Page 40 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

That night I learned my father was mostly a means to an end for her, bankrolling her dreams, paying off galleries until she built a name for herself. And she did. Slowly at first—then her reputation exploded. She was celebrated everywhere as a queen of innovation. Galleries all over Europe wanted to showcase Vivian Blaine.

Berlin. London. Barcelona. Amsterdam.

It was only a matter of time before she left us.

“Hey, Mom,” I begin in my message. “Just checking in to see how you’re doing. I saw that your latest exhibit in Paris was a success. I still can’t draw a stick figure, but hey. We can’t all have your talent.” I force out a chuckle, keeping my tone casual, until I imagine her telling me she’s not that kind of artist.

I know, Mom. I know.

“Speaking of talent, I had dinner tonight with someone who reminds me a little of you. We work together. She’s really smart and capable. She’s got something to prove, that’s for sure.”

This is what I say. But what I’m thinking is, I like Olivia. A lot. Too bad nothing can ever come of it, or of any relationship, because I always walk away to protect my heart.

Yeah.

“Anyway, I saw you started investing in up-and-coming talent, helping out the next generation of young artists. That sounds pretty cool. I’d love to hear more about it if you have the chance. I know the time difference is rough, though. What is it there, now … like, five o’clock? No wonder I got your voicemail. You’re probably sleeping.” A sigh slips out of me now. Not a chuckle.

“One of these days I’ll remember to add six hours before I try to call you. But before I go, I saw your Venmo. It was really generous. Thanks a lot, but turning twenty-nine’s no big deal. Next year though … Well. Yeah. Thanks for remembering. Good night. Or good morning. Or … goodbye, Mom.”

I end the call and sit in silence for a while. I’m feeling wiped out, so I’m glad I replied to the rest of my messages first. They were from people who care enough to reach out. They sent me actual words. Not money on an app.

And I don’t take them for granted.

Teller had even offered to drive to Abieville and take me out. But I’ve got limited time before the grand reopening, and I can’t afford to lose a day feeling wrecked after a night out with Teller.

Instead I talked him into booking a weekend here with Winnie sometime next month. That’ll be fun, I guess. If you like being a third wheel.

Still, being single is better than settling for a relationship that isn’t based on real love, and my barometer for that is broken.

I grew up watching my mom use my dad. I let Jacqueline use me as an adult. Even now, Olivia’s got something to gain from me. When she leaves here, I’ll be her most recent reference. Not that I think her friendliness isn’t genuine. But still. This job is a means to an end for her.

I’m a means to an end.

I’m about to head inside and get to bed when a text comes in from Olivia. Speak of the devil. It’s like she was channeling my thoughts.

OLIVIA

Thanks again for dinner. I really love the library idea, and I really loved the burger. Not necessarily in that order. Sorry we got hijacked by my cousins.

HUDSON

No problem. Thanks for all the ways you’re trying to improve the inn. And for the record, our dinner was the highlight of my day.

OLIVIA

Good. As long as you know, I’m not a princess. I still say we could’ve gotten pizza.

My thumbs hover over the keyboard. And without thinking any further, I dash off another text.

HUDSON

Full disclosure: Today was my birthday. So. I just felt like splurging.

Response bubbles leapfrog on my screen. I briefly consider unsending the message. But it’s too late. She’s obviously already seen it.

HUDSON

Did I just make things awkward?

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