Adios Pantalones (Fisher Brothers 3)

“I took her home.”

Although I was still confused, I nodded, then hurried through making Claudia and Britney’s drinks. Once I’d handed all three to Frank so he could deliver them, I turned my attention to Gra

nt while I made the drink he swore he’d never drink again.

As I measured, I glanced up at him. “Thought you didn’t want one of these next time.”

He mimicked me, repeating my words like a middle-schooler. When I didn’t react, he growled, “You want me to tell you about the angel or not?”

My back stiffened. Grant knew damn well that I wanted to know everything, but dividing my time between him and our customers proved to be harder than I’d hoped. It was a Friday night, after all, and the bar was packed.

“Hold that thought, old man. I’ll be right back.” I moved away before abruptly stopping and facing him again. “Don’t disappear on me.”

His hands up in the air, he gave me a nod, a silent promise before tapping his wrist. Apparently, he was on limited time.

After making cocktails for a group of giggling women, I headed back to Grant with a Guy Hater in hand and slid it toward him.

“This place is a damn madhouse,” he grumbled before taking a sip. “At least the drinks are decent.”

“Gee, thanks.” I pretended to sound bored at his weak compliment.

Grant glared at me. “Stop whining and give me your ear for more than five seconds.”

Leaning down, my elbows on the bar between us, I looked him dead in the eye and gave him an expectant look.

“So, what happened earlier?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” I had no fucking idea what he was talking about.

Grant frowned and took another sip of his drink. “Well, you must have done something to piss her off.”

Blinking at him in confusion, I scratched my head. “I didn’t do anything. I just looked up and you guys were gone.”

“Yeah, well, one second she was fine, and the next she couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

“You said you drove her home,” I said, and he nodded. “She didn’t tell you why she was upset?”

“She only mentioned something about you being exactly the kind of guy she thought you were. I tried to get her to tell me more, but she wouldn’t. She’s hiding something, and I thought that when I picked her up, I’d figure out what it was, But I still have no idea. She’s a tough nut to crack, that one.” Grant finished off his drink and shoved his empty glass toward me.

“Want another?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Look, I have no idea what upset her.”

Honestly, I hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary while Sofia was here. As a matter of fact, I was so aware of her presence, I’d consciously made sure I didn’t do anything that could make her think I was interested in any other woman in the room.

Grant grunted. “I don’t know either, but I wouldn’t bet on her coming back here. I tried to put in a good word for you.”

“You tried?”

“Yeah, of course I tried. I talked you up, and I swore she was thinking that you were a good guy there for a minute.”

“Wow, a whole minute?” I winced at how pathetic that was.

He leaned closer over the bar, lowering his voice. “It’s longer than she ever thought you were a decent guy before.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I’m on your side, you know.” He tried to smack me upside the head, but I ducked out of the way.

“Sure sounds like it.” I pulled the towel from my back pocket and wiped down the bar top out of habit.