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“Hey, don’t knock the eighties metal scene’s biggest mode of transportation. That van is a classic.”
“That van looks like it should be on the six o’clock news for prowling through neighborhoods.”
“Point taken, but it’s all about presentation. It’s not the creeper van.” Milo lifted his hands like he was revealing a banner. “It is Hal’s Party Van! Get to and from your summer night festivities in the fun van!”
“That van looks anything but fun,” Harper said.
“He’s going to string up a few strands of lights, and the real selling point—groups of three or more get a free appetizer voucher for McConnell’s Pub.”
“Supporting local businesses. That’s very noble of you.”
“Connor and I came up with the idea one night when I was pigging out on nachos. I figure once they start eating, they won’t be able to stop, so they’ll order more, and Connor will make more of a profit than if they just drank all night.”
“Look at you becoming a smart businessman.” He always had it in him. Milo was made for much bigger things. If it wasn’t for the accident, he would have been a starting pitcher for the Major League. The accident stripped him of his chance, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other things he couldn’t accomplish.
Everyone questioned his business venture, but he did well—when he actually charged people—and now he was expanding.
He straightened. “If you want to make flyers or business cards, I’d be more than happy to hand them out to the out-of-towners.” It was a nice idea, but nobody coming to Morgan’s Bay would want to take a paint class.
“That’s a great idea,” Olivia said. “You should definitely whip something up. I can help you if you want. I also think you need to get on social media and start promoting yourself and your business.” Olivia would think that, having been a social media and marketing specialist for several years before everything imploded on her and she came back to Morgan’s Bay.
Harper waved her hand, dismissing Milo and Olivia’s suggestion. “Those people are here for the beaches and to drink.” Painting would be the last thing on their minds. It would be a waste of ink and paper.
“Yes, but you can’t go to the beaches when it’s raining.” Milo grabbed her shoulder. “Remember summer as kids? Rainy days were the pits. Never been so bored in my life.”
Harper tilted her head and angled her gaze at Milo. “Who are you fooling? Rain has never stopped you. May I remind you of the rain Olympics you created junior year?” It was an epic all-day event that kept them entertained for weeks after.
Milo laughed. “That was fun! And I still think I should’ve gotten the gold for lawn backstroke.”
“Nolan beat you by a mile!”
Isla’s eyes darted down at Nolan’s name, but Harper pretended not to notice.
“Yes, but my performance was a work of art.”
Harper laughed at the memory. Milo had turned his backstroke on the front lawn into more of a synchronized swimming routine while Nolan hauled ass, using his legs to slide effortlessly to the finish line. It was only a month before the accident and the long recovery. Harper preferred to remember that summer as only the rain Olympics, nothing else. Milo in a hospital bed was something nightmares were made of.
Harper took the last sip of her lemon ginger tea. “Too bad the competition was based on speed and not performance.”
“Technicality.” He grabbed his chest. “In my heart, I know who the real winner was that day.”
Annabelle came over and smiled at Milo. “Hey there, stranger,” she said. “Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll take a coffee to go.”
“You got it, sweetheart.” Annabelle turned away and headed to the coffeepot.
“You’re not staying?” Harper asked.
“I have to pick up Ms. Wheeler and bring her to her eye doctor appointment in thirty minutes.”
“Don’t be late.” Isla hid a smile behind her mug.
“Exactly why I’m getting my coffee to go. I saw your car in the parking lot, so just wanted to stop in and catch up on my girl talk.”
“Except you immediately dodged girl talk,” Olivia pointed out.
“I was looking for gossip, not horror stories of down under.”
