The Art of the Hustle 2 (Complete)

Chapter Six

As usual, Trevor and Ashley ate lunch together. They would often be gone for over an hour. Upon dining at one the finest restaurants in the city, they would take a long walk on the seawall or go shopping on Robson or Granville.

Heading West on Canada Place, they approached the Fairmont Pacific Rim Hotel. Lunch that day was going to be at Oru. Admiring the lot of exotic cars parked in front, Trevor and Ashley entered the hotel.

Walking through the hotel lobby, they took notice of the high ceilings and white marble. There was a large lounge area with a piano and a bar. Walking past that, they headed upstairs to the restaurant.

They were greeted by a blonde hostess who looked vaguely familiar. Trevor thought she might be a girl from his past, but couldn't remember.

"How's your day going?" the woman asked, walking Trevor and Ashley to their table.

"Great, and yours?" Trevor asked.

"I can't complain."

The hostess brought them to a nice table in the corner, which overlooked the Vancouver Convention Centre and the Vancouver Harbour.

"I told Tami," Trevor said.

"You told Tami what?"

"That you're pregnant."

"Trevor, we're not supposed to tell people."

"I know, it just sort of came out."

"How did it just sort of come out?"

"Well, she was helping me with gift ideas for your birthday and she suggested I take you on a trip. Then I kind of let it slip that we were thinking about doing that anyway before the baby."

Trevor and Ashley continued to sit and talk when an older man approached their table and interrupted their meal. He had silver hair and was dressed in an expensive three-piece suit.

"Mr. Morrison," the man said.

Trevor looked up with an expressionless face. Of course, he was the famous Robert Whitman so it was foolish to pretend to not know who he was.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm having lunch with my wife if you don't mind."

"My apologies for the intrusion Mr. Morrison, but you're a hard man to get a hold of. My name is Robert Whitman. I'm here in town on business and I was hoping to grab a cup of coffee with you."

"I'm not much of a coffee drinker."

"Perhaps another beverage is more suitable then."

"What's this regarding?" Trevor asked, almost in a rude manner. He knew exactly the kind of businessman Robert Whitman was and he was everything Trevor despised. He was notorious for underpaying his workers, treating women like second class citizens, and was involved in many illegal and shady dealings. One such transaction that he was currently under investigation for was kicking poor folks out of their homes only to demolish the building and erect some gaudy monstrosity. Whatever he wanted, Trevor was not interested.

"I would like to discuss a partnership that will be mutually advantageous to—"

"Sorry, not interested," Trevor said, returning his gaze to his wife and resuming his conversation with her.

"You're not even going to hear me out?" Mr. Whitman said. "I just need a few minutes of your time."

"Sir, I don't know who you are or what kind of harebrained scheme you're trying to pitch, but this is neither the time nor the place to capture my attention. As I mentioned, I'm trying to have a meal with my lovely wife here and I would appreciate it if you would please leave."

"Very well then. I'm terribly sorry to bother you."

Mr. Whitman left and was noticeably perturbed. He wasn't used to people treating him that way.

"You didn't even want to hear him out?" Ashley asked.

"Nope. I don't care. I have 'F.U.' money now. I don't need to listen to anybody I don't want to, especially a creep like Robert Whitman."

"You didn't have to be so rude."

"You're right, I'm sorry, babe," Trevor said, caressing Ashley's hand. "I guess I still have a bit of a chip on my shoulder. Be patient with me, I'm a work in progress."