Liv froze. Essie offering her food was a pinch-me moment. Surely, she wouldn’t feed and then fire her? Her first instinct was to politely refuse, but her stomach gave a groan so loud it sounded like thunder. She was also feeling faint after skipping her breakfast.

“There’s too much for one person, and I abhor food waste,” Essie said. “Your hesitation just wastes my time and yours.”

“Well, maybe just a little something,” Liv said. She picked up a cream cheese and cucumber sandwich and cupped her hand under it as she ate. The bread was as delicate as rice paper.

“Do use a plate, Olivia.” Essie sighed and removed her glasses, nodding toward one. “And sit down. I can’t stand people hovering around me like tsetse flies.”

As Liv pulled out a stool, Essie poured her a flute of champagne, but left her own glass empty.

“Is this a special occasion?” Liv asked, taking a sip. The bubbles popped against her nose, making her feel like giggling. “Aren’t you joining me?”

Essie placed a hand on her stomach. “I’m not very hungry.” Her expression didn’t alter. “It’s the publication day for Few and Far Between in the US today. The afternoon tea is a treat from my publisher.’”

“Wow, congratulations. That’s so special.” Liv sighed to herself at how rewarding being a writer must be.

Essie looked around her as if noticing the spread for the first time. “Yes, I suppose it is. They sent things a day late last year. How difficult is it to get a date correct?”

“It looks like the Mad Hatter’s tea party, in Alice in Wonderland,” Liv said.

Essie humphed. “Perhaps, but the Hatter tells Alice he is always having tea because the Queen of Hearts sentenced him to death.”

“Yes, because he sang to her, and she claimed he murdered time,” Liv added.

Essie’s left eyebrow twitched upward, as if both surprised and impressed. She nibbled on a scone and then pushed it away. “Did you inherit your love of books from your family?”

Liv nodded. “I read with my parents all the time. I’d loved to have studied English at uni, but...” She pressed her lips together and glanced away. She’d read somewhere Essie hadn’t gone to university either, and liked to think it was something they had in common. “I think I told you my dad was a professor? He taught English at Manningham University.”

“Hmm, yes, I think so.” Essie looked down and distractedly folded a napkin. She focused on it for a long time.

Liv thought she’d lost her attention until the author looked up again.

“Books must be in your blood,” Essie said.