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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,