“What? Oh my God! That’s amazing! I mean, isn’t it?” Greta asked, turning to Ellie.
“It was good. Confusing but good,” Ellie said, feeling Cris’s hand on her face and hearing the low growl in his throat when he pulled her to him. She shook her head. “But in order to be professional, this interview has to be unbiased. And right now, I am feeling kind of—”
“Biased?” Greta grinned and nudged her arm.
“To say the least. However, I am clinging to the fact that I do believe his story and can remain impartial to facts.”
“So you want to be done so you can explore becoming very, very, deeply biased,” Greta said, lowering her sunglasses again with another smirk.
“I don’t know what I want to be with him. It feels unreal right now. I don’t know if the me who felt so heartbroken all those years ago would feel betrayed by the me who made out with him yesterday.”
“Or she could be cheering, you know?” said Greta, giving a mini fist pump. “Yay, future me! Get it!”
“I don’t know. Maybe. There are feelings there. I can’t deny that. But then there’s one other issue that’s still sort of unfinished. I didn’t think it would bother me as much as it does, but now it feels like it’s stopping me from getting my brain around anything else—including this whole thing with Cris.” Ellie pulled at the ponytail holder securing her messy bun, raked her hair back again, and rewrapped the pile of hair on top of her head. “I’ve been doing a little bit of research on what it would be like—I mean, what it would entail to maybe try to get back into a clinical internship and eventually become licensed.”
“Davvero?Is that even possible? How would that work? You never said anything about wanting to do it.”
“I know. It’s always been this little voice in the back of my mind, but way in the back. Lately, it’s been getting louder. I wish I had answers for your questions, but I seem to be stuck in that spot in the race where my curiosity has not yet overtaken my fear. They’re almost neck and neck, though,” Ellie said, joining her two index fingers together. “Still not sure which one will pull ahead.”
“I think now I know why you’d rather talk about olives.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, it’s okay to not know what you think about Cris, but don’t let that teenager in your head ruin things for the really amazing woman I’m sitting next to. Also, I think you’re going to have to cozy up to that conundrum sooner rather than later because it’s coming down the stairs behind you right now,” Greta said, trying to sit up a little bit straighter despite the spidery Odie. “Santo cielo,they’ve multiplied.”
“What? What’s happening?” Ellie was doing everything in her power to not turn around.
“The twins,” Greta hissed, then turned to wave. “Ciao, ragazzi! Madonna Santa! Vi ha scolpito Michelangelo?Come over here, you cuties!”
Ellie finally turned around and immediately understood both whyDouble Shotwas a huge hit and why Cris didn’t want any part of it. Greta was correct. The twins did look like Michelangelo himself pulled them out of the same perfect block of marble, both of them the product of over twenty years of weight rooms and pools. They both wore sunglasses and trim swim trunks: Leo in a searing yellow, Ale Jr. in black. Their hair looked to be the same cut, shorter on the sides and back with a longer shock of hair in the front. Ale wore his styled up and high off his forehead while Leo let the fringe hang so he could ruin everyone around him when he ran his hand through it to push it aside. They looked as shiny, perfect, and dangerous as two gassed-up Lamborghinis. In short, they were not Cris. Not anymore.
He stood behind them in the same faded pair of trunks she’d seen him in for days now, his mop of hair sprouting out from under the same baseball cap, and his face long gone to stubble. He looked… comfortable. Not just with himself, but he also looked comfortable to her. Sometime between the rowboat and the hammock, he had become familiar to her again. Their eyes met in the middle of the multiple kissesand greetings, like each was what the other was looking for. And there was something else. Her stomach hitched as she realized what it was. Possession. He was herninnolo. Even if she didn’t want him to be, her heart had fallen into the same groove it once knew.
“Ellie, you’re gorgeous. I mean—wait, no, I didn’t want to say that,” said Ale, laughing.
“He means that you’re incredibly intelligent and a massive success, but you are also way more beautiful in person than we remembered,” said Leo.
“Thank you, both of you.”
“Yeah, now I know why you don’t want to come to Portofino tonight,” Leo said, swiveling his head from Ellie to Cris and back. “I’m pretty sure that Gianluigi Buffon, Lando Norris, and, like, Rihanna are going to be there, but you know, whatever.”
“He doesn’t want to do the stairs up to Castello Brown, that’s why.” Ale grinned, redirecting the conversation. He clapped Cris on the shoulder. “Old man is trying to conserve a little energy, you know?”
“How have you guys been here for thirty seconds and are already on a VIP list somewhere? Do they smell you coming?” Greta laughed. “By the way, youdoboth smell amazing. What is that?”
“Just a little extra photo op scheduled by our agent, the magnificent Teena,” said Leo. “And it’s Creed.” Leo leaned down to Greta for her to smell his neck. She leaned in to inhale as her eyes fluttered.
“Oh, honey, if you do that again, I’m going to go into labor.”
“We’ll all be together for dinner with Grandpa and Graziella anyway,” said Cris. “Then you guys can go search for prey or whatever.”
“Man, I can’t wait for dinner. I’m already getting hungry,” said Ale, clutching only three of his six-pack of abs.
“All you think about is food,” said Leo.
“And sex. Don’t forget sex.”
“How could anyone who has ever talked to you for more than ten seconds forget that? Come on, let’s get in the water. I’m dying,” said Ale. Leo hung his sunglasses from the underside of the umbrella, and Ale dropped his on a towel. Almost every head on the beach turned to follow them as they sauntered off into the water.
