He laughed, shaking his head. ‘Still true. It’s a classic.’
‘You can’t stand mushrooms, not because you’re allergic, but because they feel like tiny sponges from the underworld.’
Oliver pointed at her, grinning. ‘That’s an exact quote.’
‘Your first gig,’ Clemmie continued, trying not to laugh, ‘was seeing S Club 7 live, and you cried when they didn’t do an encore of “Reach”.’
His face turned faux serious. ‘That was a deeply emotional experience, don’t mock it!’
‘Oh, I’m not mocking,’ she said, her eyes dancing. ‘But Iamwondering why you’re not an honorary member by now.’
‘Go on,’ Oliver challenged, crossing his arms with a smirk. ‘What else have you got?’
Clemmie tapped her chin dramatically. ‘Your guilty pleasure is eating peanut butter straight from the jar while watching reruns ofAntiques Roadshow. You secretly like the early work of Taylor Swift but would never admit it and your dream car isn’t a flashy sports car, it’s an original VW Beetle because you think it has personality.’
Oliver grinned. ‘But surely you don’t know the ultimate test: my favourite food of all time?’
‘Oh, that’s easy,’ Clemmie said, leaning back. ‘Your grandmother Bunny’s treacle tart. You once ate three quarters in one sitting, and your mum had to hide the rest because you were dangerously close to a sugar coma.’
Oliver leaned forward, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘You know, most people don’t know half those things about me. Fiona couldn’t even tell you what my favourite colour is.’
‘Green,’ Clemmie said immediately. ‘But not just any green, the exact shade of the grass on the cricket pitch when the sun hits it just right.’
Oliver blinked, stunned. ‘This is getting a little scary. Are you sure you’re not secretly writing my unauthorised biography?’
She grinned, lifting her glass. ‘I don’t need to. I already know the highlights.’
Oliver’s laughter softened, and he shook his head. ‘It’s kind of amazing, you know. You knowme. I didn’t even realise how much I missed being known like that.’
Clemmie felt a flush spread through her chest, but she kept her tone light. ‘Well, someone’s got to keep track of all your quirks. Otherwise, who else is going to remind you that your guilty pleasure is yelling at contestants onBake Offbecause they don’t temper their chocolate properly?’
‘I only yell because I care,’ Oliver said, grinning.
‘And that,’ Clemmie said with mock-seriousness, ‘is why I like you.’
Oliver laughed, shaking his head. ‘See, that’s the thing. Fiona never cared enough to ask about any of this stuff. She doesn’t even know the basics, let alone the utterly humiliating details.’
‘If she ever wrote your biography, it’d probably be titledThe Fabulous Life of Oliver: A Celebrity Baker’s Shortcut to the Stars,’ Clemmie said, her tone teasing.
Oliver laughed. ‘You’re not wrong. She’s always been more interested in what I can do for her than who I actually am.’
Clemmie softened, giving him a gentle look. ‘Then she’s the one missing out.’
They were both grinning, their eyes locked on each other as they sipped their champagne.
‘What do you know about me?’ Clemmie asked.
Oliver tilted his head, studying her. ‘That you are the most beautiful girl in the world,’ he said simply.
Clemmie blushed, laughing softly. ‘You’re deflecting.’
‘No,’ Oliver said, ‘I’m starting with the truth.’
Clemmie rolled her eyes, though her smile undoubtedly betrayed her delight. ‘All right, Romeo. Let’s hear it. What else can you remember?’
Oliver leaned back slightly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. ‘I know that when you were eight, you tried to turnyour bedroom into a rainforest. You hung fake vines, draped mosquito nets from your bunk bed and begged your granny to buy you a parrot.’
Clemmie laughed, covering her mouth. ‘Oh, don’t remind me. I made poor Granny eat nothing but tropical fruit for a week to set the mood.’
