a bar. If they say yes, then I’m buying the place.”

“That’s a great location,” Heather said. “Plus there’s parking right next door, which is handy. Will we shut down for the move?”

“For about a week. Yeah.”

“Okay, well, keep us posted.”

“Will do.”

I was hopeful I’d get it. I’d hired a gay renovation company, as I’d heard good things about them, and I’d seen some of their work. These guys stood by their product, which I appreciated.