Page 1 of Bargain Match

ONE

HADLEY

Burke is glaring at the monitor on his laptop when I stride into our office.

Or, I should probably say, the site of our future office. Right now, it’s mostly a pile of half-emptied boxes, half-assembled shelves, and a mini fridge filled with Diet Coke and whatever skunky beer Burke has been buying lately from one of the local breweries.

“Hey,” I drop into the lawn chair opposite him. “We need to talk.”

“Not now.” His frown grows deeper. “I’m working on something.”

“Working on what?”

“A grant application.”

“A grant application for what?”

His hazel eyes lift up to meet mine. “What do you think it’s for?”

“Well, based on your cheery disposition, I’d guess the application is for some kind of grant that will supposedly helpenterprising young entrepreneurs start a business in the state of Alaska.”

He blinks slowly at me, but his face makes no other expression.

“It could also be a grant for companies that will help people grow to appreciate the great outdoors by leading them on excursions through the Alaskan bush.”

He doesn’t even blink this time. His dark stare pierces through me.

I narrow my eyes into slits. “Or maybe it’s for grumpy mountain men who are being very rude to their business partner. Even though she’s supposedly his best friend.”

Burke sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. The first reaction—other than stoic—that I’ve gotten out of him today. Score!

“What do you want, Hadley?” he asks.

“It’s actually related to your project. Well, kind of related.” I pull a face. “I think I know how I can get the money to start paying back our small business loan.”

The loan we took out a few months ago to help us start H&B Alaskan Adventures. The wilderness excursion guide company we decided to start after I insisted that Burke stop taking friends of friends of friends out for free during his downtime.

Unfortunately, the loan we took didn’t take into account the extra short summer and fall we had this year. And we had to use the money we planned to buy gear for winter excursions to pay for foundation repairs on our new future office/storefront.

Add that in with a couple of other unanticipated natural disasters, and our little business is already deep in the red. So deep that yesterday Burke said we should maybe consider cutting our losses.

But that’s why he went into business with me.

When he’s in one of his little black raincloud moods, I’m there to add a little sunshine. Likewise, if I’m ever in danger of flying too close to the sun, he’s quick to swoop in and get me the heck out of the situation before things get too dire.

It’s a system that’s worked for us since I moved to the little town of Blue Spruce Creek, Alaska when we were in seventh grade. After I literally got lost in the woods walking home from school, because mom was too busy with her man du jour to pick me up, he rescued me before I walked off a mountain or into a river and pointed me in the right direction.

We’ve been best friends ever since.

So now, armed with my business degree and positive attitude and his outdoorsmen expertise and—let’s call it—practical outlook on life, I just know our new company will be a success.

We just have to get through this rough patch first.

Burke sighs and lets his hand drop to his lap. “Does your idea have anything to do with robbing a bank?”

I giggle. “Of course, not.”

“Does it involve committing any other felonies?”

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