Borrowed Beauty

Chapter Two: Extra Luggage

OLIVIA

There was a loud buzzing alarm just before the luggage carousel jarred into motion. A flashing light overhead alerted the waiting passengers that their suitcases were on the move. My eyes scanned the parading luggage for my very ordinary black suitcase. I had tied a rainbow-colored bandana around the handle to distinguish it from the dozens of other black suitcases. Renee, in the meantime, was looking for her Gucci bags.

Now, don’t get me wrong. This isn’t a Cinderella story. I could have had Gucci luggage too if I had chosen to waste, I mean to spend the money on designer brands. Dad had given us both an equal amount of money. It was my choice to pocket the cash and save it for something more interesting, and buy a cheap suitcase instead.

Renee’s bags turned up on the turnstile first, but before she could even reach for the handle, some stranger stepped forward and offered to help her. She didn’t even have to ask, that's just how it was. Always. She projected that whole “damsel in distress” vibe. The guy was reasonably attractive, though he was probably in his late thirties at least. “Here, allow me,” he gallantly lifted her overweight bags off the conveyor belt as if they weighed nothing.

“I’m in town for a couple of weeks, maybe we could get together, have a drink…” While he was flirting and fishing his business card out of his wallet, I was still wrestling my own bag to the floor. Notice that no one came to help me, nor did I expect them to. Self-sufficiency is the name of the game. I had only one suitcase, anyway. I finally got my suitcase balanced on its wheels and pulled out the extendable handle. The unknown businessman had finally left Renee to go fetch his own bags.

She glanced down at the business card, and then passed it carelessly to me. I read the name, Bently Howser Brooks, Esq, from the law firm of Kenneth, Martin, and Brooks. I figured there was no way the guy was actually single, not if he was a partner in a law firm. He probably had a wife and three kids back at home, who had no idea that Daddy was picking up young women at the airport. I was about to flick the card into the garbage, but since there was no receptacle nearby, I tucked it in my pocket instead.

Since she was still having difficulty juggling her two bags, plus a carry-on, I took the handle of the larger suitcase and started pulling it behind me with my free hand. “Let’s go,” I grumbled as I started moving toward the exit. She trotted after me on her high heels without even saying thank you. She wasn’t very happy that Dad had forced her to bring me along on this trip. Instead of being angry at our father for calling the shots, she was pissed at me, as if I had asked to tag along as her third wheel. Fourth wheel. Whatever.

Her anger was nothing to me. She was like a buzzing hornet bouncing against a glass window as far as I was concerned. Outside in the public area, a small crowd of people waited to collect their passengers from the arriving flights. Here and there people held signs with the names of the travelers they were sent to pick up. However, since the Salvador brothers knew Renee, they didn’t need a sign. Nor did I need any help to recognize them, even though I had never met them in person.

I took the time to look them up last night, and yes, the Salvador brothers were all over the internet. They were sort of local celebrities in Prosperity Springs. Along with owning the Dos Hermanos Night Club they did some small-time modeling. No doubt people were captivated by the double dose of handsome. I had gotten a particular eyeful when I clicked on a calendar the brothers had made two years ago called “Twelve Months of Twin Love,” in which the brothers had posed nearly nude in all kinds of provocative poses.

Meh. I mean, yeah, they were good-looking, but in a sort of boring, too-perfect way. I suspected that it might have been a spray-on tan they were displaying, and probably the photographer had done a little touch-up to make their muscles look more defined than they actually were. My eyes scanned the crowd and spotted them easily. Although they were each dressed according to their own style, their hairstyles were still identical, and when we got close enough to see, they had the same matching, ice-blue eyes. They pushed their way past the crowd and greeted Renee by kissing her on the cheeks like they were European or something. “Renee, you made it! Finally!”

After they fawned over her for a minute, one of them noticed me standing slightly aside, tapping my foot impatiently.

“Ah, you must be the sister!” He flashed me a smile, and his teeth were so white they practically blinded me. Seriously. That’s not a figure of speech. He had gone overboard on the ol’ teeth-whitening. “I’m Aaron, nice to meet you. Let me help you with that.” Aaron pulled Renee’s suitcase out of my hand.

“Yeah, I’m…” before I even got my name out of my mouth, he had dismissed me.

“Brock,” said the other one, sticking his hand out at me. I scanned his face quickly, looking for some minute difference between the brother's physical appearance that would allow me to tell them apart in the future. Something told me that would be a distinct advantage. I found what I was looking for in a tiny scar on his left eyebrow, almost imperceptible. Brock, left eyebrow, check. I also noted that his paw was baby-soft and almost feminine. He dropped my hand and turned to take Renee’s bag from hers, draping an arm around her shoulders. “Good thing we brought the truck,” he said to her, “since you came with…” he glanced at me, “extra luggage.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” I mumbled as I followed them out the automatic doors and out to the parking garage. I could already tell this was going to be super fun.