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Beatriz smiled at thecrowd surging through the huge hall housing the Digital Print Show. The client she’d just farewelled was already mixing it with some of the bigger guys, keen to expand his reach and open to new ideas.

“Thank you, Casildo,” she whispered in her head, then spent a few seconds imagining other ways she might thank him, all of which involved climbing onto his lap and seeing where a bit of bodily heat took them.

The last ten days of sharing an apartment had been a revelation. He was incredibly easy to live with. He pulled his weight on chores, was considerate in small ways and worked punishing hours if you added up what he did in his office with whatever he did in that boxy little room down the hall. She hadn’t been brave enough to invite herself in there yet.

“Hey. Have you got a moment?”

Bea turned toward the voice. Ordinary-looking guy, dark colouring, about Casildo’s age, sporting a very obvious wedding ring. “Can I help you?”

“I don’t know that you can.” He smiled, a rueful quirk of the lips that set her completely at ease. A boy-next-door smile. “But I overheard a bit of what you were saying. “You’re in advertising.”

“I work for an advertising company.”

“That’s a trick answer, but I’m a complete ignoramus in that area.”

“Is this your stall?” She gestured to the booth bearing the same name as his T-shirt. It sported a huge banner promoting computerised printing. The trade fair was filled with booths, small and large, and her client was the resident of a booth nearby—not a big project, but an interesting one.

“The family business.” He nodded.

“Computerised printing is top of the pops these days. I see you handle textiles and fabric.”

“We do.” Another rueful smile. He jutted his chin in the direction of her jacket. “You prefer older style fabrics. And natural dyes.”

“You recognise the competition.” She laughed.

“I dreamed of being a purist.”

“Are you looking to promote your business? Is that why you approached me?”

“Do you know Casildo Hariri?”

“Different company, but I know him.” She smiled. “Why?”

“Maybe you could say hello. That sounds lame.”

“Why do you need a go-between?”

“We’ve been out of touch in recent years.”

“Occupational hazard.” She glanced meaningfully at his banner.

“Cas is a purist, but that’s not why we’ve lost touch. Have you got time for a drink?”

She glanced at her watch. “I went off the clock a few minutes ago, so as long as you’re not trying to ferret trade secrets out of me or pump me about your neighbour’s plans”—she pointed a thumb over her shoulder—“we should be good.”

“I’m a stranger. I could be trying to pump you. Why agree?”

She grinned. “You said the magic word. Casildo. For him, you get a friendly chat in a public place. And, my lungs are in perfect working order if I made the wrong call.”

* * *

Can you meet me in the bar at the Empire Hotel in Paddington? I’ve got a surprise for you.

Casildo stared at Beatriz’stext. An invitation to an after-work drink with his very attractive flatmate was a surprise because when they’d parted earlier, the plan was dinner at the apartment.

He glanced at his watch.

I can be there in fifteen.