by Piper Rayne
I rush to the agent at the gate and ask if there’s anyone left on the plane.
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s empty. They’re cleaning it for the next flight out.”
I shift the flowers from my right to left hand. “I’m waiting for a friend, Ekaterina Novikova. Was she on the plane?”
“Let me check the roster.” She taps away on her keyboard, eyes scanning the screen quickly. Suddenly, she frowns. “Ms. Novikova was supposed to be on this flight, but she never checked in.”
“Thank you.”
There’s a pit of fear in my stomach wondering why Katya missed her flight. I’m not usually one to worry, but it’s not like her to miss time with me and not call. Then again, maybe she called while I was on my way and I missed it.
Absentmindedly, I turn around and start walking through the concourse. When I see a group of pay phones, I stop and dig into my pocket for change. I quickly punch in the number to her mobile phone. It rings and rings, but she doesn’t answer.
There’s still a possibility that Katya missed her flight and is on a later plane to Detroit and calling her hotel room in New York is a waste of time, but I have to try.
I hang up, deposit more change, then call the Castle, the hotel she always stays at when she’s in the City.
“Thank you for calling the Castle New York,” a woman answers. “How may I help you this evening?”
“Yes, hello. This is Ivan Kravtsov. I need Ekaterina Novikova in room two-fifty-seven, please.” I always tell them my name because I’m on a list of approved callers whose calls can be directed to her room.
“I’m sorry, Sir. Ms. Novikova checked out earlier today.”
“Thank you,” I say, hanging up before the woman can reply.
It’s not like her to not let me know if her plans change. If she missed her flight, she had plenty of time to call before I left the house. I rub my eyes, tired and frustrated. The only thing to do is go back home and check my messages.
The drive home only enhanced the annoyance I already felt leaving the airport alone. What began as a light rain when I got in my car, started coming down so hard I could barely see the lights of the car in front of me. Traffic was so heavy; all the cars literally came to a standstill. Not only was it rush hour, there was also an accident. Even though the police and first responders were at the front trying to clear two of the three lanes to get things moving again, I spent almost an hour sitting there.
It’s after eight when I walk through the door. The first thing I do is toss my keys on the table and rush to the answering machine, hoping there’s a message from Katya. But the light isn’t blinking at all. Anger seeps into every pore.
How could she do something so selfish and not even call?
Just as I turn to go to the living room, I hear a noise. It’s a weird, tiny beeping sound. I glance at the answering machine, but don’t see anything odd. Then, I look at the phone itself. The receiver is partially off the hook.
Shit.
The phone has been off the hook. Even if Katya tried to call, it wouldn’t have gone through. I shrug off my coat, annoyed at myself. Then I trash the flowers and order a pizza. Both anger and worry subside slightly.
To clear my mind, I stretch out on the couch, pop on the T.V., and wait for the pizza to arrive.
Though I’ve hooked up with quite a few women, I’ve only had a couple girlfriends—women I’ve dated more than once. I forgot how edgy it made me feel when I was thinking about another person constantly. Which is probably a big reason I didn’t have many girlfriends—they’re a distraction.
13
Vanya
The next morning, I still haven’t heard from Katya. I try her mobile phone again, but it goes right to a full voice mail box. My heart races, worried at what could have happened that she missed her flight and didn’t call.
I don’t have time to sit and stew because I have to be at the arena for practice. Then, I have a meeting with Brookins and my translator, Viktor “Vitya” Berezin, to sign my newest contract. After months of Kirya negotiating on my behalf, the Chargers and I finally came to an agreement—a four-year, 2.7-million-dollar contract.
I’ve just finished getting dressed when Novotný pops his head into the locker room and tells me my translator is waiting in the hallway. Even though I know Kirya has gone over it a million times, I always send Vitya a copy to review and ask him to join me for meetings when I’m signing documents. You can never be too careful.
“Perfect timing,” I say to myself as I fasten my belt. I grab my coat, stuff my car keys in my pocket, and head to the hallway to meet him.
“Vitya,” I greet the older man. He turns his head and smiles, walking toward me with his beige trench coat flapping against his calves.
“You look tired, Vanya. Have you been getting enough sleep?”
I laugh and kiss his cheeks. “Plenty. Thanks for your concern.”
As we start walking toward the Assistant GM’s office, Vitya leans closer and lowers his voice. “I have more concerns.”
I stop abruptly, uneasy at his surprising comment. “About the contract?”
“Are you mafia, Vanya?” he asks, cutting straight to the point.
I laugh. “No. Why would you ask such a thing?” I start walking again.
“Because your agent is mafia.” Vitya removes his jacket and hangs it over his arm.
Kirya’s affiliations weren’t something I was ever going to bring up, but my friend is a smart, connected man. I knew he would realize sooner or later. “Everyone has shady people in their life. As long as they do well by me, what can I say?”
He grabs my shoulders and holds my gaze. “Let me give you the number of a friend. He can be your agent. Leave the mafia connections behind.”
I laugh. “That’s going to be hard since my agent is my brother-in-law.”
Viktor lifts his hands and steps back as if I’m on fire. “I had no idea.”
“He’s a good man. I owe him my career. I can’t do anything about his ties. They have nothing to do with me.”
“You are who you surround yourself with,” he says in a stern voice.
I slap his shoulder. “I appreciate how you look out for me. But I’ve known Kirya since I was a boy. We’re more brothers than friends. Without his help, I never would have gotten to America. And as my agent, he saved me from being extorted by another bratva.”
“He saved you from paying another bratva because, by being your agent, he’s getting money for his own to be your krysha.”
As we stand outside the office talking in hushed tones, I realize I’ve got to shut it down. I’m not switching agents. On the contrary, I’m about to jump into business with Kirya again soon. But that’s a talk for another day with my American father figure.
“I’m lucky to have you in my life, Vitya. You and Catherine have treated me like family since I’ve been in Detroit, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Let’s put this aside, get in there, and sign a multi-million-dollar contract.”
He slides his arm across my shoulder and gives me a slight hug. “You deserve it, Vanya. You’ve worked very hard for this.”
When I rap my knuckles against Brookins’ office door, his thin, gold-plated name tag rattles against the heavy wood. There’s no answer at first, so I knock again, slightly harder this time.
“Yeah. Come on in,” he calls from inside.
I open the door and walk in before Vitya. “Hey, Brooksy. I have Viktor with me.”
Brookins’ head is down, sleeves rolled up, and he’s scribbling furiously. Then he drops his pen and stands. “Viktor, it’s nice to see you again.” The men shake hands over his desk. He gestures to two empty chairs. “Have a seat, please.”
While we sit down, he shoves a few papers into a manila folder and sets it on a pile of other folders. Then he grabs another one and removes the papers.
I lean forward, grabbing a black pen from a cup on the corner of his desk, excited to sign. I love playing for the Chargers organization
, and I’m proud they want to invest in me and consider me the future of the team.
“You’ve read thorough it, correct? We had a copy translated into Russian and sent to you and your agent.”
I nod.
“Do you have any questions?”
I adjust myself on the seat and throw a glance toward Vitya for confirmation that the contract looks good from his perspective. He shakes his head as if to say “no questions.”
“Great. Just initial here and here, and sign here,” Brookins points to different lines. He puts another piece of paper on top. “And this is for the signing bonus.”
Adrenaline ripples through my veins, and my hands shake as I scratch my name. Never in a million moons did I think I’d be signing a contract for so much money.
Once we’ve finished the paperwork, he stacks it up, secures it with a paperclip, and slides it into another folder. “After Mr. Popovic signs, we’ll send you a copy with original signatures and send a copy to your agent.”
“Sounds good.” My knee shakes as I sit there waiting to be dismissed as he writes something on a sticky note and pops it onto the folder.
Brookins, in particular, doesn’t make me nervous. He’s never made me uncomfortable, and he risked prison-time by being involved in my defection. For that, I’ll always be grateful.
I’m uneasy because sitting in a hockey team’s administrative office reminds me of my time with the Central Scarlet Army. The only time I was asked to report to the coach’s office meant Myskin wanted was going to scream at me about something—usually something insignificant.
“So—” He clears his throat as he sets his pen down. “I saw some articles about you and a tennis player a few weeks back.”
“Yes. Katya Novikova,” I reply, crossing my legs to keep my knee from shaking. I know how some of my teammates feel about my relationship, but I’ve been riding the storm and keeping a low profile with the organization. Up until today, no one has mentioned it. “The press, they talk.”
“Are you aware of what the press is saying?”
“I am aware but,” I pause, trying to think of the English words I need. “I do not listen.”
“Look, Ivan, your personal life is none of my business, but I will say, American press is a beast. Not the local newspapers. While, some people want to hear about the intimate details of your life, most Detroiters only care about what you’re doing on the ice and if it’s going to help us win a Stanley Cup.” He removes his glasses and places both elbows on his huge mahogany desk. He looks tired, like he hasn’t slept in days.
“It’s the paparazzi types you need to watch out for. And Novikova is all the rage. She’s at the top of all of their lists.”
“I understand, Sir. It’s something Katya and I have discussed at length.”
“Like I said, I don’t care about your personal life, but I do care about how it effects your play and this team.”
I lean forward, confused. “Have I been, uh—” I look to Vitya to help me find the word. “Neeffektivnyye?” I ask him.
“Ineffective, underperforming,” he tells me.
I know the answer before I even ask the question. I’m having the best season of my career—as evidenced by the contract I signed moments ago. The stories about Katya and I have been an annoyance, but it hasn’t affected my game. I train hard. I play hard. I’m one-hundred percent focused on my career.
I look to Brookins, who heard Vanya’s translation.
“No. Not at all actually.” He glances around the room as if he was looking for something before finally settling on my face. “I just want to make sure it doesn’t become a distraction.”
“May I speak honest?” I ask.
He nods.
I turn to Vitya, and ask him to translate for me.
“I give you my word that I have never, and would never, let a relationship affect my play. I am one hundred percent committed to this team.”
He nods as Vitya translate my words. “Thank you for your commitment.” He stands up and stretches his hand across his desk. I rise and shake his hand. “We’re excited for the future with you, Ivan. Very excited.”
“Same, Sir.”
Vitya and I leave Brookins’ office and start down the hallway. He’s sliding one arm into his coat when I ask, “Do you think it’s weird that he talked to me about Katya? Is that normal?”
He looks up and shrugs. “I don’t know if it’s normal, but I’m sure many players get a talk when their personal life is all over the news. They’re trying to protect their investment and make sure you’re focused.”
“There are many players—not necessarily on the Chargers—but lots of guys who are with different high-profile women all the time.” I pause, thinking about all the singers, models, and actresses I’ve seen guys with. “It seems to me being in the public eye for dating a lot of women is just as distracting than it would be dating just one,” I reply with a low chuckle.
“Vanya, everyone has personal life. And it’s going to come up every once awhile. Even guys who are married. Stay focused on your game and try not to let the stress of the media get to you.”
I nod. One of the best things about Vitya is that he’ll always tell me the truth, which isn’t always what I want to hear, but at least I know I can trust his opinion.
He claps my shoulder. “Commitment takes time, and so does hockey. Find a balance and always be honest with yourself.”
When I get home from the arena, my phone is ringing. I unlock the door quickly, hoping I get to the kitchen in time to grab it.
I dash through the living room, getting to the receiver on the fifth ring. “Hello?”
“Vanya, it’s me!” Katya says, her voice bright and bubbly as always.
Despite still holding onto a tinge of irritation, I breathe a sigh of relief. After not hearing from her last night, and not being able to reach her, most of the anger I had turned to fear. We hadn’t gone a day without speaking to each other in weeks, and I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong.
“I’m so glad to hear from you, Sunshine. Are you all right? I’ve been worried sick.”
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m so sorry, Vanya.”
“What happened yesterday?”
“I’ll explain everything, I promise. But I have a favor to ask first.”
“A favor? I waited for you at the airport for over an hour yesterday and you have a favor to ask of me?”
“Well, now I’m the one waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me? How?’ I ask.
“I’m at the airport in Detroit, waiting for you to pick me up,” she replies. My face instantly lights up.
“I didn’t realize I was supposed to.”
“That’s the favor.”
“Wait. You’re there now?”
“Yes. My flight got in twenty minutes ago. And it’ll take you about twenty minutes to get here, right?”
“Correct.”
“So we’re even.”
I laugh. “Hold tight, Sunshine. I’m on my way,” I say, hanging the receiver on the cradle before heading back to the front door.
“I can’t wait to see you,” she whispers.
As I pull up in front of the arrivals area at the North terminal, I find Katya right away. She’s sitting on a bench outside the doors with her suitcase at her feet. I pull the car to the side, and get out quickly.
“Vanya!” she cries out when she sees me. She runs toward me and jumps into my arms. Thankfully, I’m ready for it. I’m not prepared for her to pepper my face with kisses.
“Hi, Sunshine,” I say, when she lets up. I nuzzle my face in her neck and inhale her sweet powdery scent. Having Katya in my arms again feels like home. Being with her makes all my doubts wash away.
“I’m so happy to be here right now.” She pulls her head back and looks at me. “I thought you’d hate me.”
“I could never hate you, love.” I smile, cupping her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “What happened yesterda
y?”
When we break apart, she blows into her hands and rubs her them together. “Can we continue this in the car? I have so much to tell you.”
“Of course.”
I open the passenger door and let her get in before shutting it and grabbing her suitcase. After tossing it in the trunk, I get it the car.
Our eyes meet, and I’m immediately drawn to her smile—her lips, actually. Before shifting out of park and getting on the road, I lean over and kiss her. She responds immediately, pressing her mouth to mine with urgency as her fingers weave into my hair. Blood rushes to my dick. I’ve got to get her to my house.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
Her cheeks are flushed as she shakes her head.
“Good, because I can’t wait to get you home.” I wink, then shift into drive and check my mirrors before merging into the traffic leaving the airport. I reach over and set my hand on her thigh. She takes it in both of hers, squeezing it gently.
“Now we can talk, yes?” she asks. “Yesterday was crazy, Vanya. Crazy and wonderful.”
“It must be good if you still had a wonderful day even after missing your flight to see me,” I tease, smiling to make sure she knows I’m poking fun.
“Once you hear why, you’ll be happy for me.” She crosses her arms across her chest and sticks her tongue out at me. “I tried calling you, but I kept getting a busy signal. I called twice from the hotel. I even tried from the party.”
“Yeah,” I say, sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck. “That was my fault. I guess I didn’t hang the phone up all the way and it was off the receiver. I had no idea until I got home from the airport last night. I’m sorry.”
“Oh no!” She laughs, leaning her head against the rest. “It’s a comedy of errors with us sometimes, isn’t it?”
“Right? So, go on. What party?”
“You know that fragrance I’ve been working on with Sierra?” she asks. When I nod, she continues. “I had a meeting scheduled to go over the final marketing promotions, but instead of a meeting, it was a pop-up release party for the fragrance.”
