Page 9 of An Accidental Flatmate

I might ask him to stay.

Butterflies started a series of frenetic Samba moves in her stomach.

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The doorbell broughtBea to the door of her room. She giggled when Casildo pushed the front door open far enough to peer around it.

“I’m back.”

“I can see and hear that. You don’t have to ring the bell.” She leaned against the doorjamb.

“A precaution. Not sure how many changes of clothes you brought with you. Don’t want you spilling more hot chocolate.”

“I’m collecting clothes tomorrow.”

He held up the carry bag. “Dinner. I bought beer.”

“What if I don’t drink beer?”

The smells coming from the bag reminded Bea she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Lunch had been a washout after she’d learned she’d missed out on the promotion. She hadn’t joined Friday afternoon celebrations. Given her usual routine, that shouldn’t be seen as sour grapes. She’d offered fulsome praise to the scheming Jackson Smithers, then headed home to—

“Bet Anna left wine and mineral water in the fridge. Plus hot chocolate. Not that I’ve ever seen you drink more than a few sips of white wine at all those cocktail parties, conferences and corporate gatherings our industry loves to host.”

Bea had thought she was wallpaper to Casildo at those functions. Instead he’d watched her closely enough to spot her drinking, or rather non-drinking habits. “I enjoy an occasional beer.”

“Great, I’ll bring a couple through with the food. From memory, Anna keeps the table mats in the sideboard near the dining table.”

“I drink from a glass, Casildo. I don’t swig from a bottle.” She followed him down the hall.

“Never doubted it.” He was quick with the pickup. “Good glasses are in the sideboard too.”

“Were you planning on using a glass?”

“I’m housetrained.”

Bea chose the best cutlery and plates from the sideboard.What the hell!She—maybe both of them—were celebrating a new-found freedom. Anna had inherited the crockery, most of the glasses and the sideboard from her maternal grandma. She’d inherited the deposit for this apartment as well. A small, older-style building with eight apartments. Anna liked the neighbourly vibe that came from owners managing their own building.

“I got baba ghanoush and hummus. Plus, you’re in luck. They also had some muhammara from a wedding feast they’d catered.” He set containers on the mats she’d placed in the centre of the table.

“I don’t know that one.”

“It’s based on capsicum. Time-consuming to make, so not on the standard menu here in Australia. Do you want me to put everything out at once? I got some tabouli because you also go for the salady things at those work functions, plus a cheese pide.”

“Serve it all, and I can nibble,” she said.

He was more observant than she’d given him credit for. Generally observant, or was he interested in her? Her heart skipped a beat. What a fascinating thought when she’d tucked her crush in a drawer markedDo not openyears ago.

“So, if you’re going to pick up clothes tomorrow, you must have spoken to someone at home.” He poured her a glass of beer then filled the second glass.

“I spoke to Mamá. Said I was looking after the place in Anna’s absence.”

“Mention me?”

“Your name didn’t come up.”

“Given that your mamá’s never met me, it wouldn’t. But she might be concerned about her baby girl living with a strange man.”

She sampled the muhammara. “This is gorgeous. Are you a strange man, Casildo?”

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