Sex and Vanity Page 10

“I think it’s definitely both. Atmosphere is everything. I mean, look at the water! And the rocks! And up there is my dream house,” Sophie said, pointing up at the beautiful white-columned villa perched high on the edge of the cliff.

“Isn’t it spectacular? I’ve been eyeing it all morning,” Daniella said.

“I wonder how prices are here compared with Sydney. You can’t get anything on the water anymore for less than ten million,” Sophie said casually.

“I bet it’s pricier than Sydney. Capri is one of the most expensive property markets in the world because they stopped allowing people to build anything new on the whole island back in the sixties. There’s so little inventory, you basically have to wait for someone to die,” Daniella replied.

“Daniella, you’re such a property goddess! I bet the first thing you did when you got here was head straight to the property agent!” Isabel teased.

“No, the first place I headed to was Il Laboratorio, the boutique. Then I went to the property agent!”

“How do you even get up to that villa? I don’t think there’s a road anywhere near it,” Talitha wondered.

“Can you imagine the view from up there?” Daniella said.

“Ladies, stop looking up there. You’re missing quite a view down here. Delicious dude alert!” Amelia suddenly declared. All the heads at the table swiveled to where she was pointing.

Lucie’s eyes widened. Walking toward the water’s edge was George Zao, wearing nothing but a white Speedo.

“Stop it! That’s my cousin George!” Isabel shrieked.

“OMG! That slice of chiseled heaven is your cousin?” Amelia gasped.

Isabel gave Amelia a look of disbelief. “Second cousin, actually. You think he’s cute?”

“Um, yeah! He’s a total snack! You could cut diamonds on that jawline. And check out that six-pack on him.”

“More like twelve-pack!” Talitha gawked.

“You know, for so long he was just this scrawny kid, I hadn’t really noticed his transformation. What can I say, he’s got great genes,” Isabel deadpanned, flicking her hair for effect.

The girls watched as George climbed up to a high rock, stretched out his arms, and executed a perfect dive into the sea.

Amelia clapped her hands. “I’ll give that ten points!”

Isabel turned to Lucie. “I think you and George are at the same hotel. Have you met him yet?”

“Um, we’ve crossed paths,” Lucie said, feeling her face flush. She hadn’t told Isabel about switching rooms with the Zaos yet, and now she didn’t think she was ever going to.

“He’s maybe a year ahead of you, I think. Goes to Berkeley,” Isabel continued.

“Does he? He doesn’t say much,” Lucie said, feeling a mix of emotions begin to well up inside.

“He’s very quiet, isn’t he? He’s always been that way,” Isabel said, watching her cousin as he swam back to shore. He padded over to the outdoor showers directly opposite from where they were sitting on the terrace and began rinsing himself off.

Amelia stared brazenly at him. “Yes, definitely a ten!”

“I’d give him a nine, minus one point for the Speedo. I’m not a huge fan of them—you can practically tell his religion, even from up here,” Daniella commented.

“Speedos are disgusting! They remind me of my fat uncles or Don Johnson on Miami Vice,”fn4 Talitha chimed in.

Sophie giggled. “In Australia, all the lifeguards on the beach wear them. We call them budgie smugglers.”

“More like a falcon smuggler in his case,” Amelia said.

Lucie stole a quick glance at George and then looked away. She felt so embarrassed for him, and at the same time she felt something else, something unexpected that took her by surprise. Anger. What in the world possessed him to wear that ghastly Speedo? Why would he want to put himself on display like that? To open his body up to assessment, to ridicule? And then to show off to the whole world with that attention-seeking dive. Obviously, he thought he was God’s gift! Why was she even surprised that George Zao was just like his crazy mother?

CHAPTER SIX


Da Costanzo Sandal Shop

 

Capri, Italy


Olivia insisted on taking Charlotte and Lucie shopping for sandals when they had mentioned it the previous evening, but at the appointed time after lunch, only Lucie appeared in the hotel lobby.

“It’s just going to be me,” Lucie said as she got out of the elevator.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

“She can’t even get out of bed. I’ve never in my life seen Charlotte hungover until today.”

“Should we even be going out when she’s like this?”

“Yes, she urged me to go. She said she just wants to sleep.”

“Poor Charlotte! Now I feel awful. I should have stopped her,” Olivia said with a little laugh.

“How much did she have to drink last night?” Lucie asked. She had been seated at Isabel’s table during dinner at Le Grottelle, a restaurant set partially inside a cave at one end and on a hillside terrace with sea views at the other, so she had no idea what Charlotte and Olivia had been up to at their end of the party.

“Oh, I can’t remember. You know when wine is that good, it just tastes like candy and you lose track of how many you’ve had.”

“I only had a few sips.”

“A few sips? Lucie, they served two Château Lafites and a Haut-Brion last night! It was brought in specially from the De Vecchi cellars. Don’t tell me you only had a few sips!”

“Well, I don’t have much of a tolerance. Unfortunately I inherited the Asian flush gene from my mom,” Lucie joked.

“I see,” Olivia murmured, not understanding what Lucie meant and thinking that Charlotte had been right when she said last night that Lucie was “a good kid.” Her own college years in Paris had been quite a different story.

The two of them walked out of the hotel and Lucie, by habit, started veering left toward Via Ignazio Cerio.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Olivia asked.

“Aren’t we heading to Via Camerelle?” Lucie asked, referring to Capri’s most famous shopping street.

“Hell no! You can’t walk through town before five, are you crazy? We’ll be trampled to death by tourists! Locals and those of us in the know avoid town at all costs between the hours of ten and five, when all the hydrofoils from Sorrento and Naples arrive and spit out thousands of day-trippers.”

“Really?”

“Lucie, trust me, don’t even think of being seen in town until after five, when the last boat has left for the day. That’s when the island becomes magic again and all the bright young things come out from hiding and head to the piazzetta for drinks.”

“I had no idea,” Lucie said, amused by Olivia’s insistence.

“Well, learn from me, kiddo. I’ve been coming to Capri every summer for years.”

“But aren’t we going to miss all the sandal shops if we avoid town?”

“Not at all. Because there is only one sandal shop you need to go to, and I’m going to take you there via the back route, where we can avoid the huddled masses and their snot-nosed, sticky-fingered enfants.” Olivia expertly guided Lucie through a maze of back lanes snaking behind the hotels. The quiet little streets seemed a world away from the rest of Capri, even though they were only a few blocks away from the main square.

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