Page 77 of Handle Me

“Lola, I’m a married woman. What would I know about it?” Her tone was rich with amusement. I looked up to see the first genuine smile on her face since I arrived.

“You suck,” I informed her.

But Clara laughed. The sound was like music. I’d always admired my older sister, admired her poise, admired her kindness. We were so different. “I suppose I should have seen that coming.”

“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Well, you know he had a thing for…” she trailed away, biting her lower lip. “It’s not important.”

I scooted forward in my seat, shaking my head. “You can’t leave something like that hanging out there!”

“It doesn’t matter.” She folded her hands in her lap, looking the part of the benevolent Madonna. “Is it serious?”

That was the question. “It’s barely been a week.”

But even as I spoke, the truth tightened around my heart.

“In my experience, when you know, you know,” she said dryly. She blew a loose strand of hair from her face. “Time isn’t really that important. My life divided in two the first time Alexander kissed me, and I didn’t even know his name.”

“Only you could not recognize the future King of England,” I teased, but I still felt heavy. “We’re not in love.” Love. Why had I jumped to that?

“You sure about that?” Clara asked softly.

I was not, and judging by the understanding smile my sister wore, I didn’t need to say anything. “What do you think of Anders?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” I pressed.

“I like Anders.” She paused, chewing on her lower lip. “But there was this thing that happened.”

“He had a crush on you?” I guessed.

Her shoulders sagged with relief. She tucked her legs under her and nodded. “I’m glad you know.”

“That I’m the consolation prize?”

Clara’s mouth fell open. “No, Lola–”

“I’m joking,” I stopped her. I thought of how Anders looked at me in bed, how his eyes devoured me, the confidence of his hands. My whole body warmed, heat creeping onto my cheeks. “Believe me. He doesn’t make me feel that way.”

“I can see that. You’re the color of a phonebox.” Her lips twitched, then she sighed. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked.

“Taking my mind off everything. It’s been hard,” she said darkly.

“Clara, is there anything–”

A sharp knock cut me off.

“Yours or mine?” she said dryly.

Georgia peeked inside, wearing a look of utter annoyance. “Everyone decent?”

We nodded. I doubted she would bother asking if it was Alexander out there. He probably wouldn’t have even let her knock.

“Mine,” I said. On cue, Anders stepped through the door. He looked past us, his entire body tense.