Page 67 of That Time I Kissed My Beachfront Boss

“Not to mention,” I blurt—definitely not smooth—“Every cashier at the Five and Dime is going to suggest a new name for the pub. They all want to win that overnight stay.”

Olivia nods, slowly. “Let’s hope.”

“It was a great idea. The dunk tank too.”

“Hmm.” Her cheeks start to pink up, and I wonder if she’s having second thoughts about being publicly dunked all day long.

“Hey.” I duck my head, waiting for her to make eye contact again. “Are you worried about the tank? Because I’ll take your place, no problem.” I pitch my shoulders. “Former lifeguard, remember? I’m used to sitting on platforms in a wet bathing suit.”

“No.” She’s quiet for a long moment. “The tank was my idea, and I’ll definitely follow through.” She blows out a breath. “I guess I’m just not used to being taken seriously, so I don’t know how to react when you tell me I’m doing a good job.” She clears her throat. “I’m kind of uncomfortable with praise.”

My heart squeezes for her. How can this woman not know her worth? “Your time at Luxe really did a number on you, huh?” I ask softly.

“That’s not it.” She shakes her head. “I was actually pretty confident in Colorado.” She glances out at the lake, then turns back toward me. “It’s Abieville that makes me question myself. It reminds me of being in Apple Valley and how I felt back then.”

Whoa.

Those are the two places where Olivia’s surrounded by her family. But she’s always seemed so happy around them. And I thought they supported her. “Why?” I grit my teeth as a flash of protectiveness splits my chest. “Does your family put you down or something?”

“No, no, no.” Her forehead creases. “I mean, my sisters and I tease each other. Mac does too. But it’s just a sibling thing, you know?”

“Actually, I don’t.” I shove a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth to mask the heaving in my gut. “Well, how I feel isn’t anybody else’s fault.” Olivia says. “I only have myself to blame.” She wraps a napkin around her cone to stop the drips, then looks across the table at me directly. “My less-than-stellar reputation is entirely on me.”

“Hold on.” I squint across the table. “Less-than-stellar reputation? That doesn’t sound at all like you.”

She shrugs. “You didn’t know me when I was a kid. And this thing happened a long time ago. Back in eighth grade, to be specific. But the memory came up again in a family group chat the other day, and it crosses my mind every now and then.”

“What thing?”

“A stupid survey about my sisters and me.” She drops her gaze to her waffle cone. “It wasn’t official. Just this handmade list on a piece of notebook paper. It probably started out with one kid, and got passed around until somebody decided to tally up the votes and tape it to the wall of the cafeteria. When we came in for lunch, everyone crowded around reading the survey, laughing. I walked up, and they laughed even harder.” She lifts her gaze to meet mine. “It was a bunch of superlatives,” she continues. “You know the kind that gets published in a yearbook? Best hair. Most popular. That kind of thing. Only these were specific to Darby, me, and Tess.” She blinks, and I imagine the memory flashing in her brain like it happened yesterday. “Darby got voted the smartest triplet and most likely to succeed. No surprise there.” Olivia puffs out a breath. “Tess won funniest and friendliest by a landslide. Also not surprising.”

I tip my head. “What about you?”

She pushes out a sigh. “I was voted least competent, and most likely to die first in a zombie apocalypse.” She forces out a small half-hearted laugh. “It’s actually kind of funny, now that I’m an adult. But at the time it was mortifying.”

“Teenagers are stupid.” I say this, but I have the ridiculous urge to jump back in time to defend her.

Against a bunch of eighth-graders.

“What I did afterward was even stupider.” She offers me a rueful smile. “It was so stupid, I never told anyone. Not even Tess and Darby.”

“Wow.” I draw in a long breath, then offer her a small nod of support. “You don’t have to share, but I’m listening if you want to.”

She hops up and tosses the last bit of her cone in the trash. Then she sits again, resting her elbows on the table. “Darby tore down the survey and insisted the whole thing was idiotic. Tess was sweetly protective, telling me all three of us were smart and friendly. I pretended to shrug it off. But the truth is, they both got labeled things to be proud of, and I was just a joke to everybody. By the end of the week, it was still eating away at me. So I sneaked a new survey onto the wall of the cafeteria. It was one I made up entirely myself, adding fake tally marks as votes.”

“Oof.”

“I know. Pretty cringey.” She frowns. “My new survey said that Olivia McCoy was … the prettiest triplet.” She winces, and the base of her throat blooms red.

“Okay. That’s not so terrible.”

She lets out a sad little snort. “Did you miss the part where it was a fake survey?”

“You were just a kid.”

“Yeah, and my pathetic plan worked, at least at first.” She tips her chin. “The power of suggestion is insanely strong. And since the students thought the survey was real, they suddenly all wanted to be in Olivia McCoy’s inner circle. That’s when my popularity shot way up, but for all the wrong reasons. I was being a jerk. Not to mention superficial. And also inaccurate, considering my sisters and I are identical. That’s why prettiest wasn’t even a category in the original survey. I mean, we look exactly alike.”

I set my spoon down instead of telling her she’s the most beautiful one in her entire family by far. “I’m not saying what you did was right, but you didn’t start it.”

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