Page 53 of Pomegranates and Olive

There is a small, wooden table with two open laptops, rolls of architectural plans and a rather large pile of discarded papers that makes me anxious just looking at it. Behind the table is a sitting area and fireplace with an overstuffed sofa and an even more overstuffed long-haired ginger cat sleeping peacefully on it. There are two doors at the other end of the room and a discreetly placed staircase in the far corner which leads to the loft above our heads. Deniz's bedroom?

That's where the real magic happens, Olive.

Then it's probably safer for me to stay on this side of the room, thank you very much.

I turn my attention back to the sheer volume of books that Deniz has accumulated on the shelves. You can learn a lot about a person by what they read, so I cross to the nearest bookshelf and run my fingers along the spines until I choose a particularly well-thumbed book.

Great Expectations.

"You're a fan of Dickens?"

"Very much so. That’s one of my favourites. You should read it if you ever get the chance."

I turn to him with a grin. "You do know I'm a librarian, don't you?"

"You are?” He chuckles. “No, I didn’t know that. I guess that makes sense."

"How so?"

"You quote alotof Shakespeare."

"So do you!"

"I enjoyed Shakespeare at school."

I look at him, confusion written all over my face. "So did I."

"Do you think that's strange?"

"I'm just surprised they taught Shakespeare in Turkey."

"I went to school in the UK."

"Right. Right. Yep, Ginny mentioned that. It also explains that hoity-toity accent of yours. Where did you go to school?"

"Eton."

I snort-laugh, and he rolls his eyes skywards at my reaction. "As in College?"

"My mother took my educationveryseriously. I went to Eton and my sister went to Mill Hill."

"Cute. So tell me... can you introduce me to Prince William?"

He looks at me incredulously. "How old do you think I am?"

I shrug. "How old is Prince William?"

"No, I can't introduce you to the Prince, although I have met Harry a few times." His deep chuckle makes me wonder precisely what those two had gotten up to in the past. "Coffee?"

I nod before continuing to probe him about Prince Harry. "Honestly, I'm surprised you and Harry aren't best buds. He was a bit of a baller in his day."

"I'm a baller?"

"Baller? Man-whore? Same thing."

"Harry appears to be a very happy man, for now at least. Any purported 'balling' is in his past." He hands me a macchiato made to perfection in his Jura coffee machine before turning his attention to the eggs he had placed on the bench. "You don't really know too much about me, do you?"

"Enlighten me."

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