Page 21 of Match Made in the Maldives

Finn grunts in agreement, taking a bite of his dinner. I enjoy being this close to him. We’ve stopped at the beachfront bar on the way to the villa, knowing almost the entire family has passed out and no one needs us there. During the daytime, the bar’s laid-back, open-air concept means people can walk up barefoot, clad in swimwear, and order. Super casual.

The dim glow of the evening gives this spot a different atmosphere. Save for a few candles illuminating the bar top and a dull overhead light for the bartender, darkness covers me and Finn. The other couples—two people playing footsie at their table, and another pair at the far end of the bar making out—look like silhouettes, black blobs melding into one.

Somehow, this gives us more privacy than the boat. I realize how close my leg is to Finn’s. Two and a half more inches and my knee could rest against his thigh.

“Can I ask you a question?” Finn grabs another slice of his flatbread. “’Bout what you said earlier.”

My heartbeat picks up pace.Can I kiss you? Can I touch you? Can I take you back to my room?Yes, yes, yes. I give him a seductive smile and say, “Only if I get to ask something in return.”

“Fine. What’s going on with your job?”

Oh. The crust turns dusty in my mouth. That’s not the direction I’d hoped our conversation would go. I spent the first ten minutes of the ride earlier with a gnawing in my chest. Not only out of concern for my family, but with thoughts that I should have been working, not embarking on some romantic sunset cruise with my brother’s best friend.

“Working as an entrepreneur is a lot harder than it looks,” I say.

“I get that. Not that I’m an expert, but I can look at your business plan. Offer guidance.”

“I don’t need help. I need five more of me.”

“Things aren’t slow?”

I shake my head, washing down my meal with a sip of water. “The opposite. Lots of projects, too little time.”

“That’s good. You’re in high demand.”

I agree with Finn in theory, but if I can’t keep up or deliver what my clients need, I won’tstayin demand.

“What if you—”

I make a buzzer sound. “My turn,” I say, leaning onto one elbow to close some space between us. “Do you wish you were here with someone else?”

“Like this whole trip?” he asks, his eyebrows jumping in surprise. “Orherehere?”

“Mm. Both.”

“Two questions? Not sure how I feel about that.”

“Ugh, fine. Do you wish you were with someone elseherehere?”

“No.” He takes a moment and shifts in his seat, his body a hair closer to mine. “Nice not being the odd one out. We’re in Honeymoon Central. Everyone is coupled up.”

“Except you and me.” I throw a coy smile his way as a thread of hope weaves around my heart.

“Sure,” he says, averting his gaze to his soda. “Except you and me.”

“Would you—”

Finn holds up a hand. “I get to ask now. Why don’t you raise your prices?”

Back to business. I let out an exasperated sigh and snatch a french fry.

“Your time and services have value,” he continues. “You ever heard of scarcity mentality?”

“My turn. Do you remember when we kissed?”

Finn coughs on his last bite of crust. The bartender swings by to take some of our plates. “Thanks,” Finn says. Then he looksmy way, the flicker of a candle illuminating his face with a soft warmth. “Of course I remember.” He twirls his glass on his coaster. “Happened yesterday. It’d be hard to forget. Anyway, scarcity mentality. You familiar with it?”

His obvious deflection deflates my boldness a little. “Sure, I think so.”

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