The Nine Years Bar
The Nine Years Bar
By Shawn Lane
Published by JMS Books LLC
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2019 Shawn Lane
ISBN 9781634869423
Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com
Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
All rights reserved.
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
* * * *
The Nine Years Bar
By Shawn Lane
“Nine years.”
Allan Baker looked up, startled from scrolling through his phone, at the craggy-faced man sitting on the barstool to the right of him.
“Excuse me?”
The man appeared to be in his late seventies to early eighties, if Allan had to guess. The man wasn’t even really paying any attention to him, it seemed, since he was staring into the beer in front of him, but, on the other hand, there was no one else around.
“I said…nine years.”
“I heard you.” Allan frowned. “I just…how did you know? Are you like a psychic or something?”
The man glanced at him. “What?”
“You said nine years.” Allan swirled the whiskey in his glass, then took a sip.
It wasn’t a particularly trendy place. Not a club or a place young people would hang out. It was off the beaten path, really. A bar down a side street of the main business section in a suburb of Los Angeles. But Allan had been coming there for a long time.
“The first time I stepped foot in this place was nine years ago,” Allan said. “And even that was on a whim.”
“Yeah? What whim?”
“I’d gotten fired from my job. Needed a drink. Just happened to turn down the street this old bar was on. It’d been here forever even then. I remember it from when I was a kid. Not that I ever came in here and nobody I ever knew did either, but you know, going around, I’d see it.” He shrugged. “That day I found myself parking my car outside and coming in here.”
“Nine years ago today?” the old man asked.
“Yep. I was at my lowest point. Never felt worse in my life.”
“What job you get fired from?”
“Vet assistant.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t hurt the animals, did you?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I love animals. I’m married to one.”
“An animal?”
Allan laughed. “Er. No. Sorry. Sometimes, maybe.” He grinned. “I meant a veterinarian. We met right here.” He slapped the bar counter.
“Nine years ago,” the old man murmured.
“Yeah.” He stuck his hand toward the man. “Allan Baker.”
“Eugene. But everyone just calls me Gene.”
“Nice to meet you, Gene. I know it sounds corny and clichéd, but yep, we met here. I was already sitting here in this very seat, actually.”
“Did she sit where I am?”
Allan paused for a moment. Because that’s where his story could get a little dicey or at least uncomfortable. A lot more people were accepting these days, but it didn’t mean caution wasn’t wise. Still, Allan decided to be honest.
“He. And yeah, he sat where you’re sitting now.”
An explosion or derision didn’t come from Gene. He merely nodded. “Go on then.”
Bars really were the only places you could shoot the breeze with strangers, Allan thought. Or at least that had been his experience. “I don’t know what made me do it really, but when he sat down, I offered to buy him a drink.”
The guy who had just sat down next to Allan was smoking hot. Like “Hollywood star” hot. For a moment, Allan tried to place him, tried to figure out what television or movie he’d been in.
Obviously, he’d been staring at Mr. Model for too long because the guy glanced his way and smiled tentatively. And what a smile. White, straight teeth flashed out at him. He had windswept dark hair and dark eyes to match, perfectly manicured eyebrows. Just…yum.
“Is this seat taken?” Mr. Gorgeous asked.
Allan couldn’t find words, so he shook his head.
The man got the attention of the bartender, who started to come their way.
“Can I buy your drink?” Allan blurted.
Those sultry dark eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because you’re so hot, you’re scalding me.”
The man laughed at that and Allan couldn’t blame him.
Allan winced. “I know. Bad pick up line, right?”
“Pretty bad. Phillip Walton.”
Allan took the offered hand and noted how warm it was as he shook it. “Allan Baker.”
The bartender got their drinks after Allan said he was buying.
“Here’s another for you…come here often?”
Philip smiled and shook his head. “You really are terrible at this.”
“Been a bad day. Got fired.” And geez, way to make an even better impression, Allan. “That is, I’m between jobs.”
“My sympathies on getting fired. It happens to most of us at one point or another.”
“Thanks. I didn’t embezzle or anything.”
Shut up, Allan.
“Good to know,” Phillip said easily. “I just got off work myself. Challenging day.”
“Stockbroker?”
Another laugh and Allan realized Phillip had a really great laugh. “No. Do I look like one?”
“A little. I mean, you kind of have that GQ vibe going on.”
Phillip’s lips twitched. “Yeah? You look a bit like a rock star.”
It was Allan’s turn to laugh. And judging by the heat in his face, he was probably blushing, too. “Eyeliner?”
“Well, yeah, and the whole messy spiked dark hair.” Phillip picked up his drink. “Leather jacket. You almost look too young to be in this place.” He frowned. “You aren’t, are you?”
“You aren’t a cop?”
“No. But your question doesn’t reassure me.”
“I am twenty-two actually. Got the ID and everything to prove it.”
Phillip shook his head. “God, you are young.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t be that old. What are you? Thirty-five?”
“Ouch. Thirty.”
He grinned. “Anyway, not a rock star and you’re not a stockbroker. Glad we got that cleared up.”
“I’m a veterinarian actually.”
“No shit!”
“I’ve never had that reaction before.”
Allan put up his hands. “No, no. I just…I was fired from a vet’s office.”
“Seriously?”
“Completely. I guess the vet called it ‘laying off,’ but to me it’s the same thing. I didn’t get any severance or notice. They just said they couldn’t use me anymore. They were overstaffed.”
“What vet’s office?”
“Maloney.”
Phillip nodded. “I know it. I think he’s getting ready to retire, so he’s cutting back hours. Sorry to hear it didn’t work out for you. But there are other vet’s offices.”
“Sure,” Allan agreed. “But actually, no offense, it was just a job.”
“None taken. What then?”
Allan sipped thoughtfully at his drink. “Police academy?”
Gene stared at Allan. “So? You’re a police officer now?”
“Yep. Just made detective. As you can see, lost the rock-star look.”
“Pity,” Gene murmured cryptically. “So, that was it? You’ve never been apart since that night nine years ago?”
Allan laughed. “I would say that. We left the bar together, spent the night, and it went from there. About nine weeks in, we broke up.”
“Nine weeks.”
“Funny, huh? Phillip decided to move to the East Coast.”
“Just like that?”
Allan shrugged. “His family was there. Grew up there. There was a practice there going up for sale because the vet from their hometown was moving and his family talked him into returning there and taking over that practice.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“I was already at the police academy, and nah, I really didn’t want to leave. I actually thought that was the end of us.”
Allan had noticed that Gene had yet to take a single drink of the beer that had been placed in front of him. Hadn’t even once moved toward it. He doubted his story was that interesting, but maybe Gene was waiting for someone just like he was. The seat on the other side of Gene was unoccupied.
“He go?”
Allan nodded. “He did. He was an associate at the veterinarian’s office here, so it wasn’t hard for him to leave, and though we had been really having a great time, he didn’t seem particularly heartbroken to be leaving me behind.”
“Huh.”
He sounded vaguely affronted on Allan’s behalf, which went a long way to endearing the old guy to him. He wondered what Gene’s story was, anyway, and who he was waiting for.
Allan grinned. “Nine days.”
“Nine days what?”
“He lasted nine days. Then he called me to say he loved me and was coming back to California.” Allan smiled at the memory. “And yeah, we’ve been together since. Funny, we’ve got a thing about nines.”
“Apparently,” Gene said dryly.
“We got married three years ago on—”
“September 09th.”
“Yes! Told you, we’ve got this nine thing going on. I guess it’s pretty superstitious really. It was my idea to meet here tonight for our ninth anniversary. Well, you know, of when we met.”
“It’s a nice idea.” Gene smiled.
Allan looked him over. “What’s your story, Gene? How’d you know it had been nine years for me?”
“Oh, no, dear boy. I wasn’t referring to you when I spoke those words.”
“No?”
“It’s nine years ago tonight that my Robert died.” He spoke quietly as his gaze lowered and he stared once more into the beer in front of him. “We didn’t meet here like you and your Phillip. Back when we first met you couldn’t be open about that sort of thing, you see. We served together in the military. So I guess you could say my Robert was a vet, too, just a different sort.”
Allan’s chest constricted. “Wow. I-I’m sorry, Gene. God, here I’ve been rambling on about me and Phillip. I’m sorry.”
Gene waved at that. “I come here every year this time, because we did frequent this place. We lived just around the corner, so for us it was our neighborhood bar. Oh, for the longest time, we pretended to only be friends and then roommates. It wasn’t until Robert’s last few years that we were able to stop pretending.”
“I noticed you haven’t touched your beer.”
He made a face. “I don’t like beer. Never did acquire a taste for it. I’ve always been a red wine sort of man. But Robert, he liked beer. So, when I come here, that’s what I order. I don’t come here other times anymore. Reminds me too much even now.”
Tears pricked Allan’s eyes. So he was surprised when Gene reached over to pat his hand.
“Don’t be upset, Allan. Not for us. We had a very good, happy life.”
“How long were you together?”
“Nearly sixty years, if you count everything.” Gene smiled. “Maybe you and Phillip will have that many years one day.”
Allan felt foolish now for celebrating nine years of having known each other. It seemed so silly and insignificant compared to Gene and his life.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to greet his husband, who had, predictably, stopped at home to shower, and was now dressed like Mr. GQ. Some things hadn’t changed. And he was definitely still hot enough to scald Allan.
“Hi, honey. Listen, I’d like you to meet Gene.” He tugged Phillip closer. “Gene, this is my husband, Phillip.”
“Nice to meet you, Gene.” Phillip shook the man’s hand.
“Oh, you really are hot enough to scald,” Gene cracked.
Allan laughed at Phillip’s expression. “Yes, I’m afraid I’ve been pestering Gene with stories about us.”
Gene slipped off the stool with careful grace surprising for a man of his age. “There you go, Phillip. The stool is all yours.”
“You don’t have to leave on my account.”
“No, no. I’m not. My grandson’s here to pick me up for dinner. I just saw him walk into the bar.” Gene touched Allan’s arm. “I used to be married, you see. To a woman, of course. Many of us were then. You’re quite lucky in this day, Allan.”
“Yes, sir. I know.”
Allan turned to watch as Gene headed for a tall, blond-haired man, waiting for him with a smile. They walked out together, and Allan couldn’t help but think they looked sweet. They’d talked about adopting or perhaps getting a surrogate someday, him and Phillip, but it had never really gotten much further than talk.
Phillip sat on the stool Gene had vacated and gazed at him. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m good.” He smiled and reached for Phillip’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Really good. It’s nice to hear about couples lasting sixty years.”
Phillip whistled. “Sixty years? Impressive.”
“Yeah. But I guess his partner died nine years ago.” Allan sighed. “Probably the day we met.”
“Hmm. Life goes on though, doesn’t it?”
Allan arched a brow. “Meaning?”
“Almost fated that we would meet that same day, so we can continue or something.” Phillip laughed. “I don’t know. It sounded better in my head.”
He kissed Phillip softly on the lips, briefly. He didn’t linger, because the bar was friendly, but not that friendly. “Happy ninth anniversary, by the way.”
“I’m sure we’ll go another nine years.”
“Only nine more?” Allan teased.
“Of course not.”
“But in order to come here every nine years for sixty years we’ve got, um, thirteen more times to meet here.”
“Math was never your thing, was it, babe? That would be one hundred seventeen years. I doubt even we could be together that long.”
“Oh.” Allan laughed.
“It would actually be, like, five point six six six—”
“Hey, watch those evil numbers. No jinxing us.”
Phillip squeezed his hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You know, I don’t really feel much like drinking. What do you say we go have dinner and then I’ll seduce you back at home?”
Allan couldn’t slip off the bar fast enough. “That sounds completely fantastic.”
They headed for the door, then outside. Well on their way to their own sixty years.
THE END
ABOUT SHAWN LANE
Shawn Lane is a multi-published author of gay romances and believes love and passion know no bo
undaries. Happily Ever After is for everyone.
She has been published by Loose Id, Ellora's Cave, Amber Quill Press, Dreamspinner Press, and Evernight Publishing.
Shawn lives in California and holds down a boring day job in a legal department of a giant corporation dreaming of the nights and weekends when she can create new stories.
For more information, visit smlgr8.blogspot.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
Shawn Lane, The Nine Years Bar
Thanks for reading the books on GrayCity.Net