The Lovers Read Online Free PDF Page B

perfect. I breathe in the steam from the mug, exhale, then turn around.
    â€œâ€™Morning, Patrice.”
    She nods silently. I decide not to care, and go to sit on one of the woven-leather chairs. It’s more comfortable than it looks, the brown leather straps cradling my butt.
    Viviane is in a pair of hot-pink sweatpants and a black thermal top with a skull and crossbones on the front. She looks adorable. Patrice is wearing khakis and a sweatshirt with a kitten on it. She looks…odd. I never expected “cute” to be her thing. But I am constantly surprised by what I don’t know about people. I always question if I’m reading anyone right.
    I am questioning how I’m reading Audrey. I wish there was someone I could ask. But Terry says I have to learn to trust my instincts, to trust myself.
    â€œDid you sleep well, Tina?”
    â€œWhat? Oh, yes. I love the sound of the ocean. It lulls me.”
    That, and being completely worn-out from coming so much, like some sort of nymphomaniac.
    â€œI find it irritating,” Patrice says, frowning. “I always wear my earplugs when I’m here.”
    â€œIt’s not for everyone,” Viviane soothes.
    Kenneth wanders in then, looking rumpled and sleepy in his plaid cotton robe tied loosely over a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, Sid following at his heels.
    â€œAh, there you are, Sid,” Viviane says. “Traitor.” She turns to me. “He always sleeps in Kenneth’s room.”
    â€œDon’t worry, I’ll hand him back over at the end of the summer. He won’t even miss me.”
    â€œHa! We’ll both miss you, as always.”
    Kenneth looks pleased as he pours himself a cup of coffee and wanders out to the patio.
    â€œIs Audrey up yet?” I ask, then immediately wish I’d kept my mouth shut.
    â€œShe usually sleeps until noon, that one,” Patrice tells me.
    â€œOh, she does not, Patty!”
    Patty? Only Viviane could get away with that.
    Patrice just huffs and sips her coffee, staring into the fire.
    â€œShe’ll be up by ten, I’m sure,” Viviane says. “I was thinking we could all do some brainstorming on the beach today. Do you have a pad of paper with you? If not, I have piles of legal pads. I always stock up for the summer.”
    â€œYes, sure. That sounds great. I could use some brainstorming.”
    â€œGood. Just throw your suit on. I’ll bring a blanket and towels and something to drink. Don’t worry, it’ll warm up soon. Okay, who’s ready for breakfast?”
    â€œKenneth always is,” Patrice remarks. “Might as well get started.”
    â€œCan I help?” I ask.
    â€œWe can handle it. You relax.”
    Viviane smiles at me, and she and Patrice get up and start pulling things out of the big brushed-steel refrigerator: eggs, milk, bread, a side of bacon. Soon the kitchen is filled with the aroma of food cooking, the bacon snapping on the flat grill built into the stove. I feel helpless and sort of foolish sitting around doing nothing while they do all the work, but too shy to insist on helping.
    I watch Viviane and Patrice work together, and it’s almost like a dance as they move around each other. They don’t talk much. Viviane is humming quietly, and Patrice is absorbed in mixing eggs, cheese and mushrooms into an omelet, taking charge of the pan, flipping it like a professional chef, and I am surprised by her once more.
    I get up only to refill my coffee mug, and when I pass her, Viviane gives me a quick hug. She is so sweet.
    As I take my seat again, I have to wonder why her touch is so different from Audrey’s. She is every bit as beautiful, inher own way. But my body responds differently, with nothing more than a warm fondness. A feeling of security. It’s different with Audrey.
    Everything is different with Audrey.
    And as though she’s sensed me thinking about her, she shuffles into the room on bare