*Olivia*
For the entire, miserable night, I stewed in my attraction to Giovani. I imagined running into him in the kitchen or by the swimming pool. I’d be all cute in my skimpy bikini, and he’d secretly check me out behind his sunglasses. I’d entice him into the pool, and he’d press himself against me to show that he was just as attracted to me as I was to him.
That didn’t happen, though. In fact, I didn’t see him at all after we’d met in the living room. It was like he was a ghost. I was sure he’d held my hand in his, that his eyes were a rich chocolate brown with flecks of gold and green, but my memory couldn’t preserve his image enough to convince me he was real.
If Dahlia hadn’t mentioned him, I would have been sure he was a figment of my imagination.
“Giovani gave us the best rooms in the house!” she said excitedly when we’d finally left his presence and went to our rooms to unpack.
