by Lucia Franco
That accent was most definitely Russian. For a gymnast, Kova was tall. Probably around six feet, give or take a few inches. Paired with his profoundly muscular shoulders and firm chest, evidenced by how tight his shirt stretched, he looked like the perfect package, if there ever was one.
My eyes drifted down, and my cheeks bloomed with heat. Oh, my God. Now, I was checking out his package!
“You remember my wife, Joy, and our daughter, Adrianna. Or Ana as we call her.”
I internally rolled my eyes. My name was Adrianna, not Ana. I always hated the nickname. It made me feel like a child being reprimanded, yet they continued using it, knowing how much I detested it. Grin and bear it, I told myself. Grin...and bear it.
As Konstantin shook my mother’s hand, I chuckled on the inside. Her hand was enveloped in his and I would bet she worried he’d chip her nail polish. It was a damn handshake for Christ’s sake, yet she acted like she was so fragile. There was nothing more annoying than when my mom acted like she was made of porcelain. I guarantee her dainty, cold fingers rested in his hand like they were dead, which only seemed to match her icy demeanor.
“Hello again, Kova. You have a nice...facility,” she tried to say with sophistication. I could see right through her bleached teeth and her pretentious personality. An air of money surrounded her and she wore it like a second skin. My mother and I couldn’t be more opposite.
Konstantin turned my way and I nearly lost all common sense. His emerald eyes were encircled by a thick black ring with faint web like lines in the irises. Mesmerizing. They reminded me of a rainforest—beautifully alluring, uncharted territory with no true knowledge of what lurked all around. Framed between thick lashes, his gaze was penetrating, like he could read my deepest, darkest secrets.
“Ana, it is a pleasure to see you again. Last time I saw you, you barely reached my knees and were running around with pigtails. You have grown so much,” he said.
Pigtails? I think I stopped with the pigtails around five. If that was the case, he was clearly over twenty-five.
“Adrianna.” I emphasized my full name. The ends of his lips curved upward just a hint and my stomach tightened. I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear demurely and returned the smile.
“Are you sure you are ready for this? The elite program is completely different than level ten. Much more intense. I have already explained this to your father, but I want to assure you this is going to be nothing like your old gym. You are going to be exhausted, and probably bruised and sore until your body adjusts to the training. Just because your dad and I go way back, do not think for one minute I will be easy. I hope you are ready for that kind of conditioning.”
The overwhelming urge to repeat his thick accent hit me with a vengeance. I wanted to throw my hands in the air and speak extra loud like a boisterous Italian and repeat every word Konstantin had just said. The way he spoke was so sexy, and that whole intense demeanor thing he had going on worked in his favor.
“I am,” I responded confidently.
Glancing back at my parents, he said, “How about we head into my office and go over some paperwork before taking a tour of the gym. Yeah?”
The next thirty minutes were spent going over all the fine print and signing medical release forms. For all I knew, my parents could have sold me into slavery.
My mother appeared as if she suffered from constipation no matter how hard she tried to look composed. Gymnastics, along with legal documents, were so out of her element. Pretending to be a concerned mother was not in her comfort zone. Charity fundraisers were more her thing, where she could dress up, plaster on a phony smile, and act like she gave a shit about something. It was hard to blame her as my own thoughts drifted around the room, taking in the various medals and trophies, quickly losing interest in the topic myself.
The paperwork didn’t interest me, all I wanted to do was get on the floor and feel the carpet beneath my feet. Floor was my absolute favorite event, though I excelled at vault. It was where I felt free and could let go, flying through the air at my heart’s desire. I loved tumbling, loved defying gravity, and secretly prayed to God I wouldn’t land on my ass each time.
I despised beam with pure hatred. But that was another story entirely.
I looked over at my dad in deep conversation with Konstantin. He was interested in knowing more about my training, but then again, he liked reading the small print and knowing exactly what he was paying for. It was why he’d done so well with his own company. No one could nickel and dime him. He loved money and made sure he knew where every penny he made went. And it didn’t matter this was a friend he should probably be able to trust, he’d still cover his bases. However, I wasn’t stupid. I knew this was more about the business side of things for him than giving me something I loved and was passionate about. This was just another deal for him to analyze and negotiate over, rather than my future.
In the midst of explaining the forms and going over my strict training regimen, I heard the words ‘dance class’ and my attention snapped back to the conversation.
“Dance class?” I butted in.
Konstantin lifted a perfectly arched brow, his eyes narrowing as if just realizing I was in the room.
“I was mentioning to Frank that you will be taking ballet class, along with jazz.”
My mouth gaped open. “Ballet?” I asked, annoyance thick in my tone. Please tell me this was a joke. There was no way in hell I’d take ballet. I hated ballet.
“Yes, Adrianna. Ballet. It helps with posture and grace on the floor. Not to mention, flexibility and core strengthening.”
“I have grace and fluidity on the floor already. I don’t need extra dance classes.”
I never had to take ballet back home, so I was certain I didn’t need to take it here. All these extra classes would take away from the one thing I came here to do, and I refused to let that happen.
Konstantin slowly placed his expensive looking, shiny pen down. It was unnerving how he stared at me and I wanted to look away, but I held strong. I kept my eyes trained on him, focusing on the black flecks glittering in his eyes, showing him I wasn’t weak.
“I am going to make it easy for you. You play by my rules here. You either take the classes or you will not train at World Cup.”
Easy. As if I was some moron who didn’t comprehend complex words. My parents hadn’t spent thousands of dollars a year on a private tutor for nothing. I’d had straight A’s since the fifth grade, I was already taking Pre-Cal and college level courses, and he was treating me like I couldn’t spell D-I-C-K.
Slapping on a fake smile, I said in a sugary voice, “Ballet really isn’t necessary. It’d be a complete waste of time. I’ve never needed it before and I don’t need it now.” I finished with a few rapid blinks and waited for his response. This was what I liked to call my “social event face”, a skill my mom taught me. Sweet, innocent, and full of shit, and if you lived in Palm Beach it was considered a standard fashion accessory.
Konstantin paused and simply stared at me for a few heartbeats. Just when I thought I’d won, he pulled back the papers my dad had in his grip. Looking to my dad, he said, “I can see Ana is not ready for this kind of commitment, Frank. It takes dedication, hard work, and most importantly, listening skills. And until she understands it is my way—”
My chest heaved, blood pumping rapidly through my heart. He was rejecting me, saying I couldn’t train here, but I refused to let that be an option. So I cut in before he could speak another word in that stupid Russian accent of his I loved only moments earlier.
“How many of these classes do I have to take?”
He looked back at me. “As many as you need.”
I clenched my teeth and dipped my head slowly in surrender. Despite his good looks, he acted like a total ass, and that was something I wasn’t used to.
Konstantin slid the papers back to Dad, but his gaze never wavered from mine. “I spoke with your old coach and asked about your current training, where you c
ould use improvement. He said you lacked flexibility, which is where ballet comes into play—it helps open your hips, stretch your legs, and gives long lean body lines gymnastics often hardens. Contrary to what you believe, he also mentioned you could use more grace. Dance is an important element to have for balance beam and floor. We want you to flow, not come across as a robot. With that being said, an evaluation will determine what your specific needs are.”
My blood pressure climbed and it took everything in me not to refute his statement. Just when I thought I was moving forward, I really took ten steps back. I was not a stiff robot on the floor like he insinuated. I knew how to move for fuck’s sake.
“And all these extra dance classes—ballet and jazz—are included in her new gym schedule?” My dad piped in, and thank God he did. I was ready to blow a fuse. “She’ll be doing two-a-day, along with training for a total of forty hours a week?”
Konstantin turned back to my dad. “Yes, she will have two days off. What she chooses to do with those days is up to her, but when she is here, she is under my supervision and the control of World Cup, along with the other coaches. As much as I want to put gymnastics first, school is more important, so we work around a schedule for all the gymnasts. Once it is set, she will have to take responsibility and balance it. Typically, there will be practice in the morning where we focus on strength and conditioning, break for school, then gymnastics in the afternoon. Dance will be on rotation.” He took a breath and continued. “Most gymnasts here are in public school, so their hours are always consistent. A few girls share an apartment to help keep their expenses low. I understand you have rented an apartment for her?”
Dad cleared his throat. “I’ve gone ahead and secured one of the top floor units at Cape Harbor for her. It’s a two-bedroom condo across town in one of my gated communities, and I also purchased an SUV for when she’s ready to drive.
“As you know, being a Rossi brings a lot of publicity, and I need to make sure Ana is safe. She appears much older than she is and has a strong head on her shoulders, unlike most girls her age. I know you’ll be nearby if anything should happen, but I still worry about her being so far away. I took the necessary precautions before allowing her to move here. Ana doesn’t want for anything, and anything she does need, she’ll have so she can focus on gymnastics. My wife has even gone the distance to have her meals delivered to her condo and a tutor in place.”
Stifling a groan of embarrassment, I chewed the inside of my lip instead.
Dad always managed to find a way to mention money and how much of it he had. It was humiliating and I detested the pompous manner he spoke about it, friend or not. It was mortifying, especially sharing the fact he ordered meals for me. He knew I was responsible enough to make wise decisions, unlike my brother who reveled in the Rossi name and money.
I stared at Konstantin, trying to gauge his reaction at the unnecessary shit my father elaborated on, but his face gave nothing away. His cold stare—the resting dick face—could rival my mother’s. I stifled a chuckle. The way his presence demanded attention caused my heart to hammer against my ribs. As long as he didn’t open his mouth to spew more ridiculous ballet suggestions, I couldn’t help being drawn to him.
“All right, Adrianna, not only do your parents have to sign, but so do you.” Another form? Enough already. Sell me to China, they have good gymnastics coaches over there. So what if they lie about their ages.
Konstantin handed me a stack of papers.
“The first is your commitment to the gym, your oath to train hard and give one hundred and fifty percent, and to not quit, not that I expect you to. However, should you decide to end your time here at World Cup before the year is over, there will be a hefty fee charged to your parents, just like I do with every teammate. I am sure you know this is not an easy gym to get into, hence the need for this obligation. This agreement is renewed every year.”
Just as I was about to press the pen down to sign my name, naturally Mom had to get her two cents in.
“Ana, this is a very expensive endeavor. I’m sure more than most parents would be willing to spend. We know you’re responsible and trust you to do the right thing, but your father and I would be very upset if we had to pay an unnecessary fee on top of it all,” she warned with glaring eyes. “Are you sure you’re committed to this?”
“More than anything in the world,” I mumbled under my breath. If she wanted to test my resolve at the eleventh hour, she could throw any doubts out the window. I was looking my dream straight in the face, and a few more documents to sign would not get between my goals and me.
“Anything?” Her voice heightened her question. She had no idea how much this meant to me, or how dedicated I was to gymnastics.
“She gets it, Joy,” Dad said, and then gave me a satisfied smile.
For whatever reason, my mom pushed me hard on just about everything. It was disconcerting and I wished she’d back off and encourage me instead.
Dad understood my dedication because he was the same way. Once we found something to pour all our sweat and blood into, there was no going back. Our devotion drove us.
“All right, the next document states you will not date anyone while you are under my authority and training,” Konstantin said, eyeing me as he slid it across his desk. He couldn’t be serious. I’d never heard of a coach doing this before.
“I know it sounds juvenile, but this is actually a very important piece of paper you will have to sign. I do not need you losing your focus. You will end up skipping practices and pissing me off. It could ruin your career and it will only waste my time. My time is precious. I expect, and deserve, your focus and determination, not anyone else.”
“I understand.”
I scribbled my name without reading and pushed it back. Konstantin held my gaze. “You should always read the fine print before you sign anything,” he said quietly, sounding disappointed.
He peered down at my signature, his eyes moving as he read. “Right here states,” he said, pointing, “you will be under my supervision during gym time.” Konstantin handed a paper to my father and said, “This is basically the same agreement I gave your daughter. Since she is fifteen and with no real parental guidance, she will be under the supervision of World Cup while training here. Anything she does after she steps out of the gym is not my responsibility; therefore, neither I, nor World Cup will be held accountable for her actions. All the gymnasts living on their own while training here must sign it.”
Dad read over it silently then looked at me and said, in an unyielding voice, “I hope you realize how much faith and trust we’re putting in you to be responsible, young lady. This is no joke.”
Wide eyed, I nodded. “I understand completely, Dad.”
Dad signed the agreement and Konstantin stacked the papers together, bound them with a paper clip and set them aside. Kova crossed his arms firmly across his chest, leaned back in his leather chair, and looked directly at me.
“My training is unconventional, it is tough and brutal. There will be days when you will not be able to stand the sight of me. It is intense and exhausting. I am not here to be your friend, I am not here to pat your back when times get rough, I am not here to coddle you. I am here to be your coach and help get you to the next level. I come from Russia with some of the strictest coaching around. I have learned from the best, and just because you are your father’s daughter does not mean I will go easy on you. You will forget everything you were taught in the past and relearn through me. I will give you all the possible means you need, but it is up to you to dig deep and be the athlete you want to become. You must have the drive and the passion in order to go places. I am just here to guide you down that path and show you your capability.” He paused. “This, Adrianna, is your chance to leave. I can rip up these papers and you all can go home.”
I looked at Konstantin and realized two things: I was about to get my ass handed to me, and he didn’t use contractions.
Okay, so I was still a littl
e obsessed with what came out of his mouth. I couldn’t help it, that accent was sexy as hell.
I stared at Konstantin with confidence. He met my gaze. With all the passion and drive that breathed through my veins for my love of gymnastics, I poured it into my next sentence.
“I’m not leaving.”
The wicked smile that slid across his face nearly knocked the wind out of me.
“Well, that wraps up all the necessary formalities. If you would like, I can show you around the gym now.”
Konstantin opened the door leading into the impressive gym. We followed close behind, taking in every square inch around us. I couldn’t stop the unsteady leaps in my stomach from the adrenaline pumping through my blood.
It reminded me of walking into home period on the first day of school. I hadn’t had this feeling in quite some time since I’d been homeschooled for the past year, but I remembered it like it was yesterday. Everyone hated the first day.
Gymnasts on the nearby apparatus glanced up, surveying us from head to toe. Mom didn’t miss a beat in her three-inch Christian Louboutin heels while my dad strutted around like he owned the place. And here I was in dark denim shorts, a baby doll shirt, and sandals, feeling every bit as relaxed as the Floridian I was.
Konstantin showed us all the parts of the gym, including the rooms in the back that I was curious about. I assumed they were for strength training, but they were actually used for various dance classes and stretching techniques.
“Holly, watch yourself on that dismount. Remember, even the smallest step is a tenth of a deduction. Girls, I would like you to meet Adrianna. She is a level ten, but plans to test for elite. She will be your new teammate here.”
He made his way over to the uneven bars and introduced the girls. “This is Reagan and Sarah.” He nodded his head at each of the girls, arms crossed firmly against his chest. “They are senior gymnasts and have been training in the elite program for a couple of years. If you have any questions about what goes on here, I am sure they will be more than happy to help.” Motioning to another girl, he said, “This is Holly. She has been with World Cup since she was a child, her twin brother is also training here.”
