Page 41 of Ms. Lead

He takes a step toward me, his chin jutting out and his shoulders squaring. That is not the response I was expecting if he’s embarrassed.

“Hey man, while I appreciate the lesson in MS that I didn’t ask for or need, I was attempting to read your aura for your information. It was hard to see in this light. And what I did see appears to be spot on.” He disappointedly shakes his head and goes back into the kitchen to whisk the eggs.

Well, I feel like an idiot now. Way to get off on the completely wrong foot with Bianca’s family. While I’m not sure how much stock I put into aura readings, it couldn’t hurt to find out. And maybe asking about it will bridge this gap I’ve wedged solidly between us. It was not my intention.

“I misread the situation. I apologize.” He shrugs and nods as if it’s no big deal, but it’s not enough for me. I need to fix this. “So…did you see anything? With my aura, that is? Bianca didn’t tell me you could do that.”

He pours the eggs deftly into a frying pan and talks over his shoulder. “It was hard to see, to be honest. It’s very close to your body, which isn’t great. That denotes some negativity around you. I did see some yellow, which makes sense with you being a writer that does investigative stuff. It’s more of a logical color than an emotional one. But…” He pauses, turning back to the eggs.

Now I’m invested. He can’t leave it at that.

“But, what?” He can’t stop in the middle of an analysis of my person.

He turns off the stove and spoons some scrambled eggs onto a plate.

“But it’s not only contracted around you tightly, it’s also edged with like a gray smoke or haze or something, I don’t know. I’ve never seen something like that.” He scoops some of the food into his mouth. Apparently, he’s not very concerned about this strange development in my aura.

“Is that a bad thing?” I’m thinking it’s a bad thing. It doesn’t sound very good, anyway.

“I don’t really know, man. I don’t do this very often, and I may not even be that good at it.”

He sounds to me as though he’s trying to cover something up. I’ve interviewed enough people to get a sense of when I’m not being told the entire truth. So, while it may be true that he doesn’t do this very often, I have a feeling he knows what it means. He just doesn’t want to say it for some reason.

“Well, if you had to take a guess, what would you say it means?”

I pull out an old interview trick and invite the subject to hazard an educated guess. Make it hypothetical, so they don’t feel responsible for their response.

“If I had to guess…” he eyes me, measuring my stance. Perhaps rereading me. “I’d say you’re under a lot of stress or have some kind of weight on your shoulders that is heavy for you. You might need a bit more rest as well.”

I rub my chin thoughtfully and nod. He’s not wrong there. But it’s a bit like a carnival fortune teller, vague enough to apply to you, but it could also apply to just about the entire population.

“I see,” I say, nodding in agreement with him.

He relaxes, and I think I may have smoothed things over between us.

“My brother isn’t trying to force his party tricks on you, is he?” Bianca walks up next to me, reaching up to kiss my cheek. She’s radiant and much more put together than a few minutes ago, though I did like her in just a sheet.

“Watch out for that one right there.” Enzo points an accusatory finger at his sister as she enters the kitchen. “She’s a full-blown red. Passion out the ying yang, this one.”

“What’s wrong with passion?”

Bianca is behind her brother, pouring a mug of coffee, and she winks at me conspiratorially.

I wholeheartedly agree that Bianca can be very passionate. I suppress my return smile to avoid getting her in trouble with her brother.

“Nothing is wrong with it per se, but it can be a lot. Passion about being happy, passion about being sad, passion about being bored, passion about being hungry, passion about a commercial you saw on tv that made you cry because it had a puppy in it. Dio mio, this one. Pazza.”

Enzo talks with his hands just as passionately as Bianca does, and the similarities between the two only intensify. It's a joy to watch them together. They’re so vibrant. There is obviously love between the two siblings, and I get a little pang of jealousy as they interact.

Having no siblings of my own, and even close cousins being few and far between, I didn’t have that type of relationship with anyone. Sure, I had and have friends, what few I have left, but those relationships are nothing compared to the shared life experiences of siblings.

I’ve read something recently stating that no siblings have the same childhood. Everyone experiences things differently, especially family relationships. I don’t think that’s the case with these two. Even though they aren’t twins, they definitely shared their childhood.

“Oliver?” Bianca is holding the coffee pot out to me in question. “Did you want some coffee?"

“What? Oh. Yes. Please. Apologies.” I look down, trying to shake off my inner monologue about families and my jealousy surrounding them, and notice that I’m still shirtless and just in my sleep pants. “I’ll be right back.” I take the one shoe no longer needed to protect me and rush upstairs to make myself more presentable.

Chapter Twenty-Four

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