Free The Never Never Sisters by L. Alison Heller Page B

street, she pulled a single cigarette and
     a lighter from the pocket of her shorts. I smelled the smoke, dry and corrosive, and
     fanned the air in front of my face, but Sloane was undeterred by my discomfort. Halfway
     up the block, her cigarette burning from her lips, she pointed. “There.”
    Two men stood, waiting, the heat outlining them in hazy waves so they looked like
     something out of a mirage. When we got a little closer, about twenty feet away, one
     still appeared as if from a mirage. He was built like an Adonis in perfectly broken-in
     jeans—broad shoulders, brush of blond hair, a T-shirt that both clung and draped.
     Jeans. In ninety-five-degree heat. Obviously, he wore them because knew he looked
     good in them. Which meant he was an ass.
    “And Giovanni is?”
    Sloane dropped her cigarette and stomped on it, speaking softer and sounding shyer
     than I could ever have thought possible from her. “My fiancé.” I stopped right there
     on the sidewalk, incredulous, as Sloane leapt forward and ran smack into the arms
     of the guy next to the Adonis, the one at whom I hadn’t even bothered to glance.
    They hugged and murmured at each other—probably more about my parents:
Did you survive
?
Yes, I managed even though they hung me by my thumbs
—and I caught Adonis’s eye. He smiled, and I blushed and looked down.
    A hand touched my shoulder. It was the fiancé, who had made up the distance between
     us, his other hand holding Sloane’s. “Paige?”
    Sloane moved closer to him until their whole bodies were entwined. “Giovanni?” I said.
     He was not what I’d have dreamed of for a life partner for my sister; instead of a
     skanky ratlike creature, Giovanni was like a gangly, friendly version of the little
     prince: curly hair, huge Bambi eyes, about half an inch shorter than Sloane and I
     were.
    “Hi!” he said, and, hand still on my arm, leaned forward to give me a squeeze. “So
     great to meet you.”
    “You too,” I said, my eyes falling back to the nameless Adonis as if felled by gravity.
     He had that same smile on his face. Beautiful but simple, I decided. It was always
     the way.
    “We brought something,” Giovanni said. He fished into the beige tote bag slung over
     his shoulder and brought out a box, a brown ribbon quartering it into four uneven
     sections. “For you.”
    “Me?” I wondered how he had known that I was going to be appearing at this block at
     this time for the presentation when I myself had had no clue. “Thank you.”
    “Open it.”
    “Yeah, open it,” said Adonis.
    “Um. Okay.” I tugged off the ribbon and lifted the box. Four fat truffles sat in paper.
     They were beautiful, sure, but as it was a little after eight thirty and already sweltering,
     they seemed inappropriate. I could tell Giovanni was about to urge me to taste the
     chocolate, so I made some happy exclamation about how I couldn’t wait to have some
after lunch
, and shut the box quickly.
    “It’s from her store.” Giovanni removed his hand from around Sloane’s waist, only
     to clamp it down on her shoulder. They needed to get a room.
    “You have a store?”
    She nodded. “I manage it.”
    “She runs it!” Giovanni was almost crowing, and Sloane and Adonis started to laugh
     and shake their heads as though Giovanni’s exaggerations were a familiar comedy to
     those in the know. “It’s the best chocolate.”
    “It is pretty good,” Adonis said.
    They watched me expectantly, and I saw no way out of opening the box and nibbling
     one—something toffee with dots of nuts all over its square top. I pretended to be
     in heaven, but really I was preoccupied taking it all in: the candy box, the open
     smile on everyone’s faces, Sloane’s hand in Giovanni’s back pocket, the friendly street
     corner Greek God endorsing the chocolate. None of it was what I expected.
    When my eyes clicked with the Adonis’s for a third time, I wiped my hand on my skirt
     before sticking out my hand.