Page 6 of The Woodcarver's Model
Jessica Hanson lived in a condo at Alberni and Jervis in Vancouver’s West End. It was only on the second floor, but that allowed for a nine-hundred-square-foot terrace which put his roof deck to shame.
It was a designer’s dream. Paintings covered every wall and they, like everything else in her suite, were modern and exquisite. It was less than a half-hour’s walk from his hotel to her place. He stopped along the way to pick up a bottle of wine and a simple teardrop pearl on a platinum chain for a birthday present. He might not have liked her at times, but he sure as hell loved and appreciated her.
The concierge let him into the lobby and, after introductions and a check of the guest list, buzzed him into the inner sanctum. Rather than take the elevator up one floor, he jogged up the marble staircase to her door, one of two on the floor.
He rang. The door opened and Jessica stood there smiling, a glass of wine in hand.
“Robby,” she cried out. She threw her one arm around him, taking care not to spill any wine. “It’s been two years since you’ve been out here.”
“There’s nothing stopping you from coming out to see me, you know.” He tried to keep the sarcasm to a minimum.
“Yeah, right. Now get yourself in here and tell me what you’ve been up to.” She spirited his bottle away, placing it on the dining room table, and handed him a glass of what she was having. “We’d better finish this off before we crack open your bottle.”
Jessica led him out onto the terrace where a table was laid with enough hors d’oeuvres to feed an army. He took it all in—a large sectional, multiple chairs, tastefully arranged, lush greenery, sculptures and a water feature—no, it was a pond. With koi.
They clinked glasses. “Happy birthday. Oh, by the way, I got you something. I didn’t have time to wrap it.”
He handed her the present.
Jessica opened it. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.” She put it on, smiled and gave him another hug. “So, tell me what you’ve been doing.”
“Well, I just got back from a trip,” Rob replied.
“No surprise there. Where this time? Mountains? Deserts?”
“Somalia.”
“Who the hell travels to Somalia on vacation?”
“You’d be surprised,” he said, without adding,Well, me, for one.
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll be right back.” She smiled. He looked around again. He could have a koi pond on his roof deck if he wanted it.Except the gulls would eat them all in a day,he thought. Moments later he heard a male voice. Soon Jessica and agentleman callerjoined Rob. He was an older man, probably in his mid-fifties. Some would say distinguished, meaning nicely dressed—though a bit too formal—but well-groomed with a good head of hair.
“Robert,” Jessica began.
Why did she call him Robert? She never called him that unless…
“I’d like you to meet Thomas Koss. Thomas, this is my brother, Robert.” The gentleman caller approached and held out his hand.
Rob noticed his perfect teeth and signs of a slight paunch under his jacket. Rob shook his hand and smiled back.Jessica, I’m going to kill you, he thought.
“Nice to meet you. Jessica’s told me so much about you,” Thomas said.
“I bet she has.”
“Let me get you a glass of wine,” Jessica said before leaving them alone.
“I hear you are a writer. Adventure travel, is it?”
“Yeah,” Rob replied, before swallowing down the remaining wine in his glass.
“How did you get interested in that field?”
“It started when our parents were killed in a plane crash in the jungles of Peru.”
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Thomas said, with a horrified look on his face. Rob smirked inside at the reaction, desired as it was. But he decided not to play the guy…at least not too much.
