Rosa at your door: chestnut curls, a crate of records and a City of London evening after work

By Sunday afternoon there is a loaf cooling in Rosa's kitchen and a record waiting to be flipped to side two. That is the mood she brings to a hotel room: unhurried, warm, a little homely in the best sense. She is 160 cm with a curvy figure, chestnut brown hair in long natural curls, and brown eyes that crinkle when she laughs. Her style is relaxed boho elegance, a wrap dress in rust or olive, layered necklaces, soft suede boots. Mid twenties, Marylebone based.

Earthy is how friends describe her, and she takes it as a compliment. Rosa is easygoing without being passive, and warm without trying. She bakes seriously, sourdough, cardamom buns, anything with a proper crust, and she will talk about fermentation with a straight face. Records are the other obsession; she digs through crates in second hand shops and knows every pressing she owns. Galleries fill her free afternoons. Her English is relaxed and kind, the voice of someone who has never once rushed a good conversation.

In the City she likes the older corners. Meet under the painted roof of Leadenhall Market, where the Victorian arcade glows after the offices empty and a pub or two stays open for an early evening glass. Then dinner nearby, somewhere simple with good bread, which she will judge. Back at your hotel she tells you about the record she found that week, asks what music you grew up with, and turns a business trip evening into something that feels, briefly, like being at home.

Her diary for the City of London runs Sunday to Thursday. Read how booking works, then send the desk your hotel and a time after work.