Page 19 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

“I can’t wait until the weekend,” she groans. “I’ve been borrowing my mom’s clothes for three days already. I need my luggage now.” She darts her eyes at me, and my gaze sweeps down to the oversized blazer and skirt.

Her mom’s clothes. That explains the fit.

“No, no, no.” She starts to pace. “I can’t come to the airport. I’ve been driving my uncle’s truck since I got here, and I’m not sure it’s even freeway safe. Don’t you have someone who can deliver the bags you lost any sooner?”

Another pause while she listens.

When she chews her lip, protectiveness ripples through my torso, but I remind myself this isn’t my problem. My problem is that I get too involved. Then I don’t know what to do with the emotions.

You’re always one slippery slope away from caring, man.

“Fine.” She huffs out a sigh. “I’ll pick up the luggage myself.”

If I did care, I’d be tempted to grab the phone and give the customer service rep a piece of my mind. But whoever’s on the line isn’t the one who lost Olivia’s luggage. And she’s got this under control.

She doesn’t need me.

“Thanks anyway,” she says. “Bonus miles would be great. I appreciate that.” She ends the call and looks up at me, brow creased. “I have to go,” she says. “Good luck with everything here. But don’t worry. My underwear and I will stay far away from you forever.”

“Wait.” I glance out the window in the direction of the parking lot. “Will you be okay getting to the airport in your uncle’s truck?”

“I’ll be fine.” She shrugs. “One of my cousins can probably take me.”

“Well, there are a lot of you in this town.”

“Blessing and a curse, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. “There aren’t too many Blaines.”

“Huh. Wherever I go, I’m pretty much crowded by family.”

I duck my head. “A crowd of family sounds kind of nice to me.”

Olivia meets my gaze, holding it for a moment. Then she pulls truck keys from her other pocket, shutting down the conversation. “Anyway, I’d better go.”

“You sure you don’t need a ride?”

“No, thanks, Hudson.” Her eyes flash, and she lifts her chin. “I don’t hate you, it’s just … I’m not interested.”

Well, well, well.

Touché, Ms. McCoy.

You might be even tougher than I thought.

Chapter Seven

Olivia

The minute I get back from the airport, I change into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top that actually fits, then I hunker down in Big Mama’s sewing room to FaceTime my former roommates. Sutton and Naomi jockey for space on the screen while I update them on the punchline of my life. I hate admitting defeat, but the time has come to stop scrambling and accept reality.

The truth is, I was too hasty. I quit Luxe without a lead on a manager’s job, then I pivoted to Breckenridge hoping one of my former contacts would want to hire me. When that didn’t work, I fled to Abieville where I broke the final straw, rushing to The Beachfront to slap a Band-Aid on the severed artery of my dreams.

“Bottom line,” I say, wrapping up the story of my abject failure, “I’m going to swallow my pride, and hope Francine lets me pick up where I left off at Luxe.”

“Oof.” Naomi creases her forehead. “You think she’ll take you back?”

I blow out a long breath. I’m like a rejected boomerang, waving my white flag of surrender. “I’ll beg if I have to. But I’m done crossing my fingers that something better will come along. Francine was right. I should’ve just stuck with the bird in the hand …”

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