“Watch out for the airing cupboard, though. You never know what you might find.”
Perhaps he hadn’t.
“Are you hungry?” he said. “I don’t have much in the fridge, so I was going to order in for lunch. What do you fancy?”
“Oh, thanks. I don’t mind. Something light?”
He took out his phone.
Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell chimed, and a successionof men in black polo shirts appeared as if they were auditioning for a heist movie. Bags multiplied on the kitchen counter—sushi, mezze, at least five salads, and a box with steam escaping from the edges. It smelled of garlic and wet dog.
I stared. “This is… light?”
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want.” He looked from bag to bag like he was checking if he’d done it wrong. “I ordered a variety.”
I opened the steaming box. It was a steak the size of my laptop, with something weird shaved over the top of it.
“What’s the garnish of black scabs?”
Liam choked. “You mean the truffle slivers?”
“Oh dear. Sounds expensive. Is it meant to smell of old socks?”
He laughed. “It’s a type of mushroom. I’ve always got hints of gas station forecourt, myself.”
“So… are these guys the Hell’s Angels of the fungus scene? Petrol and sweaty feet?”
He snorted. “Some people like it, you know.”
“Must be a Mayfair thing.” I waved him away, reaching for the salads. Fancy grains and vegetables I didn’t recognize. They looked like they’d been styled for a magazine shoot. “I’ll leave you to your foot shrooms and steak.”
Liam laughed again and looked at me. “Andrea—”
I paused, a forkful of exclusive grains halfway to my mouth. “Yes?”
I shoved the salad—or whatever it was—into my mouth, instantly regretting it. The food wouldn’t crush—it definitely wasn’t safe to start speaking. He kept looking at me as I gave him a thumbs-up and tried a half smile, my cheeks bulging out like a hamster’s.
He continued. “I appreciate the shopping might have hadmoments today when it was… well, not something you’re used to.”
In possibly the least feminine moment of my life, I finally managed to gulp most of the food down. Liam didn’t seem to have noticed. Or if he did, he didn’t show it.
“It was fine, Liam. Fun, actually. At least, once the RBF assistant buggered off.”
“Who?”
“The assistant. Sylvia, or whatever her name was. Resting bitch face on steroids.”
“Oh. Right.” He laughed. “Yes. She was a bit… um… RBF, wasn’t she?”
“She was.” I rested my gaze on his. He was still chuckling, his right hand gripping a piece of sushi between two chopsticks.
“Thanks for that,” I said. “I saw what you did.”
“Oh, I didn’t really—”
“Yes, you did.” I paused. “You can be quite intimidating, you know.”
The skin between his brows creased. “Can I?”
