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“As friends of course,” she added, hoping it didn’t sound like she was trying to cover up when he didn’t immediately respond.
“Maybe after I settle in,” he said, and Olivia sighed a breath of relief.
“Who are you fooling?” Milo asked. “The last time I saw you drink a milkshake was in tenth grade before everything became empty calories that’ll make your ass fat.”
Olivia cut Milo a look, not that it would deter him. “For your information, for the last six months I have worked with one of the best personal trainers—who also works with some very famous clientele—to get my ass in check, and he told me I’m allowed cheat days.”
And after the disastrous night she just had, she had many cheat meals in her future.
Milo followed the traffic circle and took the last exit for Harbor Hill Lane. The closer she got to her childhood home, the heavier her heart was. She’d made a promise to herself a long time ago that she would get out of this town. Going back at twenty-five was not part of her plan, and she couldn’t help but feel like a complete and total failure.
Unfortunately, with little to no savings, thanks to one too many shopping sprees, this was her only option. She’d bounce back. There was no way she was staying in this town longer than she had to.
Milo pulled up to the house—an 1840’s farmhouse with brown, weathered shingles and a light blue door. A white picket fence surrounded the property.
“Thank you for riding with me on this lovely evening. My name is Milo Amato, and it has been my pleasure to be your driver.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Needs work before tourist season starts.”
“Damn, thought I had it.”
The front door opened, and embarrassment flared red hot in Olivia’s cheeks. The outside light turned on, highlighting Dad as he stepped out in a white undershirt tucked into a pair of wide opened jeans and the band of his tighty-whities. On his feet were a pair of green monster slippers that her niece had picked out for his Christmas gift. Olivia never thought he’d actually wear them, but there he was, standing in the doorway, hand on his head, squinting toward the car. His other arm he held Olivia’s fur brother, John Andre, who her father named after the British Spy. According to Dad, the Yorkie had charmed his way into their lives.
“Olivia is that you?” Dad called out, his voice muffling against the closed window but still loud and very clear. As a history teacher, he had a way of making his voice project across any space.
Fresh air seeped into the car, and Olivia turned to see Milo rolling the window down. “Hi, Mr. Green,” Milo called out. “Love your slippers.”
The heat in Olivia’s cheeks exploded, fiery trails shooting down her neck and into her chest.
“Milo Amato, is that you?”
“Sure is!”
“Thank you for giving my daughter a ride.”
“Anytime, Mr. Green.”
Okay that was enough. Olivia jumped out of the car, using her body to block Shane’s view of Dad’s fashion faux paus. “Hi, Dad. You can go back in. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Do you need money to pay Milo?”
“No, Dad. I already took care of it.”
“Did you tip him?”
Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose, attempting to ward off a headache. “Dad, I got it!”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Olivia tried her hardest not to snap. She loved her father, but sometimes he tested her patience. “I’ll be right in,” she called over her shoulder. “Please go inside,” she mumbled under her breath. Olivia turned around, hoping to all that was holy that Dad wasn’t waiting for her in the doorway.
She sighed in relief when she spotted his retreating frame.
Milo reached down and popped the trunk. “You got your bag, right?”
“I’ll get it,” Shane offered, and Olivia bit back a smile as Shane got out of the car. Luckily Dad had gone back in the house with John Andre.
“Look at that, Milo.” Olivia bent down to the window. “A real gentleman.”
