Chapter 2: A Tasty Bit of Company

I'm a practiced liar. I'm good at it because it was my job. I made people believe whatever story I chose to tell them. The only thing I had to work hard at was remembering which story I was using at the time. If you lie enough times, you start to lose track of which one you are telling.

I had a handicap, as well. Women remembered me. They remembered me much better than men did. As much as I would like to be forgettable, or even invisible, they remembered me. A friend of mine at CSIS said it was because I looked something like Valery Putin, while another claimed I resembled a young Yul Brynner with hair. It wasn't good news. I was a bit too memorable for my liking.

I'm five foot ten inches tall, and currently a very fit one hundred and seventy-five pounds. My hair is dark brown and cut short, but no mousse or trendy spikes. I had grown a goatee while in prison, and it changed my appearance quite a bit. My eyes are blue-gray, I have very high cheekbones, and my nose is slim and straight. I wear very ordinary clothes, seldom with a tie. I have no tattoos or piercings or other distinguishing marks. I don't laugh out loud much, and my voice isn't unique. I try very hard to be commonplace.

If I have one quirk, it is my penchant for cowboy boots. At one time I had four pair. That was over eight years ago. I have one pair now. Old, but in beautiful condition after many hours of polishing and waxing. Soft as deerskin, they feel like a light glove on the foot. Damned if I know why my ex-wife wanted three pairs of size ten cowboy boots.

Natasha Collier wanted my life story. That was going to be tricky. I would tell her as much of the truth as I dared, but not all of it. I didn't know her, and I wasn't about to put either her or myself in jeopardy. That was another of my necessary rules -- trust no one.

I usually had a sixth sense about people, but it wasn't infallible, and I was still wary about what might lie in the future. As much as I'd like to get to know Ms. Collier, I had to keep to my self-imposed policy. That didn't mean I wouldn't romance the lady.

"You don't waste any time, do you?" Natasha began as we sat in the high-backed booth.

"Well, it's probably just two ships passing, that sort of thing, so there usually isn't a lot of time."

"Tell me, Nathan, what do you do for a living?"

"Nothing. At least, not right now. I'm living on severance from my last job."

"And what was that?"

"Security."

"Like a mall guard or an armored car guy?"

"No ... not exactly. I worked for the Canadian government. Internal security."

"You aren't giving me much," she said, appearing frustrated.

"Just as well. There isn't much I can give you."

That seemed to stop that line of questioning temporarily.

"You said you had an ex-wife. How long were you married?"

"Three years, one month, and twenty-six days."

"Not very long."

"Long enough. She decided she could do better. I don't know if she has, though."

"You still love her?"

"Nope. The past is the past, and she won't be coming back."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to pick at a scab."

"No problem. It's been quite a while ... almost eight years since the divorce was final."

"Any current girlfriends?"

"Nope. No opportunity. You are the first young lady I've had the pleasure of spending any time with in quite a long while."

"Lucky me," she smiled.

I replied in kind, "No ... lucky me."

She sat staring at me for some time, and I was looking right into her eyes as she did. She was trying to read me, and I was doing the same with her.

"What did you learn?"

She looked surprised, then curious. "About what?"

"About me. You were studying me. What did you learn?"

She blushed. It was attractive and quite natural. It confirmed just how lovely she was.

"You seem to be a study in contrasts. Sometimes hard, sometimes soft. Sometimes tense, sometimes relaxed. You are very hard to read."

"Perhaps I can help. I'm a thirty-five year old heterosexual male. You already know I'm single. I have no brothers or sisters. As far as I know, my parents are still alive, but my grandparents are not. I have a college degree in human behavior from Queens University via the Internet. I'm physically fit, and work out regularly. My hobbies are reading, fitness, and solving puzzles. I know how to ski, skate, swim, and dance. Any thing else you'd like to know?"

"That's quite comprehensive, thank you. I supposed you'd like to have me reciprocate?"

"Only if you want to."

"I'm twenty-nine, single, a graduate of Simon Fraser in Communication, Art and Technology. I'm currently employed as a junior appraisal clerk for Blindside Galleries. I look for up-and-coming artists, and recommend their work for display and sale at our galleries. I have no current boyfriend. My parents are alive, and I have an identical twin sister, Felicia. Three of my four grandparents are still alive."

"And what do you like to do in your spare time?"

"Swim, bike, ski, dance, party ... you know ... all the young person stuff. I'm single, but I don't have any problems getting a date when I need one."