"Angie!" Heather shouted for the third time. "The taxi is here!"

"I'm coming!" Angie replied.

It wasn't entirely true; she hadn't finished her makeup. The taxi driver had been waiting for ten minutes outside the door of the London apartment the two women shared, and he had already loaded their suitcases.

—Angie, the taxi!

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Is something missing?" Angie muttered frantically. "Well, it's hopeless now. Tell the taxi driver to load the suitcases!"

—They're already in the trunk, Angie. I'm going to Sicily to get married, and I'd like to arrive before the wedding.

"But there's still a week to go, right?" Angie asked, finally leaving.

—Yes, but I'd rather not miss the plane.

It was a perfect day to leave London. It was pouring with rain, and just crossing from the door to the taxi was an adventure. Heather and Angie ran. They laughed with joy at the thought of escaping, of going in search of the sun.

—Look! Have you ever seen it rain like this? It's so nice to be leaving! Sorry to keep you waiting.

"I don't know how you can be a doctor," Heather replied. "You're the most disorganized person in the world."

"Oh, it's just that as soon as I enter the hospital, I'm a different person," Angie replied honestly. "It's just that in my private life I tend to be a little... you know."

—Yes, flighty, light-headed, and irritating.

—I need a vacation, I'm exhausted.

—I'm not surprised, it must be exhausting having so many admirers... Bill, Steve...

"Bill? Steve?" Angie repeated.

—You remember them, don't you?

—Well, that was a month ago. That's history.
"And do they know they're history?" Heather asked.

"I tried to break up very gently," Angie replied. "I always try."

—And why did the man last night beg you to come back as soon as possible?

—That was George... I think.

"Honestly, Angie, you are incorrigible," Heather laughed.

—No, I'm not. I'm not incorrigible... whatever that means. Anyway, that's not why I need a vacation. Working in the emergency department is exhausting, but when you're on the night shift...

Heather and Angie had been sharing a flat in London for six years. Heather was a charming person, reserved and modest by nature. And, since opposites attract, her best friend had to be Angie, an extroverted and brilliant girl who believed that men lived only to please her.

"Sunshine, blue sea, golden beaches, and lots of handsome Sicilians, with SA! Or at least CAO," Angie exclaimed.

Angie divided men into two categories based on their attractiveness: SA stood for sex appeal, and CAO for a hidden appeal. For Heather, who had tried to assimilate these categories, men with sex appeal were those who were immediately attractive, while the others had a hidden charm, more subtle and intriguing.

"You talk about the CAOs as if they were the poor relation," Heather objected.

—Well, not really, but it takes time to get the hang of it, and I don't have the time. SAs are better for short flings.

—Stop it!

"No way," Angie replied decisively. "I don't go on vacation to repress myself. I go on vacation to get a tan, to fall in love, to savor the local delights, and to go crazy. Otherwise, what's the point?"

Angie was serious. She was a petite, blonde, blue-eyed girl. Romantic and impulsive by nature, she fell in love easily, and never
She had trouble winning over a man. Her life was filled with brief, intense flings. She was the perfect flirt.