Chapter 7

Elise moved around the kitchen with quiet focus, putting the final touches on dinner. The salad waited in the fridge, crisp mixed greens tossed with paper-thin fennel, juicy blood-orange segments, toasted pine nuts, and a bright citrus vinaigrette. The halibut fillets were seasoned and ready for a quick sear, the saffron rice already infused and fluffed, asparagus trimmed and waiting. The lemon panna cottas sat elegantly in their glasses, raspberries rinsed and honey warming gently on the counter. Everything smelled fresh and promising.

In the living room, Rob scrolled through his phone, curating a relaxed playlist, soft jazz and low-key indie tracks that wouldn’t overpower conversation. The house felt warm and inviting, candles flickering on the side tables, the faint scent of lemon and herbs in the air.

Exactly at 7 p.m. came the knock, sharp, confident, unhurried.

Rob checked his watch and glanced toward the kitchen. Elise wiped her hands on a tea towel and joined him at the door. When she opened it, they both took in their guest at the same moment.

Ella stood on the threshold dressed to impress, as always. Seven-inch black stilettos brought her to Rob’s exact height. She wore dark blue pinstripe trousers cut so perfectly they looked poured on, hugging the generous swell of her hips and the long, powerful lines of her thighs. Instead of a blouse, she had on only the matching pinstripe vest, buttoned low enough to frame an impressive expanse of smooth, creamy cleavage. The deep V left very little to the imagination, the inner curves of her full breasts on full, confident display. Her blonde hair fell in soft, glossy waves, makeup flawless, those striking blue eyes calm and amused.

Before either of them could speak, Ella stepped forward. She pulled Elise into a generous hug, her taller frame enveloping the petite woman completely. Then, without hesitation, she leaned down and kissed Elise softly but unmistakably on the lips, warm, lingering just long enough to register. Elise made a tiny surprised sound.

Ella turned to Rob next, repeating the gesture: a warm hug that pressed her breasts briefly against his chest, followed by a kiss on the mouth that carried the faint taste of expensive lipstick and something richer underneath. Both hosts were left slightly flustered, a flush already creeping up Elise’s neck.

“Thank you so much for this invitation,” Ella said, her voice smooth with that faint smoky Eastern European accent. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week. It’s always difficult moving into a new area, let alone a new city.”

Rob recovered first and guided her into the living room with a polite gesture. “We thought you might like to sit and chat with a drink before dinner. No rush.”

Ella smiled as she lowered herself gracefully onto the sofa, crossing those long legs. “I would love that.”

“Wine, or something else?” Rob asked. “We’ll be having white with the fish tonight.”

“Scotch, if you have it,” Ella replied easily.

Elise chuckled, still a little pink-cheeked. “Rob fancies himself a bit of a collector. I’m sure he’ll find something you’ll enjoy.”

While Rob disappeared into the kitchen to pour drinks, Elise hovered near the sofa. “Are you new to Vancouver as well as the neighbourhood?”

Ella patted the cushion right beside her. Elise hesitated only a second before sitting down instead of taking the chair opposite. Ella’s smile deepened. “Yes. I grew tired of the grey, slushy Toronto winters. Rainy Vancouver winters can’t be any worse than London, surely.”

Rob returned carrying three glasses. He handed Ella a generous pour of Highland Park over a single large ice cube, passed Elise a glass of light red, and settled into the armchair across from them with his own Scotch.

Before the conversation could continue, Ella raised her glass with easy elegance. “A toast,” she said, “to new neighbours and new friendships.”

They echoed the words and sipped. Ella’s eyebrows lifted in quiet appreciation as the whisky touched her tongue. She took a second, slower sip. “Highland Park ... not sure if it’s the twenty-five or the thirty.” Another taste. “Definitely the twenty-five.”

Rob couldn’t hide his surprise. “Wow. You’re correct. You obviously know your Scotch.”

Ella gave a humble little shrug, the movement making her cleavage shift enticingly. “I do. One of my clients in London was a serious collector. He taught me everything I know. I’ll be sure to invite you both over to sample from my own collection sometime.”

“I will definitely look forward to that,” Rob replied, genuinely impressed.