Page 75 of Barging In
“Seriously?”
Clem nodded. Hadn’t Max mentioned he needed space to expand his cider production?
“Want to look inside?” Victoria asked.
“Yes, please,” Clem said eagerly, not one to decline poking her head into something interesting.
They crossed the courtyard to the long, stone building with three large, wooden barn-like doors set into the front of it. Victoria unlocked a smaller door to one side, on the end nearest the bridge, and flicked on a light. A beautiful oak-beam ceiling illuminated a red-tiled floor. The space was in better shape than Clem had expected.
Suddenly, Victoria let out a scream. A huge spider scuttled across the floor in front of them. Clem felt strong arms gripping her from behind as Victoria ducked out of sight.
She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “Wow! I love how you made me your human shield there.”
“Sorry,” Victoria panted into Clem’s right ear.
She did her best not to react to the stimulating sensation of Victoria’s closeness, her warm breath on her ear.
Once it was clear the offending spider was gone, Victoria eased off Clem’s arms, much to her relief.
“So,” Clem said, “you’re arachnophobic as well as claustrophobic?”
“No,” Victoria replied, shaking her head. “I’m neither. I don’t like large spiders or small narrowboats. I only have one fear, and it’s neither of those.”
Clem smirked, clearly prompting a response.
Victoria rolled her eyes. “Heights, if you must know.”
“Ah, a Canary Wharf penthouse must have been fun then,” Clem said, pressing her lips together before she could say more.
“Yes, well,” Victoria blustered, “you can see why I didn’t want to stick around. I prefer my feet to be firmly on the ground.”
Before Clem could reply, Victoria shifted the subject back to business. “It’s a good size, with electricity and running water.” She pointed to a sink in the corner.
“It’s a great blank canvas,” Clem admitted.
They made their way back outside. Clem looked around as Victoria locked up. The whole atmosphere at the wharf felt welcoming. If you ignored the few staff cars parked in the courtyard and the picnic benches, it was easy to imagine yourself in the past, amid the hubbub of the working factory.
“Well, if that’s everything,” Clem said, slipping her hands into her pockets.
“Yes. I don’t want to keep you,” Victoria said, stepping forward and narrowing the space between them. “I can’t thank you enough, Clem. You have helped me so much without any reason to.”
“I have every reason…” Clem wanted to say she’d do anything for her, but settled for, “To help a friend.”
Victoria’s hand rested gently on Clem’s bicep. “Dinner? Saturday night?”
“Great,” Clem replied, her voice a little higher than she intended.
“I’m looking forward to it.” Victoria gave a soft squeeze, nearly melting Clem into a puddle before she turned away.
As she watched her go, Clem’s hand instinctively went to the place where Victoria had touched her. Afraid she would turn and see her staring, Clem darted to the bridge. She was growing used to Victoria’s touches, but each one left her with a simmering frustration. She wanted more than a brush on the arm, a hug, or a kiss on the cheek. She longed to pull Victoria close, hold her tight, and show her everything she was missing out on.
She forced her mind back to the wharf and the endlessstream of ideas swirling in her head. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she furiously tapped them all into a note. The excitement bubbled up inside her as she did. She almost didn’t want to return to Florence. She wanted to dive in, work side by side with Victoria, and see her every day.
The woman was to be admired for her achievements. She’d spent her life leaving marks on buildings; all Clem had done was leave her mark on people’s waistlines.
CHAPTER 18
Clem snapped her laptop shut and blew out a frustrated breath. The YouTubers who’d promised to feature Clem’s Coffee & Cakes had ‘changed artistic direction’ and dropped her segment from their video.
