Guy Hater (Fisher Brothers 2)

We were lucky to have found Bradley, or that Bradley found us. I’d never really gotten to know my real father, and Bradley treated me like I was his own. As I grew older, I became more and more grateful for him, realizing that he chose to be in our lives. He didn’t have to stick around for an immigrant wife and stepdaughter, a child that wasn’t technically his, but I’d never felt unloved or unwanted in his home, two things that were important in any young girl’s upbringing.

At Britney’s frustrated glare, I burst out laughing. “Of course I’m coming. What kind of wingwoman would I be if I didn’t accompany you on your mission to bag this Ryan character?”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I owe you.” She jumped up and down before pulling me into her arms for a quick hug.

“You say that a lot. I think you owe me a Mercedes by now,” I teased. “Or a house in Malibu.”

“If I land Ryan freaking Fisher, I’ll buy you whatever the hell you want,” she said with a huge grin. “I mean, you might not get it until we’re eighty, but still, I’ll come through in the end.”

I had liked Britney from the moment I first met her at work, charmed by the smile that brightened her face. She always laughed instead of complaining, which made her fun to be with.

Our bond was solidified during lunch one day when we discussed the cost of living at the beach versus the suburbs. I confessed that I wanted to move closer to the water, but I couldn’t afford it on my own. She suggested moving in together, and I only balked at the idea of having a roommate again for about two seconds. Living alone had been isolating and lonely, and I wanted to love where I lived. And I didn’t love living in Burbank, surrounded by couples with growing famil

ies while I was still very annoyingly single.

It was the best decision I’d made in years. Britney and I moved into our apartment in Venice three months later.

Shaking my head, I told her to go get dressed and headed to my room to do the same. No matter how many times I’d tried to convince Britney that Ryan’s flirting was simply his way of being good at his job, she refused to believe me. She insisted there was something more between them and accused me of being cynical.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. I was a little jaded when it came to love and guys in this town, but that had nothing to do with my opinion about bartenders. Being charming and flirtatious was part of their job description. How nice and fun they were affected their livelihood. I equated it to the way female strippers flirted with their male clientele for better tips and repeat business. The majority of male bartenders did the same. I didn’t blame or begrudge them that in any way. I simply didn’t want my roommate falling head over heels for some guy who just flirted with her for better tips.

Hell, maybe I was overly cynical.

It wasn’t like the guy couldn’t prove me wrong. If he really liked Britney, I was certain I’d be able to tell just by looking at him.

Wednesday Nights

Frank

Nick and Ryan took care of the bar patrons while I went over our books in the back office. As I tallied this week’s take so far, I was pleased to see how much the numbers had improved since Nick had joined us. It was nice having our youngest brother officially a part of Sam’s now.

After graduating from State, Nick had gone to work for our father, not that Dad had given him much of a choice in the matter. The father that Nick had grown up with was totally different from the dad who’d raised Ryan and me, and we had a hard time reconciling that fact until it was thrown in our faces. Dad had changed after becoming successful, turning into someone Ryan and I didn’t recognize . . . or like.

As a result, Nick was forced to live through some over-the-top drama that should never happen to anyone. I wouldn’t have believed any of it if I hadn’t witnessed it firsthand. Thankfully, our dad eventually pulled his head out of his ass, let Nick out of his contract, and became a normal human being again. He and our mom even hung out here on the weekends sometimes, which was a huge shock at first, but was sort of cool now. I loved having all my family together.

As soon as he was free, Nick had immediately bought into the bar as an equal partner with Ryan and me. I never realized just how much I loved those two knuckleheads until we were all together, working side by side every day. I hadn’t really grown up with Nick since he was ten years younger than me, only eight years old when I’d left for Arizona to play baseball. Ryan and I were closer, but that’s because we were only a few years apart.

I couldn’t imagine running a business with anyone else, couldn’t imagine being related to anyone else. They were both insane, mostly Ryan, but I loved them anyway.

A knock at the door made me pause in the middle of the note I was scribbling in the corner of my handwritten ledger. I still did some things the old-fashioned way, writing ideas and taking notes by hand instead of putting them into the computer. Something about doing it this way made it feel more authentic.

Or maybe it was simply more my style. That was probably more like it.

“Come in,” I called out without looking up.

“Sorry to bother you, brother, but do we have any more Grey Goose?”

Nick stood in the doorway as I pointed toward the stacks of boxes containing vodka to my left. His jet-black hair was like mine, but his blue eyes were the exact same shade as Ryan’s. It tripped me out sometimes when I looked at them.

“Ah, I see it. Thanks.” The glass bottles clanked as he freed what he was looking for and closed the office door behind him.

My brothers knew that when I was in the office, I was handling a part of the business neither one of them wanted to tackle—the finances. They left me alone, for the most part, and I was grateful for it.

I never stayed in the office for long during the evenings when the bar was busy. Our bar was popular, and contrary to popular belief, I liked being a part of it. Most people assumed that I would rather stay in the back and not speak to anyone, but that wasn’t true. I enjoyed tending bar when the guys needed my help, and was fascinated by watching the way people interacted with one another. I was an observer, always watching, but that didn’t mean I never wanted to come out and play.

Stepping through the office door and into the bar, I scanned the area. Ryan was grinning like an idiot at some girl who was grinning back at him just as big, and Nick was busy ringing up a tab.

Of the three of us, Ryan was the only unattached one. Nick had met his girlfriend, Jess, during his last year at State. Their relationship had weathered some nasty storms, but we were all thankful they’d made it through and stayed together. Nick and Jess were solid, and anytime she showed up at the bar, he would make some ridiculous announcement to the entire place before very publicly molesting her. It always caused half the girls in the bar to swoon out loud and the other half to groan.