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wooden plank, taking the boatman’s offered hand and giving him a grateful smile in return. Gio wondered how she could be so pleasant and polite with everyone else but him.
    “I’ve planned a good day for you,” he announced as the boat pushed off the shore. “Eight-thirty, leave the beach. Nine, Laurel Islands. Nine-fifteen, Crocodile Island—”
    Min Hee raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t tell me you’ve planned every minute of this tour.”
    Gio looked back at her curiously. “I’ve planned every minute of this tour.”
    “I said don’t tell me!” She rolled her eyes. “We don’t have to do everything right down to the very last second.”
    “But it’s the most efficient way,” Gio protested.
    “If this is what sailing and island hopping is going to be like with you, you’re not doing yourself any favors,” she teased. “Lighten up, Mr. Museum. We’ll do things your way today, but if they don’t go according to plan, we’ll be fine with it. Deal?”
    “Sometimes it’s nice to stick to a schedule,” he lectured her. “You know what to expect and you don’t waste time.”
    “What do you consider wasted time, I wonder?” Min Hee mused out loud. “What do you do with all the extra minutes and hours you’ve saved up by sticking to your schedule?” 
    She had a good point. His organization skills had made things certain things easier, like working at the museum or helping his mother manage the household finances. It gave him less of a headache when everything could be neatly categorized and classified. “It just gives me more time to do more,” he said stubbornly. “I don’t have time to rest or lighten up.”
    Min Hee smiled. “One day won’t hurt you, Mr. Museum. Let’s just take the day as it comes.”
    Soon they anchored on the southern tip of the island. “This is where I’d go to snorkel,” Gio told her, trying to match her easygoing mood. He handed her a diving mask and a snorkel. “How good a swimmer are you?”
    Min Hee shook her head. “Below average, maybe. I had to learn to swim for—” she began, then cut herself off. “I just learned to swim,” she said instead.
    “Don’t worry, you don’t need to be a strong swimmer,” he assured her. “Just stay near the boat. Besides, I won’t let you drown.” 
    “You have a funny way of assuring people, Mr. Museum,” Min Hee replied. “Why, are you a good swimmer?”
    Gio tried not to grin too widely as he stripped his shirt off. He had been swimming for as long as he could remember. Very briefly during his early teens, he had considered competitive swimming, but colleges gave more scholarships to valedictorians than they did to swimmers. Even if he hadn’t trained aggressively in years, swimming still kept his arms and legs in shape. He suddenly felt the urge to show off and flex just a tiny bit. “I guess you could say that,” he told her.
    Min Hee was looking at him strangely with her mouth half-open. Her sunglasses had slipped off her nose. “Uh, what’s wrong?” he asked worriedly.
    She quickly turned away. “Nothing,” she snapped. “I’m taking my cover-up off so look away.”
    He didn’t know why she sounded so irritated all of a sudden but he complied. He removed his glasses as well, but part of him instantly regretted it. Min Hee quickly turned around, before slipping out of her white crocheted sundress to reveal a two-piece suit. He studied her as much as his near-sightedness would allow him, letting his eyes trail the striped bikini top, the boy-cut bottoms, and the toned expanse of skin in between. He wondered how it would be to put a hand on the small of her back, under the pretense of assisting her down or steadying her in this gently rocking boat. But he had to look away before he was accused of ogling.
    Gio cleared his throat and moved nearer the banca outrigger. He swung his legs over the side. “Ready to go?”
    “Ready,” Min Hee declared, walking up to him.
    Gio went into the water