I flew into Vancouver with Lillian the next Monday. I’d made plans to meet Katherine for lunch at Boneta, and scheduled a limo to pick her up.
I drove the Ferrari and got there ten minutes before her. The same maître d’ was there.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Burke,” he greeted me. “The usual table?”
“Yes, thank you, Donald. Ms. Katherine Welsh will be joining me here.”
“I’ll bring her back as soon as she arrives.”
He left but before I could blink and a glass of Glenfiddich immediately appeared in front of me. I smiled to myself. I’d never expected this luxury before I met Rachel. Now it was commonplace. Was I becoming more like Rachel than I thought? In some ways I hoped so, in others, I’d have to watch myself. I was drinking more now. Not as much as Rachel, but more than I had before.
I wa
