Page 18 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

“It was at The Launch Pad,” she prompts. “After Brady’s wedding reception. We were all there at the bar and my sisters dared me to?—”

“Doesn't ring a bell,” I interrupt.

Come on, Liv. I’m letting you off the hook here.

We’re trying to make this not awkward, remember?

“Ohhhh.” Her eyes widen like she’s catching on. “Right. Now that I think of it, there are no bells ringing for me either.”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Bells are overrated.”

“Totally,” she agrees.

What does that even mean?

Smooth, Hudson. Real smooth.

She averts her gaze, finally surveying the remodeled lobby. A giant stone fireplace takes up one wall with a couch and two armchairs facing the hearth. The check-in desk and Guest Services podium are across from us, and there’s a self-serve coffee station next to the hallway.

“Your brother did a great job with the place,” I say to break the silence.

“It’s very impressive.” She blows out a breath. “Mac’s always impressive.”

Another stretch of silence follows. “So you’re not in Breckenridge anymore,” I say.

Let’s hear it for Captain Obvious.

“No, I moved to Aspen a couple years ago.” Her throat reddens. “I’ve been working at this boutique resort there called Luxe. Ever heard of it?”

“Can’t say that I have, but it sounds … fancy.”

“You could say that.” She folds her arms across her chest. “My job was to sell guests on our specific brand of luxury, and things seemed to be going well, until I applied to be their chief marketing manager. I made it to the final round, but the hiring panel didn’t think I was ready.” She drops her arms. “I’d been running their ad campaigns, their website, and all their social media accounts, but apparently that worked against me. They said I’m more of an influencer than a real leader.” Her voice catches, and a sudden tightness grips my chest. I can almost taste her disappointment.

“That’s rough,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. My boss said that, too.” Olivia frowns. “She also told me I needed actual managerial experience. Experience I wasn’t getting at Luxe, so…” She takes a beat. “I left to find it somewhere else.”

“Bold move,” I say, and a flicker of admiration pulses behind my ribs. But I push it aside. I don’t want to admire Olivia.

“Bold or stupid.” She shakes her head. “Finding the right job wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. So I was at my grandma’s house trying to figure out next steps, when my mom told me the Johnsons were looking for a manager.”

“Ah.”

“I rushed over here to wow them with my state-of-the-art marketing plans, and ended up throwing myself on the floor of the lobby instead.” When she lets out a sad little snort, my heart swells just a little bit more for her.

“If the Johnsons had been hiring,” I say, “yours would’ve been the most memorable job interview by far.”

“Heh. Let’s hope.” She shoves a strand of hair off her face, and her cheeks pink up again. “Anyway, I’m probably a glutton for marketing punishment, but I was kind of looking forward to the challenge of turning this place around. Too bad you beat me to the punch.”

I’m about to admit I don’t know the first thing about marketing, when her phone starts buzzing. She slips it from the pocket of her blazer and checks the screen.

“I have to take this,” she says, moving away from me toward the registration desk. “Hi, yes … This is Olivia McCoy.”

There’s a pause.

“Ah! Thank you so much!” She wobbles in her heels again. “You have no idea how much I needed this right now.”

There’s another pause, then her face falls.

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