Excerpt

she was about to make use of it. As she approached, they looked up. One of them, who appeared older than the others, appraised her in a quick sweeping glance from head to foot then addressed her in English.
“You are far from home and cold, I think. I give you my jacket like a lord.” He began to remove his ill-fitting, grey suit jacket.
She laughed and addressed him in Russian. “Thank you. It’s nothing. Please don’t.”
All three men froze. The two younger men turned to face her, surprised at the foreigner who spoke their language. She waited in front of them, enjoying their confusion. They’re just kids, thought Jennifer, but the one holding the jacket is about my age. He had lean features with classic Russian high cheekbones, full lips and unruly dark hair. He swung his jacket over his shoulder, came towards her, then leaned on the bridge railing and continued to stare at her through sad, blue-grey eyes.
Finally he smiled. “It gives me pleasure if you take my jacket.” He was so close now she could smell the brandy on his breath. She backed away uncertainly, then relented. A wave of tenderness had come over her, a feeling akin to when she had first met her husband. The Russian stranger sensed the emotion quickly, read it on her face, and acted. He placed the jacket over her shoulders.
On the canal a small cruiser was coming towards them—an unmarked boat. The other two men turned away from the bridge and motioned to the older one. He nodded.
“Please, my name is Volodya,” he said to her. “Let’s walk.”
The two young men snickered, but they gathered up their packages and trailed behind as she and the Russian man strolled along the embankment.
Jennifer introduced herself and they shook hands formally. He looked at her fingers. “You are married?”
“No. Yes,” she stumbled. Why didn’t she have a ready answer by now? “I’m separated from my husband.”
He nodded, seeming to understand.
“Where is she from?” asked one of the young men behind. “Ask her where she’s from.”
“Quiet, Gennadi. She’s from America. Are you not from America?”
“I’m from Canada.”
“Aaah, Canada. Oscar Peterson. You don’t know music? Then hockey, you know hockey: Phil Esposito.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246