“I just agreed to file suit to get back the company my now ex-partner and ex-girlfriend stole from me.”

“I’d say that warrants a midday drink.” Grant rooted around in a kitchen cabinet and produced a bottle of whiskey. “Will this do the trick?”

“Bring it, brother.”

Grant poured several fingers worth in a short glass and handed it to Adam.

“Join me so I’m not drinking alone?”

“Not today. Not when I’m finally getting back to work.”

“Fine. Be that way.” Adam downed the shot in one big gulp, feeling it burn its way through his insides.

“More?”

“In a minute maybe.”

“So what gives with the company?”

Even though he hadn’t come here to talk to Grant about that, he told him anyway. And when he was done, Grant reached for Adam’s glass, poured him another shot and pushed it toward him on the counter.

Adam tipped his head back and downed it.

“Feel better?”

“Surprisingly, yes, I do. Sorry to unload on you when you’ve got enough of your own shit going on.”

“Trust me, I’d much rather focus on your shit than mine.”

“You know… The McCarthy brother bartending skills work both ways. Whenever you’re ready to talk about it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Adam nodded as his stomach tightened with the realization that it was now or never on the subject of Abby. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about if you have another minute,” Adam said, diving in before he could rethink his way out of having this conversation in the first place.

“What’s that?”

“Abby.”

Grant’s brows furrowed with confusion. “What about her?”

“We ran into each other on the ferry yesterday and unloaded on each other about our ugly breakups. Then I ran into her again last night when I was out looking for you.” Adam didn’t bother to mention that he’d dragged her out of a bar and spent the night in her hotel room. Some details were better left unmentioned.

“So?”

“So I kind of like her. I like talking to her, and she gets what I’m dealing with. I was wondering if you’d have a problem if I hang out with her.”

This time Grant’s brows narrowed in obvious annoyance. “Define ‘hang out.’”

“Do I really have to?”

“Yeah, I think you do.”

“You know, hang out… and stuff.”

“That clears it right up. Are you asking me if I mind if you have a fling or whatever it’s called with my ex-girlfriend?”

“Ah, sort of. Yeah.”

“Hell, yes, I mind! She’s not like that. She doesn’t fool around with random guys and then move on to the next one.”