The door opened as Maks approached as if by magic. A middle-aged Asian man dressed in dark trousers and dark long-sleeved top greeted Maks.
‘Hamish, I’d like you to meet Zoe Collins.’
The man stepped forward at the door, smiling and holding out his hand. ‘You’re probably wondering how I came by a name like Hamish? I was born and brought up in Scotland when my parents emigrated there from Vietnam. I’m Maks’s housekeeping manager. Please, come in.’
Zoe was charmed by him and his soft Scottish burr. ‘Nice to meet you, Hamish.’
She walked into a sleek marbled hallway, decorated in tones of dark grey and silver. Understated. Elegant.
She heard Hamish say, ‘I’ll park the car, boss. Angie said dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.’
‘Thanks, Hamish.’
Maks came and took Zoe’s hand again. She must have looked dumbstruck. He led her down the hall and into a sumptuous but again understated reception room. He let her hand go and walked over to an exquisite walnut drinks cabinet. It looked like a piece of art, not furniture.
‘Would you like a drink?’
Suddenly Zoe relished the prospect of some fortification. ‘A glass of white wine, if you have it?’
Maks came back with a glass of perfectly chilled white wine. He had a tumbler of what looked like whisky. He lifted his glass. ‘Cheers. Welcome to my home.’
‘Cheers.’ Zoe took a sip of wine, appreciating the dry crisp taste.
‘Please—sit, make yourself comfortable.’
Zoe looked around. There was an assortment of low couches and footstools set around glass tables covered in the latest coffee table hardbacks. Except these actually looked as if they’d been thumbed through, their edges slightly frayed.
She chose a seat on its own and watched as Maks sat down on a couch at a right angle to her, resting one arm along the back. Utterly relaxed. Yet full of taut crackling energy.
‘You have a beautiful home,’ she said.
Maks looked around. ‘It’s probably not what you were expecting.’
Damn his perceptiveness. ‘I’m that easy to read?’ she asked.
‘It’s refreshing. I’m used to people freezing their emotions with enough chemicals to put an animal to sleep for a year.’
Zoe couldn’t stop a huff of laughter. ‘I have to admit I would have expected something less...discreet. Maybe a penthouse apartment.’
Maks made a face. ‘That’s more my brother Sharif’s style. He likes to be far above mere mortals, high in the sky.’
Zoe took a sip of wine. ‘What’s he like?’
‘Driven.’
‘What about your other brother... Nikos?’
‘He used to live like a nomad, keeping apartments in our various hotels. But all that looks to change now that he’s married and settling down. A wife and baby don’t really go with a nomadic lifestyle.’
Zoe’s insides tightened. Marriage. A baby. Family. Her worst fear. Her most secret dream. She shut it down. She’d vowed never to put herself at risk of feeling that loss and pain again, no matter what moments of yearning she felt.
Maks swirled his drink. ‘What about you? What kind of home would you aspire to live in?’
Zoe felt like pointing out tartly that she was perfectly happy where she was, but she knew no one could claim that. It was damp, dingy, and surrounded by concrete jungle.
But before she could say anything she was assailed by the memory of a house in Ireland... Dublin. On the coast...high above the Irish Sea. With acres of green lawn. A big golden house with windows like shining, benevolent eyes. Flowers blooming along borders. A shaggy dog.
Her mother, standing on the steps, calling, ‘Come on, you two. It’s time to go...’