CHAPTER FOUR
My phone rings just before nine o’clock that night. An unknown number with a Toronto area code flashes on my screen, so I let it go to voicemail. Anyone who has my private phone number knows better than to call me—I’m strictly a texting person other than necessary business calls.
When a voicemail notification pops up, I tap in my code and put it on speaker.
“Hello, Willow, this is Jasper Perry. Evan’s brother. We met today at Bellevue Family Village. Which…you already know.” At the sound of his throat clearing, I swallow a laugh. “I was thinking of making my way to your apartment for the night if that’s satisfactory with you. Please call me back at your earliest convenience.” He rattles off his number and the line goes dead.
At the thought of texting him a reply, I have a vision of him giving his phone a completely perplexed look, much the way I did a minute ago. Because of this, I hit the call back button.
“Hi, Jasper, it’s Willow,” I say when he answers.
“Oh, hello, Willow. Thank you for getting back to me so promptly.”
My lips twitch despite my best efforts. I wonder if he ever relaxes his formal way of speech. He sounds like he should have a British accent and an 1800s birth date. “Just FYI, for future reference, I’m more of a text person,” I tell him.
“Gwen mentioned that when she gave me your phone number, but I thought it would be quicker to simply call you.”
And yet if he’d texted, he’d already be on his way here. I keep that little tidbit to myself. “Do you still have a landline at home, Jasper?”
There’s a pause, likely because he’s taken aback by the odd, mostly-off-topic question. “As a matter of fact, I do,” he says slowly. “I don’t use it as often as I once did, but I find it convenient. Modern technology is a wonderful thing, but much of it still baffles me, so I’m a bit of a hold-out on some things.”
That’s not hard to imagine. Even my mom got rid of her landline two years ago. She said she was paying for a cell phone with all the bells and whistles, plus she was out more than she was home anyway, so there was no need to keep the landline. The only reason she held out as long as she did was because we’d had the same phone number for two decades and she’s sentimental.
Not entirely sure how to respond to that, I say, “Well, I’m ready for you whenever you want to come over.” When I ask if he needs directions, he says Gwen already gave them to him, so I tell him where he can park and then we hang up.
I do one last visual sweep of my apartment. The space is so small, it’s easy to keep it tidy. My bedroom is another story; the laundry hamper is overflowing, along with most of the dresser drawers since the closet isn’t big enough to hold all my clothes. There’s no reason for Jasper to go in there, though.
As I move restlessly through my apartment, I realize what I thought was indigestion after scarfing down a plate of Mom’s veggie lasagna is actually a case of nerves bubbling away in my sternum. The thought of having a strange man spend the night on your couch would likely set most people on edge, but that’s not the cause of my nervousness. I think it’s Jasper himself.
Working in the hospitality industry, I’m accustomed to all types of people, yet a man like Jasper is a rarity. He’s like someone from another time. I’m suddenly wondering what we’ll talk about, especially since I doubt we have much in common. It doesn’t help that I find him attractive. I can’t remember the last time I was drawn to anyone in more than a passing way. There’s also the fact I haven’t had a man in my apartment other than Evan, who doesn’t count because he’s become a brother figure to me. I’m not feeling brotherly toward Jasper, though.
The buzzer goes off from downstairs. When I press it and say hello, Jasper’s tinny voice says, “Hello, Willow, it’s Jasper Perry.”
The way he always says his full name makes me wonder if he’s truly that formal or if he’s afraid I’ve somehow forgotten who he is, despite meeting him twice today and talking to him on the phone literally ten minutes ago. I buzz him in and open the apartment door to wait for him to emerge from the stairwell.
When he appears, the first thing I notice is his suitcase. I initially mistake it for a large briefcase until I realize it’s one of those old-fashioned handheld suitcases. The brown leather is worn and faded in spots, which surprises me since Jasper seems so fastidious about things. I bet everything inside is meticulously sorted and folded, and likely even stored in packing cubes. I wonder if he has an iron in there to keep the crease on his jeans sharp.
When he spots me in the doorway, he gives me what I’m guessing is as close to a smile as Jasper gets. His lips barely move, but his eyes brighten and crinkle ever so slightly around the corners. “Good evening.”
“Hi. Come on in.” I step aside to let him enter the apartment. Once I’ve closed and locked the door, I turn to find him looking curiously at the locks. There are three of them on my door: the standard one that came with the apartment, plus a bolt lock underneath, and a latch lock where a chain used to be, both of which Evan installed for me when I moved in. Heat creeps into my face, but I laugh lightly and shrug as I say, “You can never be too cautious, right?”
He doesn’t miss a beat before saying, “Indeed,” and holding up a bouquet of flowers that must have been hidden behind his suitcase. “A small token of appreciation for opening your home to me for the night. And an apology of sorts if I came across as rude in the café earlier. I received distressing work-related news this week and I’ve been in a fog ever since. That’s no excuse, and yet I thought perhaps these might make up for disparaging your autumnal decorations.”
By the time he finishes speaking, I realize my mouth is hanging open. I snap it closed as I reach for the flowers. They’re a similar color scheme to the ones TJ sent to the café this morning, but they’re simpler and less flashy. For that reason, and the intent behind them, I like them far better than the ones from my ex.
“These are beautiful. Thank you.” I admire the red and orange blossoms as Jasper takes off his shoes and lines them up neatly next to mine by the door. “And don’t worry about earlier. I didn’t think you were rude. I…” I’m about to say I actually found the interaction amusing, but I’m not sure Jasper would understand or even appreciate that. Instead, I say, “I’m grateful for the gesture. I wasn’t kidding about not having any fall decor at home, so these will really brighten the place up.”
I step further into the apartment and wave a hand around. “I’d offer to give you a tour, but this is pretty much it. The bathroom is on the other side of the living room wall and my room is off to the left there behind the kitchen.”
Jasper nods as he looks around, taking in the space. “This is charming. Very cozy.”
“It’s okay, you can say it.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” He doesn’t look at me as speaks. His eyes are trained across the room in the direction of my bookcase.
“Despite thinking of it as cozy, like you said, it’stiny. You can’t comfortably fit more than a couple of people in here at a time. It works for me, though, at least for now. Gwen and Evan invite me over to their place a lot, and so do Ivy and Hugh. You’ve met them, right?”
“Yes, a few times,” Jasper says absently. He’s still staring at my bookcase. “Lovely couple.”
