Page 41 of Gideon's Gratitude

I considered. “I don’t believe I’ve ever visited at night.”

“How often have you visited?”

“Well, yesterday was the first time.”

Gideon sputtered. “Not even when you bought the property?”

“Well, no. I hired a young man who works at the local real estate office. Cadence Crawford. He scoured properties and sent me photographs. I liked this one. It suited my needs. He secured the propertyand put me in touch with Beatrice O’Halloran. Who, in turn, recommended Ms. Turner.”

“Yeah, Riley’s great.” A long pause. “So why yesterday? Just before a predicted storm? Likely to be the worst of the season?”

“Well, I certainly hope it was the worst.” Although we were in La Niña, and that meant more intense storms. Coupled with climate change, we’d be lucky to get away with only a few. “I didn’t have the opportunity to check the weather forecast. I was otherwise occupied.”

“Occupied.” The man put plenty of disdain in the word.

“Yes, occupied.”

“Why not say busy? I was busy?” A sniff. “You use all these expensive words. Like you’re trying to impress people. Trust me, I’m not impressed.”

The GPS system warned me of an upcoming left turn, so I slowed my speed. Suddenly, large headlights pierced the night. Within moments, the beams lowered in their intensity. Ah, brights. I never needed them in the city but could see the advantage of using them here. I caught sight of movement in my peripheral vision.

Gideon was shielding his eyes.

Damn.

I'd been the one to insist on dinner out. As a repayment for all the kindnesses.

Another curve in the road. In all my research of the area, assessing roads hadn’t been on my priority list. One of numerous oversights. Our street had several potholes. I intended to lodge a complaint.

“I wanted to be within close proximity to the city. Vancouver,” I clarified. A thought occurred. “Does the noise from the construction site bother you? Was that the cause of your migraine?”

Another grunt. When the man wanted to be uncommunicative, he was good at it.

“Well, I apologize.” Little I could do about it, though.

“The bright sun, the chainsaw, and you being an asshat all contributed to the headache.”

“Asshat?”

“Well, I could use another term, but I’m in polite society.”

I laughed. “I’ve been known to drop an f-bomb now and then.” I felt Gideon’s gaze. More like a burning stare. “I’m not all high class. And many in my class swear.”

“And what class is that?”

Well, crap.

“You could say upper class. My upbringing was upper middle class. In the past few years, with the success of my practice, I’d say I’ve moved up in status. Not ultra wealthy, though. A small portion of the population of Vancouver own a good portion of the wealth.” I wasn’t going to tell him about my millions socked away in investments. About the size of my portfolio. I wasn’t going to say I was paying cash for the house I was building next door to his.

“Ultra wealthy.” He appeared to test out the words. “Like, you know, snobs.”

“Or foreign nationals, attempting to hide their wealth in plain sight. And yes, there are rich people in Vancouver. There are rich people in Mission City.”

“Not as many.”

“True. I looked at several exclusive estates before deciding to build my own home. Easier to make it to my specifications.”

“And what are those specifications?” Another snort. “And it’s a left at the light.”

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