‘That’s okay,’ I say, relief flooding through me. ‘Is there anything you need me to do?’
‘No, thank you. I should be back later. Session going well?’
She smiles encouragingly at Oliver, who dutifully gives her a thumbs up. Nidi gives me a reassuring look before quietly closing the door.
‘Thank fuck for that,’ I say, blowing out my cheeks.
‘She seems nice,’ Oliver says.
‘She is. She’s a white witch version of Gandalf. You’d bloody love her.’
‘Which mystical wiccan does she belong to?’ He points around the room to the various crystals and mantras hanging on the walls, the bunches of lilacs, sage and rosemary. ‘At least you could stuff a chicken at a moment’s notice.’
He’s quite funny really.
He picks up a bottle of psychic mist. ‘Should I be worried?’
He gets it. He totally gets it.
‘No, but it might be the only option when this life coaching doesn’t work out.’
‘How do you know you’ll not be any good at it?’
‘Hello? Didn’t you hear me on the radio? No one in their right mind will want to come and do a session with me.’
‘I would,’ he says kindly. ‘I mean, how many sessions will it take to get to the bottom of my issues with Eduardo and my murderous stepmother?’
I start laughing. I’m very attracted to his face. He has very kind eyes that sparkle with life and energy.
‘That’s the first time I’ve laughed since…’ I stop mid-sentence. Since we were rolling about, engaged in wanton fornication. His mind appears to have gone to the same place.
‘Can I see you again?’ he asks softly.
Oh.
It’s taking me a few seconds to gather my thoughts. He waits patiently while I blink at him and think of something sophisticated to say. There’s definitely a spark there. A sort of sizzling sexual undercurrent. He must feel it too, remnants from our dalliance last week at the spa retreat.
‘Obviously, there’s a certain client confidentiality to maintain.’
‘Obviously,’ he agrees.
My cheeks are burning. I try to stop myself, but for some inexplicable reason, I rise slowly from the sofa, pick up the feather duster and begin to busy myself dusting crystals and shelves. ‘And a certain professionalism to uphold.’
Dust, dust.
‘And considering our…’
Flit, float.
‘Our, you know, romantic history,’ I smile shyly at him from over my shoulder, dithering like a girlie fool. I’m really teasing the moment out. I wonder, if like me, he is imagining me cleaning naked. ‘I suppose we could… you know. If Nidi has no objections.’
I reach out and trail the feather duster down his arm, just like he did to me with the leaf last week. Even the mere memory of it makes me tingle all over.
He seems conflicted. Or confused. It is something of a moral dilemma I suppose. I take a seat beside him, wondering who should make the first move. My lips feel drawn to him like magnets. But even though I’m leaning in, an inch from his nose, my eyes willing him to rip my bra off with his teeth, as the superior authority in the room, I should leave the first move to him.
‘I mean,’ he says, looking down at the awful line of dust that I’ve left on his sleeve, before impatiently wiping it off. ‘Can I see you again for another session? An actual life coaching session.’
Chapter 14
