Page 4 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

I’m always the one gently telling men, “No, thank you.” But the tables have turned, and I just got shot down by a guy I threw myself at. A guy I thought was connecting with me. Feeling the kiss. Loving the moment too.

Not so much.

At least Hudson’s leaving Abieville, so I won’t have to run into him when I come back for Christmas, or the next family wedding or birthday or …

“I’m so sorry,” I repeat, pressing a hand to my highly combustible cheeks. “I should’ve picked truth.”

“Okay.” Hudson rubs a hand over the scruff at his chin. “I don't know what you’re talking about, but truth is usually a good idea.”

I mumble something at him that sounds like “Ack,” then I turn and offer the rest of the men a crisp salute. “Well, then, I’ll just bid you all adieu,” I say.

Adieu?

Totally normal.

Spinning on a heel, I march back to the table where Darby and Tess are waiting for me. Their jaws are unhinged. They obviously saw how bad that was, so I don’t need to explain the humiliation. What I need is an exit plan. I’ll borrow my Uncle Phil’s truck and drive straight to the airport. Catch the red-eye. Never return.

“Oh, Liv,” Tess groans, slapping a hand over her mouth.

“I know. Hudson completely rejected me,” I choke. “That was beyond horrifying. Let’s never speak of this again.”

“You’ve got a deal.” Darby nods. “Except for one more thing.”

“What now?”

She winces. “The back of your dress is tucked into your underwear.”

Chapter Two

Two Years Later

Olivia

“Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.” My boss, Francine Tomlin, steeples her fingers on her glass-topped desk. I don’t think she’s blinked since I entered her office. Her fake lashes are probably too heavy.

“Of course. I’m always here for you.” I send her a warm smile, then take a deep breath to steady my nerves. The turquoise skies and tree-dotted mountains in the window behind her remind me of my purpose. I show guests what’s possible in Aspen, and make a crucial difference in their experience. They come to Luxe based on the promise of seasonal fun and fanfare.

I offer them all that and more.

“Olivia.” Francine darts her eyes at the clock, then back to me. “I’d like to start by saying everyone at Luxe thinks you’ve got real potential.”

“I love to hear that,” I tell her. As a bead of perspiration trickles down my neck, I focus on the goal dangling before me like a carrot. All my efforts are about to pay off.

Never let ’em see you sweat.

“When our CEO tasked us with turning Luxe into a place that would stand out among Aspen’s other five-star resorts,” Francine continues, “I wasn’t sure that would be possible. Or even advisable.” She tips her chin. “After all, our team didn’t want to merely copy other places.”

“Yes, and that’s what’s been so great about working at Luxe,” I tell her. “I’ve tried to establish a unique brand of elegance mixed with a down-to-earth vibe.”

“And you’ve certainly done that,” Francine says. “Our rooms are fully booked through June, and we’ve got a wait-list at the spa.”

My heart beats faster. “Well, my dream is to advance my career here at Luxe, which is why I was thrilled you decided to create a management position focused on marketing.” I lean forward, wiping my damp palms on my pencil skirt. “And I promise, you won’t regret taking a chance on?—”

“It’s a no,” Francine interrupts.

“No?” I wheeze.

“No,” she repeats.

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