Colter

C olter Williams wasn’t sure if he was on the right path in his life, but he had already been down so many wrong paths that there surely couldn’t be any left for him to travel. Buying the old building that was going to hopefully one day be his new bar, was a dream, but turning it into an actual bar was going to be a nightmare.

He was living back home, in Georgia, taking care of his grandpa, and when he passed, felt as though it was time for him to move on. He had no other family, as far as he knew, and staying in the house that he had grown up in suddenly felt wrong.

His grandpa had raised him after his parents both died in a car accident when he was only seven. He missed his parents, but his grandpa gave him a magical childhood. He took him camping and fishing and even taught how to drive a car when he was sixteen. His grandpa was his best friend and when he passed, ’s whole world felt as though it was closing in around him. His grandpa had left the big old house that had been in their family for generations to him, and there was no way that he could sell it. Not until he could decide if he was making the right decision to leave town and all the memories behind. His grandpa had also left him a hefty bank account to help him start over. It was almost as though he knew that would need to find a new life somewhere else, and that gave him some peace.

After his grandpa’s funeral, he packed up some of his stuff, loaded it into his pickup truck, and headed north until he was tired of driving. He stopped in a town that he’d never heard of for the night and the next morning, he found the building that would become his bar. It was directly across from a place called The Kink Club. wasn’t sure what they sold, but he was sure that thirsty people would head over to his place after shopping. He had planned to stop into the club and introduce himself on his last trip to town, but he was too busy running around with the realtor, hoping to find a small house to buy. If he planned on running a business in town, he thought that living there might gain him some more customers, wanting to meet the new guy in town. He had found a small place in town, not that it could ever compare to his family home, but then again, there was no family left to enjoy it with. The house was just a three bedroom, two bath home that reminded him of a beach bungalow. He liked the vibe of the house and could see himself living there for a while. He just hoped that his bar took off because if not, he’d be moving back home in no time flat.

Today, he was in town to do the final walkthrough of his house and then, he was going to apply for a liquor license. The contractors working on his bar promised that they’d have the place ready in three more weeks, and he needed to be ready to unpack everything that he had bought for the place. He needed to order a cook and some waitresses and figure out the rest of it as he went. He needed a manager who had experience running a bar so that he wouldn’t be in the dark once his place opened. He hoped to take care of hiring a manager this afternoon after he ran the rest of his errands.

His favorite part of the bar, the sign, was being installed in one day, and he couldn’t wait to see his grandpa’s name in lights. had decided to name his place, Abner’s Bar and Grill, and he knew that wherever his grandpa was, he was watching him and smiling at the idea of having a bar named after him.

He walked into the bar to pick up the liquor license paperwork that he had left in his new office. It was the only finished space in the who place. He waved to a couple of the guys who were working around the bar and walked back to his office, trying to avoid having to talk to anyone. He needed to get downtown to the courthouse to file his request to be able to serve alcohol and he didn’t have time to answer a million questions about what color paint he wanted again.

“Boss,” his project manager called on his way out.

“No time now, John,” he said back over his shoulder. He stepped out of the bar right into a wall of man.

“Sorry,” the guy said. He looked the tall blond over and thought about how he was just his type. If he was actually dating right now, he might just be interested.

“No,” said, “it’s my fault. I was in a hurry and not watching where I was going. Please tell me that you aren’t my three o’clock meeting.”

“Um, no,” the man said, “actually, I’m your neighbor. I own The Kink Club over there,” he said pointing to the building next to the bar. “Or, I should say that my husband and I own the club along with our best friend.” Shit—the cute guy, who owned the business next store, had a husband, so it didn’t matter if he was ’s type or not.

“Well, it’s good to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Williams.”

“Ross Ballerini,” the guy said, shaking ’s hand. “Listen, if you need a hand with anything, please let us know. I can get a few guys together to help move stuff in for you if you need the help.”

“That’s generous of you, Ross,” he said. “I just take you up on your offer.” He said it as more than a warning than an acceptance. The poor guy didn’t know what he was getting into by offering his help.

Ross seemed to pick up on ’s meaning, chuckling and backing away from him. “It’s good to meet you, . I’ll let you get back to your day, but my offer stands. If you need any help, just holler,” Ross said. nodded and watched his hot neighbor walk back over to his club.

“Shit, I forgot to ask him what he sells over at his place,” he said to himself.

He heard John’s heavy work boots stomping down the steps and he knew that he wasn’t going to get away as easily this time.

“Sorry to interrupt you talking to yourself,” John said, “but the bar top is being installed today and I need you to sign off on where you want it.”

“Oh,” said, “sure. Sorry about a few minutes ago, but I was on the way to get my liquor license.” John handed him a clipboard with the paperwork that he needed to sign, and he quickly scribbled his John Hancock onto the back page and handed the clipboard back to his foreman.

“Good luck downtown, boss,” John said. “And by the way—to answer your question, the club doesn’t sell anything. It’s a sex club.” He walked back up the stairs, not bothering to turn around to see ’s expression. John could probably hear his gasp as he walked away.