Oliver answered the call, and on the other end, Brandon's tone was displeased as he spoke. "Oliver, how's it going with Josie? Have you won her over yet?"
"I'm not exactly her knight in shining armor," Oliver replied with a rueful chuckle, "She thinks I'm a playboy."
"You didn't pull a Casanova on her, did you?" Brandon's voice grew intense and angry. "Oliver, you've been single for over twenty years. Can't you hold out a little longer? Josie is such a delicate and introverted girl, how could you be so brazen?!"
Oliver held the phone away from his ear, wincing. "Grandpa, I'm not that kind of guy, I swear. I didn't do anything. She got the wrong end of the stick—thinks I'm teasing her because she's special or something."
Brandon heaved a sigh of relief and continued with his advice, "You might be top dog when it comes to business, but chasing girls? You're hopeless." With that, Brandon hung up.
Oliver stepped outside only to be met by George's teasing grin. "Hey, looks like Miss Josie left in a rush. Did your appearance catch her off-guard? Got her flustered?"
Oliver shot him a frosty glare, and George stepped back, hands up, "What's up?"
"How can you even ask? You're the one who told me to be bold and shameless, but seems like you forgot you're still flying solo yourself. And you're giving me advice?"
George winced. That hit a nerve. "I got that from an all-night binge of online dating tips. It was top of the list. Don't tell me you went overboard? You didn't do anything untoward to Miss Josie, did you?"
Oliver didn't want to entertain George's foolishness, and with a brisk stride, he walked off. George jogged to catch up, realizing he might have given a bad piece of advice.
Now what?
...
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