Page 9 of Match Made in the Maldives

Finn was checking me out.

Chapter Four

Luna

My family and I walk toward the dive center. Despite the jet lag, everyone’s moods run high at getting to experience our first full day in the Maldives. Cass and Carmen have opted to stay at the villa and chill, which I more than understand. Our temporary home has bedrooms for all of us, a well-equipped kitchen, and our own private pool pointed in the sunset’s direction. The design is beachy but sophisticated, understated, and with lots of windows and glass doors to allow maximum view of the ocean. All the lights and blackout curtains connect to a tablet, so privacy happens with a tap of the screen. My parents splurged big-time, and if we had to spend the entire trip in the confines of that building, we’d live like royalty.

In front of me, Aaron and Melissa talk to Mom and Dad about the construction happening in their surgical ward. Finn has his head down, focusing on the phone in his hand. He furrows his brows, then looks ahead where the dive center comes into view among the swaying palm trees.

“Work stuff?” I ask.

He pauses, tucking the device into his pocket. “Nothing important.”

“Congrats on the acquisition. I always believed in you.”

“Thanks.”

Finn provides no further insight, so I guess we’re back to our usual less-talkative interactions. Fine. The subtle sounds of him moaning during our massage haven’t made talking to him any easier. Each of the rough, guttural noises sent off a brief fireworks show between my legs. I did not wonder if Finn makes those kinds of satisfied noises during sex. Not once.

“You were the very first person to download it.”

“I didn’t know that.” I look at Finn, who nods. “I’m honored.”

“Now if I could just figure out what to do next.”

“Oh, come on,” I say, pushing his shoulder with my own. He’s much more solid than I expected. “You can take a breather.”

“Sure, that’s this week. But then what?”

“Not California, that’s what,” my brother remarks, apparently listening in on our discussion.

“You’re seriously still considering that?” Mel adds.

“You—” I’ve forgotten what words are and scramble for something to say. “You’re going to California?”

“I don’t know,” Finn says, rolling his shoulders like he’s dodging my question. “I got an offer out there. San Jose, a developer position at a digital communications company, good pay. Steadier than the startup life too.”

“I thought you liked the startup life.”

“I do, but—”

“We’re excited for you, Finley,” my mom says, and my dad offers him a “Good job.”

“That’s, um, very cool.” I kick a pebble on the pathway to distract myself. “Congrats on that too, I guess. California’s far.”

“Thank you,” my brother says, gesturing to me. “Listen to Lou. Don’t go to the land of the tech bros.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet. They’ve given me until after I get back to reply. Figure I can spend this trip trying to come up with my next big idea, and if I don’t, maybe that’s a sign.”

“Wow.” I fake a smile because Iamproud of Finn, and of course he has an enticing job opportunity lined up. Any company would be lucky to have him. “Well, you’ll—I’m sure you’ll figure something out. And who knows? Inspiration strikes when you least expect it, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his hands into his swim trunks. “We’ll see.”

We reach a building with stand-up paddle boards and kayaks leaning against one side, but my excitement about snorkeling has fizzled with this California job offer news. When was he going to tell me about this? And what would my life be like seeing him less, or not at all?

For a long time, I’ve admired and related to Finn’s work ethic—he wants to blaze his own path using his skills and talents, just like me. He’s better at it, though. Finn has such drive, and now he’s got the paycheck to match. If I earned half of what he did in his acquisition with my graphic design business, I could afford to take vacations more often. Girlbosses make entrepreneuring seem so easy, but I’m working more hours per week than I ever did at the agency, and my expenses balloon every day. I can only sign on for so many more projects before I’ll have to make client calls in my sleep.

Thoughts of work nag my mind with guilt. I want to be present with my family here, but I also can’t justify seven more days of not opening my computer.

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