She chuckles, clearly unfazed that she’s spilling her relationship history to a practical stranger. Rather than feeling put off, I feel comfort. Penelope seems like a genuinely friendly person. I’m flattered she wants to share something personal with me even though we’ve only known each other minutes.

“But it was worth it because now I live in paradise and I found your amazing food truck. And now I’ve actually met you!” She lets out another squeal before her phone rings. “Shoot, I have to take this. FYI, I saw the Hungry Chaps guys milling around the market a bit ago, so steer clear.”

Penelope walks into the crowd with her phone to her ear before I can thank her for the warning. Best to leave now before I encounter Callum. We tried to play nice at the vet clinic, but that only lasted minutes. The last thing I want is another public confrontation that goes viral. Even if it would drive up business, it’s not worth the stress.

I head toward the other end of the market, then feel a tap on my shoulder. When I turn, there’s Finn James in board shorts, a striped T-shirt, and slip-on shoes, looking like a preppy college student on spring break.

His face reads hesitant. Probably since the only other times he’s seen me were when I was lashing out at his brother. Finn and I haven’t even had a proper conversation in the weeks that we’ve been working next to each other.

I make an effort to lose the frown I know I’m sporting. Finn hasn’t technically done anything to deserve my vitriol. It’s not his fault his brother is a prick.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He hunches his shoulders and tugs on the end of his shirt. He’s leaner than his brother and a bit shorter, but easily clears more than six feet.

“It’s an island. We were bound to run into each other at some point.”

He lets out a chuckle that sounds more nervous than happy. “About all this madness at work.” He stretches his arm out. He’s holding a clear plastic cup of coconut boba tea in his hand. “Peace offering?”

I don’t move to take the drink, opting to keep my arms at my sides. He stood on the sidelines for weeks while his brother and I waged a full-on food truck war with each other, and this is how he breaks the ice?

“You’re joking, right?”

His hand springs back to his body. He clutches the drink to his side, like he’s scared I’m going to smack it out of his hand. “I just thought that maybe—”

“Boba tea doesn’t really make up for the fact that your brother has been a jerk to me since the day we met.”