‘Penelope, I am going to be late. If you want to talk to me, my flat door is always open.’
The creepy look he gives sends me racing up the last few steps to my flat.
Once I’ve greeted Lenny, I take a quick shower, pile my hair up into a messy bun and change into a fresh pair of black jeans and a white T-shirt.
I’m poised to coat my lashes in mascara when there’s a knock at my door.
My stomach dives for the floor. It’s him. Oliver James is here.
Scooping up my cat, I whisper, ‘Stay loyal to me, Lenny. We need to stick together.’
10
The man standing in the hallway does not look like the polished Oliver James I saw in his author photo. His wavy brown hair is a little longer, and a thick stubble coats his chin. His T-shirt is crumpled, and his jeans look well-worn.
And yet, annoyingly, he’s still handsome.
Those dark eyes, the colour of strong coffee, make the word trouble flash up in capital letters inside my mind, and his boyish smile throws me off guard.
‘You must be Nelly,’ he says. His voice is smooth and polished, reminiscent of a male narrator on my audiobook app.
Oh, God, I can feel a tiny flicker of something inside my chest.Stamp that out right away, Nelly!This man tricks his readers into believing love is a good thing. Heartbreak would be inevitable with a man as handsome as Oliver. Someone as handsome as Oliver probably has a girlfriend – or even several – on his arm.
I hold Lenny tighter. ‘Nice to meet you.’
He smiles at Lenny in my arms. ‘Who is this little guy?’
‘Lenny.’ To my annoyance, Lenny starts to purr and stretches out a silver paw.
Oliver chuckles and gently shakes it. ‘Nice to meet you, little guy.’
‘Lenny,’ I correct him. Lenny will be horrified to be called that. Oliver chuckles, and I look down to see Lenny lovingly rubbing his head against Oliver’s hand.
Lenny, you are a traitor, and I will have words with you later. Now I need to let Oliver into the flat without touching him. This will be interesting, as my hallway is relatively small.
I step into my flat, set Lenny down, pull the door as far as it will go, and press myself against the wall so that our arms cannot touch. ‘Come in. This is the hallway. It connects… things.’
Oliver casts me an odd look and steps inside. ‘Hallways tend to do that.’
Ignoring his witty comment, I point him in the direction of the living room.
‘Wow – this is cosy,’ he gushes, looking around my living room with my chair in front of the small sash window, the tiniest sofa in the world behind it, the old fireplace, and the many shelves of books along the sloping wall. ‘This would once have been the servants’ quarters of this great house. I like it.’
A smile breaks out across my face. Apart from me, he’s the first person to have acknowledged that about my flat.
He points to my chair by the window. ‘That’s a great spot to sit.’ I watch him walk over and gaze out of the window. ‘Can we have a rota on who gets to sit there?’
I can feel my smile fading. ‘No.’ My answer is firm and clear.
This makes him smile and turn back to me. ‘Are you into accepting bribes?’
I shake my head. ‘No. That’s my seat.’
‘I can give you a signed copy of my latest book?’
Forcing out a polite, tight-lipped smile, I say, ‘I’m not a fan of romance novels so your bribes won’t work with me.’
‘You haven’t read my books?’ He seems shocked.
