Page 51 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

Yeah. I’d like to put her in a dunk tank.

While Olivia gets to work, shifting her focus to her computer, I try to force my brain away from mental images of her in a bathing suit. Grabbing my phone, I decide to send a few texts that will cool my jets.

I start by replying to a message from Mac. He reached out earlier to see how we’re doing, and I haven’t responded to him yet. I figure there’s nothing like Olivia’s brother to make me stop picturing her in a bikini.

HUDSON

Hey, Mac. Thanks for checking in to see how things are going here. So far, so good. At this point, I’m really hopeful and excited about the reopening. Fingers crossed the new Beachfront will be a success. And in case your sister didn’t tell you, allow me to confirm she’s been amazing.

I hit send at the same time I realize I circled right back to Olivia. So I try again, this time with a text to the Johnsons.

HUDSON

Hey, Mr. and Mrs. J. What do you think about potentially changing the name of the pub? Everyone’s called it the pub for so long, you may not want to pivot. And that’s totally fine. Olivia was just wondering if we might want something more punchy when we reopen.

Annnnd great. Now I’m thinking about Olivia again. Everything keeps drawing me back to her. So I try one last text.

HUDSON

Hey, Dad. My final paycheck from Blaine & Co. auto-deposited, and it looked a little high. You giving out some kind of bonus for employees who leave now? Either way, thanks for the support. I tried calling Mom the other day, but she didn’t —

I stop, back up, and delete that last part. Then I add this instead:

I’m bad at saying it, but I really do appreciate you, Dad.

“Everything all right?” Olivia asks.

I hit send, and set down my phone. “Sure. Why?”

“It’s just …” Her chin tips. “You looked kind of serious just now.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind.” I blow out a breath. “But I’ll be fine.”

She offers a small, sympathetic smile. “I get it. I’m excited about the reopening too, but I’m also a little nervous.”

“Nervous and excited,” I say. “Yeah. That’s exactly it."

I’m also not looking forward to saying goodbye to you.

Chapter Nineteen

Olivia

Sunday night, I arrive at the pub just before sunset, and my cousins are already at the door, shuffling their feet, waiting to be let in.

Man, I love my family.

As instructed, they came dressed for a casual night out. The girls are in sandals and cute skirts, and the guys are wearing fitted shirts and worn-in jeans. “We’re only missing Natalie and Brady,” I say. “They texted that they’re running a few minutes late.”

Three eyes the pizza boxes in my arms. “If I’m going to end up dancing in a TikTok video tonight, one of those better be pepperoni and olive.”

Ford shoots him a look of horror. “Olive is a disgusting topping. It’s been mathematically proven.”

“Oh, yeah?” Three socks him in the shoulder. “And what exactly was your math score on the SAT?”

“I’m too smart for standardized tests,” Ford says. “And the only topping that makes showing up on Instagram or Facebook worthwhile is pineapple. Obviously.”

“Ewwww.” Lettie shoves Ford from the other side. He’s her brother, so she can get away with it. “Fruit has no place on a pizza,” she says.

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