city and facing the frightening, but very real, prospect of not seeing Violet anymore.
Not seeming to sense my inner turmoil, she held her elbow out towards me and asked, “Shall we?”
“We shall,” I readily agreed as I accepted her offered arm and headed out to learn everything I could about where this intriguing woman grew up.
19
Violet
I couldn’t help chuckling at Oliver’s over-the-top, disgusted reaction. “What is that??”
“It’s a hot dog,” I answered simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, even though I knew exactly what his problem was with it.
He scrunched up his face in distaste. “Why is it so bright red? Is it made out of lobster?”
Snorting out a laugh, I said, “No, it’s not made of lobster. It’s only the shell of a Maine lobster that is red, anyway. Red hot dogs are a local favorite because they taste far superior to those disgusting flesh-colored wieners you eat.”
I only realized how loud my voice was when the freckle-faced little boy passing by pointed at us and announced to his mother, “That man eats fleshy wieners.”
“I do not,” Oliver grouched as the woman shushed her son and attempted to scurry past. Glaring at me, despite the undeniable hint of amusement in his gaze, Oliver said, “Thanks for that.”
“Just eat your lobster roll,” I suggested.
I had advised him that a lobster roll would be much easier to eat than a whole lobster would have been. I assured him that the toasted, split-top roll filled with lobster salad was the most iconic meal for this area, but I didn’t mention that the mess he would make as he attempted to crack into a whole one would have caused a spectacle.
We’d already seen several people I knew in town, and this outdoor lunch spot was bound to start filling with both locals and tourists soon. It was still a bit early for lunch, but it was a crisp, sunny day, so this place would likely soon be bombarded.
Oliver’s attention was drawn to a young family eating lobster at the wooden picnic table next to us. I recognized the parents as a couple who had been three years ahead of us in school, so I nodded and smiled when we made eye contact.
The young boy couldn’t have been more than two or three, but he tore into his lobster as if it was the easiest thing in the world. After watching him for a moment, Oliver turned to glare at me. “I could have handled that.”
“It’s much more challenging than he’s making it look,” I assured Oliver with a smile as he groaned in delight over his first bite of lobster roll.
I was saved from having to explain further when I heard a disbelieving voice say, “Vi, is that really you?”
Turning, I was thrilled to see my childhood friend, Molly Malone. The petite woman rushed over and pulled me into a warm hug.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming into town? I could have planned a get together with the old gang,” she lightly chastised me.
I tried not to let the distaste show on my face. I knew she was trying, but the last thing I wanted was to get together with our group of friends from school, without Dylan by my side.
Since she seemed to be waiting for a response, I said, “It was a last-minute thing. I didn’t even tell my mom we were coming.”
My use of the word ‘we’ seemed to awaken her curiosity. Her gaze darted towards Oliver. Plopping down on the bench beside me she said, “And who is this?”
She held her hand out for Oliver to shake. He set down his lobster roll and lifted her hand to his lips, which made her giggle.
I rolled my eyes as he introduced himself to her. “Oliver Adams… at your service.”
It was all I could do to keep from upchucking my barely-touched red hot dog as Molly shared her name with him and tried to figure out why he looked so familiar. I’d never seen Oliver in action before, but it was clear that being a smooth player came naturally to him––except with me, apparently.
Her eyes widened when it came to her, and she squealed, “You’re the heartless hunk!”
Oliver glared at me. “I thought you and Soraya said that people in small towns don’t watch reality television.”
I shrugged, honestly surprised that Molly knew who he was.
Molly turned to me and said in a serious tone. “Be careful with this one. He’s a heartbreaker.”
“I’ve heard