Hi. Grant Abbot is in town. I’m meeting him for drinks to discuss our deal. I plan to let him know as well that I’m taken these days. Speaking of taken, perhaps you can take me tonight.

She hit send. There. It wasn’t so hard taking that first step.

When she reached Speakeasy, she said hello to Julia behind the bar, then gave a quick hug to her husband, Clay, who was enjoying a scotch and chatting with his wife as she mixed drinks.

“Didn’t think we’d see you until the flight next week,” he said, since he and Julia, along with Michelle’s brother and his wife, would be sharing Nate’s plane to the Maldives.

“You know I can’t resist Speakeasy,” Casey told him, then gestured to a booth. “I’m meeting a business associate. I better go grab a spot.”

“See you soon.”

A few minutes later Grant strolled in, scanning for her, then grinning widely when he spotted her. She waved, and soon he was wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace. He was, as always, a handsome devil. And though she’d been keen on him for a year, whatever had been there was gone. She felt nothing—no spark, no zing, not even a frisson of attraction. That was good. After all, she was downright crazy for another man, and she didn’t want to feel anything for anyone but Nate.

Even so, she felt a bit like a first-class jerk knowing she was about to break up with the guy before they’d even started.

“Such a delight to see you again,” he said, and then slid into the booth. He signaled a waiter, ordered a vodka, then shot her a smile once more. He’d always been an outgoing guy, but oddly enough he seemed less flirty this time, and more . . . friendly. As they chatted about their deal, she noticed his innuendo was gone, and he was simply being straightforward.

Which was exactly what she needed to be with him.

“Grant, I’m so glad you’re here and that everything is all set for our rollout. I do need to be upfront though about the other matters we talked about in New Orleans—the possibility of us getting together,” she began, keeping her voice as business-like and cordial as she could.

He held up a hand to stop her, shaking his head, and grinning.

“Actually, I need to be direct with you too. And I need to say I’m sorry if I led you on,” he said, his Southern charm shining through in his tone. But the words surprised her.

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean, Grant?”

He took a deep breath. “You see, I have a natural tendency to be flirty, and I should truly curb that habit. I’ve been told, in fact, that I’m too much of a flirt. I would never cross the line with a business partner, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I made you think otherwise in New Orleans. I remain, as ever, completely committed to our business deal. But I wanted to make it abundantly clear that I should not have been trafficking in so much innuendo that evening. Do forgive me.”