Page 10 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

Seeing her suddenly all businesslike, it’s clear how she’s been able to juggle this enterprise on her own. Shame hits me again—why did I allow self-limiting thoughts to convince me I couldn’t accomplish something like this? It seems like Maisie just figures things out. I could probably do that, too.

“Perfect. Can you start Friday? I won’t be in, but I’ll have the other worker show you the ropes.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you so much for the opportunity.” I take a deep breath. “Honestly, I can’t tell you how excited I am.”

“Me too,” Maisie says kindly. “It’s always a pleasure to find others who love this town as much as I do. And you’re a book lover to boot! It’s kismet.”

I grin, standing and reaching out to shake her hand again. “Thanks again. I’ll see you tomorrow to complete those documents.”

I stare straight ahead when I head toward the front of the bookstore, hoping to avoid further conversation with Oliver.

I hear his baritone at my back as I pass. “How’d it go?”

God, he’s annoying. Now he wants to make friendly chit-chat? I whirl to face him. “It was fine,” I say in what I hope is a measured tone.

“So does that mean you’ll be working here?” He lays his pen down and surveys me with an expression I can’t quite read.

Given his general demeanor, I assume I was correct earlier that he’d prefer I not get the job, so I shoot him my most charming grin. “Sure will.”

He nods. “Cool. I’ll ask Maisie when she wants me to train you.”

I think my jaw must be on the engineered hardwood floor. “I’m sorry, what?”

Oliver tilts his head. “I’m going to ask Maisie⁠—”

“No, no,” I interrupt him. “Why would you be training me?”

“Oh,” he says slowly, leaning back in his seat. “Did I not mention that I work here?”

What in God’s name have I done? “You most certainly did not,” I return coolly. Is he the other person she mentioned? Jesus.

Now he smiles, reaching his elbows up to lean on the back rail of his chair. I try not to notice how sculpted his biceps are.

“I work here.” His eyes are twinkling, like this is somehow hilarious.

“So you’ve said,” I reply. “You didn’t want to mention that before I went and talked my way into a job?”

He laughs. “Now, where would be the fun in that?”

“Okay,” I say slowly, feeling lost in the simultaneous desires to curse him out for being a douchebag and to behave professionally around someone who is apparently my new coworker.

“I’ve been working here since I was in high school,” Oliver explains, still smiling like he’s incredibly pleased with himself. “Now that Maisie’s trying to step back a little, she lets me run things when she’s not around.”

He runs things when she’s not around? Like, a manager? Jesus freaking Christ.

I take a deep breath. “Am I to understand you’re my boss, then?” I’m dead inside. This summer is going to be horrendous.

“Why?” He raises an eyebrow mockingly. “Would that upset you?”

I blink rapidly, not sure how to respond to this obnoxious man who seems intent on pushing all of my buttons for seemingly no reason.

When I don’t answer, Oliver grins. “I’m not your boss. But I’ll be happy to tell you what to do, if that would make you feel better.”

My cheeks flush despite my overwhelming urge to smack his stupid face. Everything he just said sounded oddly suggestive, though I’m sure that wasn’t his intent. At least, I hope not.

I clear my throat. “Well, Maisie said I should start on Friday,” I manage. “So I guess I’ll see you then?”

“Come by around eleven,” he agrees. “It’ll be easier to train you when there aren’t many customers here.”