Bliss by Shay Mitchell Page B

what to wear. The concierge rhapsodized in broken English about the Baray’s thousand-dollar fourteen-course tasting menu. “Or,” Nick continued, “since it’s your first night in Thailand, we could walk around outside. You have got to experience the street food.”
    Leandra masked her disappointment with a bright smile. Men didn’t like whiners. Tonight, she’d be fun and easy and eat cheap. Tomorrow night, she’d push for fancy. “I love street food!” she said. “Lead the way.”
    â€œCan you walk in those?” He pointed at her wedge espadrilles.
    â€œI could climb a mountain in these.”
    He led her out of the lobby, toward Kata Beach. At night, it was lit up with orange and red lanterns, string lights, and small bonfires along the shoreline. Several open-air restaurants were bustling with loud happy diners, the tables laden with platters of shrimp, noodles, fish, and tropical drinks. She thought he’d steer her into one, but he guided her (his hand on the small of her back) toward some food carts lined up on a side road. “Try the dumplings,” he said. He went to a particular cart and spoke to the vendor in Thai, who put some dumplings in a clear plastic bag, then scooped in spices and sauces, and plunked in a wooden stick. Nick handed her a bag, and showed her how to use the stick to pierce the dumpling, swish it around in the sauce, and pop it into her mouth.
    She nearly died. It was that delicious. No way the $1,000 food could taste better than this. “Oh, my god,” she said, stabbing another dumpling with her stick and shoveling it in.
    â€œSlow down,” said Nick. “We’ve got a lot of carts to cover.”
    They spent an hour sampling shrimp on sticks, sticky rice balls, noodle soup (also served in a plastic bag), and pork skewers. Nick paid for everything, although it was all ridiculously cheap. Each bite was more incredible than the last. She had to laugh about the Toronto food-truck scene, how snobby and pretentious it was. Every single one of these Thai vendors with a two-wheel cart, pot of boiling water, and makeshift grill produced tastier goodies than the gourmet trucks in North America.
    â€œReady to sit?” Nick asked, wiping his delectable lips with a paper napkin.
    Honestly, with a full belly, Leandra was ready to lie down. She hadn’t been able to nap earlier, too excited about her plans for later. The traveling and sun were finally catching up with her. “I could use some coffee,” she said.
    â€œIn Thailand, we drink tea,” he said. He brought her to a small beach bar and ordered a pot of green tea. They drank and watched some kids and a few dogs run around on the sand.
    â€œI’m so glad I’m here,” said Leandra, feeling genuinely grateful. Her parents worked hard to give her everything, and she hadn’t always been as grateful as she should be. She felt far from home all of the sudden, and uncharacteristically emotional.
    â€œYou okay?”
    She shook off that shock of sentimentality, and aimed her sexiest smile at Nick. “It’s just so beautiful.”
    He nodded, staring right at her. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
    She willed him to lean toward her and make a move. Do it! Kiss me NOW.
    Nick sipped his tea. “I really admire you,” he said. “It takes a lot of courage to come halfway around the world by yourself, not knowing a soul in the whole country.”
    â€œOh, well, I do know someone here,” she said. Her mom insisted she take the phone number for her friend’s nephew, an American who worked for a bank in Bangkok. Apparently, she met him once in New York, but he was so forgettable, she had no memory of him. “A family friend. I’m supposed to call him, but he’s kind of a loser.”
    Nick smiled. “So what do you have planned for tomorrow?”
    â€œNothing yet. Any ideas?”
    â€œSari and I