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“No, it’s about my buddy Grant. You remember him, right?”
Frank nodded. “The old guy? Comes in here sometimes to give you shit?”
“Yeah.” I grinned, thinking about the few times Grant had graced us with his presence. He gave each of us Fisher boys crap, but always me the most. “He had some sort of heart issue. He’s in the hospital.”
“Shit, is he okay? How’d you find out?”
“I saw him on the beach this morning.” I shook my head to rid myself of the mental image of him lying there unconscious. “I went with him to the hospital. They said he made it through surgery, but I really want to see him.”
“Go,” Frank said. “I can handle this.”
I shook my head. “He’s not awake. They’re going to call me as soon as he is,” I said as I rinsed out a glass and set it on the rack to air dry.
Frank came over to stand next to me. “He doesn’t have any family, right?”
“No. Just him.”
“He’ll be okay,” Frank said. “He’s a tough old bastard.”
I was thankful for his optimism but couldn’t shake the antsy feeling that had been dogging me, and I knew it wasn’t only because of Grant. The angel had me bugging out. I’d never so blatantly been hated by a woman before, and I wasn’t exactly sure how to handle it. Not that I hadn’t ever pissed off a female in the past, but I’d always known what I’d done to deserve it. When it came to this particular woman, I had no fucking clue, and it was ruining my ability to think about anything else.
“What else is eating at you?” Frank narrowed his green eyes on me, eyes that looked just like our mother’s.
I sucked in a long breath, wondering if I should tell him or not. I figured I had nothing to lose except my pride, and that was a lost cause when it came to my older brother. If there was an opportunity to tease me, he took it.
“It’s a girl.” I shrugged, not knowing exactly what to say.
I braced for the insult I suspected was coming, but never did. Dating Claudia had changed Frank, softened him, which made my life a lot easier.
Instead of giving me shit, he just asked, “What girl?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. She was the one who found Grant, but she was ice-cold toward me and it’s driving me crazy.”
Frank’s usually serious face broke into a grin. “I would have paid money to see that.” He chuckled, shaking his head at the thought. “Did you know her?”
“She didn’t look familiar, but she said she’d only been here one time.”
“Only once?” Frank’s tone was incredulous, and he wasn’t off base for feeling that way. People usually didn’t come into Sam’s one time and then never again, not unless they were tourists.
“Maybe you flirted with her and then ditched her for someone else,” he suggested, all serious again. “Or maybe she’s one of the women who thought you really liked her when you were just being you.”
Frank knew how often the latter part of his statement happened. After closing one night, he told me that women thought I was really into them and took my flirtatious nature to heart. He said that when they flirted back, they meant it, and maybe I should try to be a little less friendly.
I actually tried to take his advice for one night, but that lasted for all of about an hour. When I tried to tone things down, I hated how unnatural and uncomfortable I felt in my own skin. I was a nonsmiling, unfriendly version of myself in some stupid attempt to make sure our customers didn’t think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them. It was ridiculous, and I refused to be someone I wasn’t.
The truth was that I wasn’t even flirting, to be honest. I was simply being friendly. They were two different things, and it wasn’t my fault if everyone took my friendliness the wrong way. Or hell, maybe it was my fault. Regardless, I refused to change my behavior, and I suffered the consequences for it. Nightly.
I glanced at the time and realized our youngest brother wasn’t here yet. “Where’s Nick?”
Frank shrugged. “He had a meeting with one of the social-media companies.”
“Do you know which one?”
I asked with a grin because I knew that he had absolutely no idea. Frank didn’t understand half the shit that most people used their phones for these days. He trusted Nick to make the marketing decisions for the bar, considering he was closest in age to the majority of our patrons and had his finger on the pulse of all things up and coming.
Frank grimaced. “Snap something. Snip something? I don’t fucking know.” He groaned out his frustration like a bitter old man, and I laughed.
“Why don’t you go back in your cave and play with numbers,” I teased, and he flipped me off. Frank handled all the finances for the bar, and he used to sit in the office and work all the time. But that was before Claudia came into the picture.
