Chapter 38

Elodie had to admit, Ari wasn’t wrong about the restaurant. The tea leaf salad actually did knock her socks off (not literally, but close), and the fiery Nan Gyi Thoke danced on her tongue. But as they dug into the melt-in-your-mouth Shan tofu, Ari’s questions shifted from spice levels to market conditions, his gaze sharper than the chillies in their curry. He grilled her about the regulatory environment, demanded financial documents. Numbers flew faster than chopsticks. They debated financing models, haggled over interest rates, and finally, after an hour and a half of verbal sparring, reached a tentative agreement. The details – equity, fees, exit strategy – would be for future negotiations. Over a dessert of mango sticky rice, creamy and sweet like Ari’s occasional smile, he presented a small, beautifully wrapped package. ‘What’s this?’ Elodie asked. ‘A token of thanks,’ he said, ‘for opening the doors to the Chamber of Commerce party, and for trusting me with your resort project.’