She leaned in and kissed him again, the length of her body pressed up against his. He put one hand behind her neck and held her to him.

‘I find your payment terms very favourable,’ he joked in hushed tones when she pulled away again, his hand lingering on her waist. His touch made the top of Penny’s thighs ache.

Sex-y.

Francesco set about with the last of the pans in the dishwash area as Penny sprayed and wiped down all the surfaces, and he’d been right: working together meant they got done in super quick time.

‘What are we listening to?’ he asked across the kitchen, after about ten minutes of companionable effort.

‘The High Low podcast,’ Penny replied.

‘They’re funny,’ he said, resuming his work.

Penny snuck glances of him from the other side of the workspace. She watched him crumple his face, concentrating on the two women coming from the speaker talking about the high maternal death rate in black mothers. He nodded slightly, as if agreeing with the point at hand, and Penny saw the way it made the muscle of his shoulders ripple under his t-shirt, how his neck moved.

‘It’s rude to stare,’ he said, not looking up from the sink. ‘You taught me that.’

‘Caught red-handed,’ Penny said.

He flashed her a smile, elbow deep in the bubbles from the washing up.

Francesco loaded the last few pieces into the dishwasher, pulled the plug on the sink, and then rinsed everything down with the shower head attached to the plug.

‘Let’s go outside for your smoke,’ he said, after Estelle and Stuart had come down to say goodbye for the day.

‘I’ll mop us out and we can share a San Pellegrino from my stash out there,’ Penny replied.

‘How illicit.’

‘Just go,’ she said, laughing and pointing to the exit.

He stood outside the open door, against the walk-in fridge. It was his turn to watch her now, and it had turned into an unspoken game: she’d watched him and not been bothered at being caught, so now he watched her without hiding it, refusing to shy from doing exactly the same.

‘Listen,’ Penny said, as she crouched down to the bottom step, her 4 p.m. ritual, passing him a can of her fizzy drink and preparing to roll a cigarette. ‘Can I be totally upfront with you?’

‘You can,’ Francesco encouraged, moving towards her. He stood in front of her and she forgot what she was going to say. She swore she could feel the heat radiating from his trousers, and her breath got shallow at his proximity.