Page 15 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

Because fuck that guy.

I decide to head toward the cash register and ask for help from whoever’s working rather than head back to Maisie’s office, just to spite the Kyle in my mind. Even though I realize he probably would have been right—I know my anxiety tends to get the better of me when I’m in uncharted scenarios.

It seems that the universe wants to continue punishing me, because Oliver, rather than Maisie, walks back behind the counter just as I get there. I hadn’t noticed him in the store before.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a gray t-shirt, which feels a little too casual for work, but Maisie must not mind. It’s an outfit that might look sloppy on some guys, but it’s just tight enough that it accentuates his obviously very toned body in a way I feel obligated to ignore.

He fixes me with a smile that seems a little bit too friendly. For him, that is. “Can I help you?”

I don’t bother with niceties. “I’m here to meet with Maisie.”

Oliver nods slowly, assessing. “She stepped out for a moment to run some online orders to the post office, but she should be back shortly.”

I’m suddenly struck by how many hours Oliver must be working if Maisie is off-site so often. Something close to sympathy pangs in my chest, but I shove it away as quickly as it arrives.

“Do you want a coffee?”

I’m startled by the question, largely because it’s coming from Oliver, who I definitely thought was a colossal jerk. But there he is, looking at me like he understands social convention and is trying to be polite.

“Um, sure,” I say, still a little shaken by his behaving like a normal human.

“Come on.” Oliver gestures to me to follow, then crosses to the café area and lifts the hinged counter next to the gleaming silver espresso machine. “What can I get you?”

“A latte, I suppose? Thank you.” I reach into my purse to find cash, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. On the house.”

I raise an amused brow. “Is this that kind of place?”

“What kind of place?” He looks at me quizzically.

“You make it sound like the local watering hole, and yourself its congenial barkeep.” I try to fight the smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

“I mean, basically,” he jokes, starting the machine, then leaning forward on his elbows. “So are you headed to the beach after this?”

I’m continuing to feel very confused about how nice he’s being to me right now. And it’s been a long time since a man offered me a hot beverage in any scenario, on a date or otherwise. Is he trying to flirt with me? No, Oliver would never.

I nod, both to acknowledge his question and to clear my mind of the possibility that he’s coming on to me. “Yeah, I think so. Laurel has to work on her dissertation this summer, so I’ll probably have a lot of time to myself.”

“Hence the job.” He pulls a steaming ceramic cup from the espresso machine and hands it to me.

“Thank you. And yeah, basically. But I wanted the job for other reasons, too.”

He doesn’t even look up from where he’s wiping off the chrome espresso spigot. “To get a free trial on books you’re considering purchasing for your school library, I assume.”

I snort in surprise. “I hadn’t thought of that, but that’s a great idea.” Maybe on my breaks, I can gently flip through some YA fiction and make a list of what I want to order for Farnsworth. If I decide to go back, that is.

Oliver’s mouth twitches. “Well, I tend to have those from time to time.”

I smile in spite of myself, and I’m starting to wonder what, exactly, I’d thought was so bad about his guy. It certainly wasn’t his physical appearance, which Laurel was more than a little bit right about. His hair is thick and just a little too long, like he’s overdue for a haircut, but the way it curls around his ears is making me feel some kind of way. And his eyes might just be the brightest blue I’ve ever seen, as if the ocean itself is mirrored there.

I snap out of my trance. “Hey, wait a second. How did you know what I do for work?” I realize we hadn’t covered that during any of our antagonistic chats yesterday.

He shrugs. “Maisie told me this morning.”

Of course she did. I make a mental note to be careful what I say around Oliver. He and Maisie are obviously quite close.

“And anyway,” Oliver continues before I have a chance to respond, “I know you must have an ulterior motive for being here.”