Guessing that it might well be Olivia’s attempt to ground herself, to remind herself of home and work and the real world, Adam nodded. ‘Love to.’ Could be his resolve could do with a bit of focus, too.
Without preamble she stood up and moved her chair around so she was sitting adjacent to him instead of opposite, and he braced himself for what he was beginning to think of as The Olivia Effect.
‘So, these are the “before” pictures,’ she said, placing her tablet on the table between them. ‘When I bought it the place needed a whole lot of work.’
She wasn’t kidding. The pictures showed dilapidated, damp-ridden rooms. Floorboards pushed through the rotten wool of threadbare carpets, dingy wallpaper peeled off the walls.
‘Now look at this. This is the work area.’
Adam let out a whistle as he saw how she had transformed the bay-fronted room. Originally meant as a lounge, it was now a professional office space. The walls were a bright, clean white, embellished with pictures of stylish fashions through the years and fabulous prints of Bath throughout the ages. Comfortable and homely overstuffed armchairs and a brightly upholstered sofa surrounded a table complete with fashion magazines. The wooden floor gleamed and the bright and cheerful rugs that littered the floor screamed fun along with good taste.
She beamed at him. ‘And this is the kitchen.’
It was a fraction of the size of his but it looked way more personal. The blown-up photos showed a neatly put up shelf of eclectic cookbooks that covered the globe in cuisine, a row of brightly coloured mugs, and pottery jars labelled ‘Tea’, ‘Coffee’, and ‘Sugar’.
‘I’ll bet your fridge is properly compartmentalised.’
‘I’ll let you into a secret.’
She leant forward confidentially, so close that he could see the light smattering of freckles on the end of her nose.
‘I keep my spices in alphabetical order.’
‘Whereas I don’t own any spices at all.’
Which pretty much summed it up.
A stray strand of her strawberry hair tickled his cheek and lured his fingers as she shook her head.
‘That’s just wrong,’ she declared slightly fuzzily as she picked up her glass.
‘Hey! Not owning spices is hardly a crime.’
‘It is from now. The Queen of Chill decrees it.’
Another shake of her head and Adam placed his hands on the table, out of temptation’s way.
‘Seriously, Adam, it’s not right to live in a hotel room.’
‘Penthouse suite,’ he interpolated.
She waved a hand. ‘Whatever. Point is, you never have to do anything real.’
‘Such as?’
‘Cooking. Cleaning. Dusting.’
Adam tipped his hands in the air. ‘And this is a problem because...?’
‘But that’s what us normal everyday types have to do. I think it would be good for you to get down on your knees and scrub a bathroom floor.’
He couldn’t resist. ‘But I can think of so many more pleasurable activities to do on my knees. Can’t you?’
Her face was tinged pink and her mouth smacked into a circle of surprised outrage, and Adam felt his lips quirk upwards into a smile.
‘I can’t believe you said that,’ she said, before emitting a sudden snort of laughter and staring into her glass. ‘Hey. It’s empty. How did that happen?’
‘I think you drank it.’ Adam glanced up. ‘Ah. Here comes our food.’
‘And more beer,’ Olivia said on a slight hiccup. ‘Good man, Saru.’ She beamed up at Saru as he placed two steaming plates in front of them. ‘This looks incredible.’
Saru grinned. ‘Thank you, Olivia. The ingredients are all fresh. I bought them myself from the market today.’
Leaning over the plate, Olivia inhaled. ‘It smells as good as it looks. What’s in it? And do you mind if I take notes?’ She indicated the napkin by her side.
Adam blinked; there was a certain fascination in watching the animation on her face as she listed all the ingredients, the tip of her tongue protruding at the corner of her mouth.
‘Kaffir lime, coconut milk, palm sugar...’
Yet another first. Adam tried and failed to imagine any woman he’d dated taking recipe notes from a waiter.
‘What?’ she asked after Saru had left. ‘I can’t have sauce on my nose because I haven’t started eating yet.’
‘Nothing,’ Adam said, shaking his head and pushing away the urge to tell her she was adorable. ‘Just tuck in.’
‘Don’t mind if I do.’
Adam had never witnessed anyone demolish a plateful of food with such ladylike dedication. Within minutes her plate was wiped clean.