Serenity (Inevitable Book 5)

by Janet Nissenson

  Sasha had always been a quiet, placid child, a stark contrast to her explosive, intense parents, and in some ways she had acted as a calming influence on the two of them. She’d gone along with their wishes, never complaining when she was uprooted yet again, or when she spent weeks on the road with one or the other on a tour.

  But all of that changed when she turned fifteen, and had quite firmly set her foot down about the nomadic existence that had been forced on her. Katya and Enzo had been startled when their obedient child had spoken up for herself for the first time, but neither had argued the point for too long when she’d calmly announced that she was going to live with her aunt Linda in northern California full time. And while her mother had grudgingly accepted her decision, Sasha sensed that Katya had never really forgiven her for it.

  Knowing that a phone call from her mother meant twenty minutes minimum of lots of drama and heavy sighs, Sasha wisely waited until she arrived home before returning the call. She’d made the mistake once or twice of taking Katya’s calls on the bus, and cringed as she recalled the odd looks directed her way from other passengers as her mother’s very loud voice chattering away in rapid Russian had carried over the phone.

  The house was quiet as Sasha let herself in, and she assumed her other roommates were either out or closeted up in their rooms. Chad and Julio, who owned the house, were almost certainly out somewhere on this sunny summer day. They had a wide circle of friends, both gay and straight, and were constantly being invited to picnics, brunches, parties, and other social doings. They also did their fair share of hosting parties here at the house, and Sasha wasn’t in the least fazed to arrive home to find forty or fifty people milling about with cocktails in hand and music blaring from the sound system.

  Her other two roommates were Elliott, a nerdy computer programmer whose bedroom was a semi-shrine to all things Star Wars, and Sadie, who was working on her PhD in Genetics while moonlighting as an exotic dancer to help pay the bills. It was, for sure, a rather odd household, but everyone got along extremely well, and Sasha was more than content with her somewhat unorthodox living arrangements.

  She made a comfortable enough living now, between teaching yoga and doing massage, that she could have afforded to live alone, albeit in a tiny studio apartment given how high rents were going for these days in San Francisco. But Sasha had never lived alone in her entire life, had always been surrounded by people - often strangers - and wasn’t at all sure that she’d like having her own place.

  She took a leisurely shower, ate a bowl of Greek yogurt, fresh berries, and granola, then brewed a cup of tea before finally – reluctantly - returning her mother’s call. As she carried her steaming cup of herbal tea out to the small but sunny backyard of the house, Sasha hoped she wouldn’t feel the need to drink something a whole lot stronger than tea after the phone call with Katya. She seldom indulged in alcohol, but there had certainly been occasions after a conversation with her fiery mother that she’d wished for a glass of wine - followed by several shots of pure Russian vodka.

  Sasha usually had a pretty good idea of what her mother’s current mood was depending on the language she began the conversation with. If Katya was in good spirits, more or less content with the way her day was going, then she’d speak in English. But if she was upset about something - which she frequently was - then the conversation would begin in rapid, agitated Russian. Sasha kept her fingers crossed as her mother answered the call that it would be the former rather than the latter.

  “Aleksandra. What took you so long to call your mother back?”

  Sasha sighed. Not only was Katya speaking Russian but she was also calling Sasha by her full name, a sure sign that she was upset about something.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” replied Sasha with a long-practiced calm. “I stayed at the studio after class to work on my own practice. And you know I hate calling you from the bus. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, yes,” assured Katya impatiently. Then, with a little sniff, she added, “All this time you spend doing the yoga you could be dancing instead. If you practiced your dance even a little, Aleksandra, you could be on the show with me. You’re so much better than all of these silly little American girls, or the one from Australia who is nowhere near as good as she thinks she is. I mentioned the idea to the producer once, and he thought it would be wonderful to have a mother and daughter both on the show. Though if that happened everyone would know how old I am so perhaps not.”

  “Mama, you know that’s not going to happen anyway,” Sasha pointed out gently, her Russian every bit as fluent as her mother’s. “My competitive dancing days are long over. That’s not the sort of life I want for myself.”

  “Hmmpf.” Katya made a small sound of disgust. “None of these other girls would ever be able to compete in an actual ballroom competition. You could dance circles around them even now. But I know better than to convince you to resume your training. You choose the yoga and living like a hippie over the kind of life you could have down here.”

  Katya had been living full time in Los Angeles for nearly ten years now, and had taken to the glitzy lifestyle like a duck to water. Sasha paid her mother a very reluctant visit twice a year, and couldn’t wait to return back to San Francisco each time, the crowds and traffic in L.A. more than a little claustrophobic.

  “How are things going at the studio, Mama?” asked Sasha, smoothly changing the subject.

  In addition to appearing on Beyond Ballroom, Katya owned a popular dance studio in Los Angeles. The studio specialized in ballroom, of course, but also offered classes in ballet, jazz, hip hop, and theater dance. The place had been bankrolled a few years back by one of Katya’s celebrity partners on the show - an older restaurant magnate who’d been more than a little enamored of his fiery Russian partner. When Sasha had quizzed her mother about whether she’d actually had a fling with the man, Katya had coyly changed the subject, but the implication had been rather glaring.

  “Good, good. A little slow right now since it’s the summer, but once the show starts up again next month the students will come back from their vacations. I hired a new teacher - a nice Russian boy, one who trained with one of my old teachers. Next time you come to visit I’ll introduce you to him, Aleksandra. You’ll be thirty soon, and it’s time you started thinking about settling down. And Pasha is a very handsome young man, a fantastic dancer. The two of you would make a beautiful couple.”

  Sasha rolled her eyes. This was far from the first time her mother had tried to fix her up with someone, or hinted about her “advanced” age. Sasha resisted the impulse to remind Katya that she had never married, as that particular topic typically sent her off on a rant of some sort about Enzo.

  “His name is Pasha?” she asked instead. “Wouldn’t that be adorable - Pasha and Sasha. But I’ll pass on meeting your newest protégé, Mama, thanks all the same.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you’re dating some hippie who also teaches the yoga. Or does the massaging. How does he expect to support a wife and children doing those things?” asked Katya scathingly.

  With Katya, it was always “the” yoga or “the” massage, as though she found both professions equally distasteful. But Sasha knew better than to argue with her mother on the matter, and simply changed the subject.

  “Do you know yet who your new partner is going to be for the fall season?” she asked, knowing how much her mother adored talking about the TV show.

  “Pah!” Katya spat out in disgust. “That is why I called you, Aleksandra. Can you believe they want me to dance with this fat old man? They tell me he used to be on the television a long time ago, some program where he was some sort of policeman. Or detective, I don’t remember which one. But he’s at least seventy years old now, out of shape, losing his hair. Ugh. He looks nothing like the photograph they showed me of him when he was on the television. I can already tell he’s going to be clumsy as an ox, and he’s going to get us voted off the show within the first two weeks.”r />
  Sasha tucked her bare feet under her as she settled more deeply into the padded outdoor lounge chair, and merely continued to sip her tea calmly as Katya went on and on about her new partner. It was very obvious to Sasha that the real reason her mother was upset was because she was ultra-sensitive about her own age. Beyond Ballroom liked to rotate their professional dancers in and out of the lineup, introducing new faces and sitting out some of the older ones for a season in order to keep things fresh. And each time a pretty twenty-something female dancer was brought on board, Katya’s hackles went up, for she feared it would only be a matter of time before the show’s producers decided she was too old now to compete.

  Fortunately, Katya was extremely popular among the viewers, for they liked her feisty, bossy Russian temperament, and she had a way of bringing out the best from her partners. Sasha had little doubt that the fat, balding seventy year old would not be voted off the show within the first two weeks, and would actually wind up staying on much longer than anyone would initially predict.

  Half an hour later, Katya had finally exhausted her supply of insults, and had begun instead to think of ways she could possibly make something of her partner. She bade Sasha good-bye, but not before chastising her one more time about her lack of a boyfriend, and urged her to come visit soon.

  “If you don’t want to meet Pasha, I can maybe introduce you to one of the new celebrities on the show. Don’t you dare tell anyone,” cautioned Katya dramatically, “but I just learned that Rafe Constantine is going to be on the show this season. Why I couldn’t have had him for a partner I have no idea. But I could set you up with him, Sasha, if you’re interested. He’s very successful, you know, not like the yoga or the massage people you date.”

  Sasha didn’t bother telling her mother that not only did she have zero idea who this Rafe Constantine was, but that she rarely ever dated fellow yoga teachers or massage therapists. The former admission would trigger a shocked reaction from Katya that Sasha didn’t know who this supposedly famous person was, while denying the latter would be met with disbelief.

  Still, as she ended the call and sat quietly for a few more minutes enjoying the warm summer sunshine, Sasha was honest enough to admit to herself that there was in fact something missing from her life. She had good friends and a loving family, even if some of the latter drove her to distraction at times; adored the work that she did and felt fulfilled by it every single day; lived in a warm, friendly household with an interesting assortment of roommates. She resided in what she considered one of the most beautiful, fascinating cities in the world, and was young, healthy, and vibrant.

  But there was no denying that there were gaps in her life here and there, ones that had been made more evident over the past year when two of her closest friends - Julia and Tessa - had both fallen in love and gotten married. And while Sasha had never been the sort of woman who needed or wanted a man for the sole purpose of defining who she was, there were definitely times when she thought it would be nice to have someone special in her life.

  ‘It will happen one of these days,’ she told herself with a calm confidence. ‘And most likely when you’re least expecting it to do so.’

  Chapter Five

  September

  “That was one of the best meals I’ve ever had in my life, Tessa. And I’m not just saying that because I haven’t had an actual home-cooked meal in longer than I can remember,” added Matthew teasingly.

  Tessa Gregson smiled warmly at her dinner guest. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Matthew,” she told him softly. “And I’m so sorry that we haven’t managed to have you over before now. Between business trips and our vacation with Ian’s family in Tuscany last month, it’s been an incredibly hectic summer.”

  “Not to worry,” he assured her. “Besides, that meal was worth waiting for. I understand now why Ian works out so often and so intensely if you cook for him like this every night.”

  Ian grinned, giving his dark head a brief shake. “Not every night, no. At least not a feast like this. I’d easily be twenty pounds heavier if my bride cooked this way all the time. But she does adore taking care of me, and insists on cooking almost every night of the week despite how busy she is.”

  Tessa shrugged, taking a sip of the very expensive Chardonnay that Matthew had brought as his contribution to dinner. “I’m not that busy,” she demurred. “Not like you and Matthew are. And I like to cook. Besides, Ian’s right. We usually have a very simple meal most evenings - just some fish or chicken with vegetables or a salad.”

  “Well, I certainly wouldn’t call tonight’s dinner simple,” declared Matthew, indicating the array of serving dishes and bowls that were spread out on the glass-topped patio table. “You definitely outdid yourself, Tessa. And my stomach and I are very, very appreciative!”

  The weather had been unseasonably hot in San Francisco today, hovering in the low nineties, and it was still quite warm at seven-thirty in the evening. Tessa had chosen to serve dinner on the spacious, flagstone courtyard located just outside the French doors leading to the kitchen. Matthew liked the quiet intimacy of the Gregsons’ outdoor space, vastly preferring it to the sprawling grounds of the Hillsborough estate that had never truly felt like a home to him.

  And he’d sure as hell never enjoyed a home-cooked meal like the one Ian’s wife had just prepared for them – a perfectly seasoned and grilled surf and turf combination of juicy Chateaubriand and tiger prawns, accompanied by a wedge salad, saffron risotto, fresh vegetables, and soft, buttery rolls. And when both men had stuffed themselves of the delicious meal until they were groaning a bit, Tessa had laughingly warned them to find a bit of room for dessert – an apricot tart she’d made from scratch, using fruit she had just picked up this morning at the farmers market.

  Matthew patted his very full belly. “I might need to wait a bit before I can do that tart justice,” he cautioned.

  “There’s no rush,” replied Ian, as he topped off their wine glasses. “Unless, of course, you plan on working when you return home tonight.”

  Matthew shook his head. “I promised myself not to even think about work tonight. I’ve been putting in way too much time lately, both at the office and after hours as well. I fell asleep in my office yesterday, literally face planted right on my desk. Elena swore I’d been out for over half an hour when she found me that way.” He winced, rubbing his nape. “Guess that’s why I can barely move my neck today.”

  “You need a massage,” declared Tessa. “And not just because you have a sore neck. I’m guessing with everything you’re going through right now that your stress level is off the charts.”

  Matthew grimaced. “That’s probably the understatement of the century, Tessa. And a massage would definitely do me wonders right now. I’ll ask Elena to call the health club tomorrow and try to set something up with one of their therapists.”

  Tessa shook her blonde head. “Don’t bother with one of those guys,” she told him. “From what I’ve heard they’re all brute strength and zero finesse. If you want a real therapeutic massage, you need to call Sasha. When she lays her hands on you for the first time, you’ll melt right there on the massage table.”

  Matthew frowned. “Sasha? Why does that name sound so familiar? I – oh, now I remember. She was one of your bridesmaids, wasn’t she? The one with all that curly hair who was dancing up a storm at the pre-wedding party. And - God, I forgot all about this until now. I ended up talking to her at the wedding for a little while. I was at the bar belting back another bourbon when she came up and asked the bartender for hot water so she could brew some sort of tea she’d brought along with her.”

  Ian rolled his eyes. “Yes, that definitely sounds like something Sasha would do. I always considered my diet to be extremely healthy until she told me I was missing at least a dozen different nutrients and vitamins, and wrote up a list of supplements I should be taking. But she does knows her stuff, Matthew. And she’s definitely the best masseuse I’ve ever had.
You wouldn’t imagine that someone as slim as she is could also be so strong, but she’s made me yelp more than a few times.”

  Matthew groaned. “And I also just remembered that she encouraged me to get a massage. She, uh, sort of strong-armed me into dancing with her, and could tell how tense I was just from that contact. I was supposed to ask one of you for her business card after you got back from your honeymoon, but, well, it’s sort of been a hell of a summer, you know?”

  “We get it,” assured Tessa gently, patting him on the arm. “You’ve had a lot on your plate with the separation and work and your children. Let me go find one of her business cards for you now, Matthew. Be right back.”

  Matthew didn’t miss the possessive way Ian watched his wife as she hurried through the French doors inside the house, and smiled a little wistfully. Had he ever felt that way about Lindsey, even when they’d been newlyweds? It was extremely obvious to even a casual observer that Ian and Tessa were both madly in love, and also enjoyed a deeply passionate relationship.

  “I envy you, Ian,” he admitted with a sigh. “In the nearly twenty years that Lindsey and I were together, I’m not sure she ever once looked at me the way your wife’s been staring at you all evening. Then again, I’m not sure I’ve met any couple who seem as crazy about each other as you and Tessa do. Not to repeat myself, but you’re a very, very lucky man.”

  Ian smiled. “I am lucky. And I’m the first to admit it. And, yes, I realize that what Tessa and I have together is very rare, very special. I just wish that you had known that sort of love in your own marriage, at least for a time. Or that at the very least you might be able to have that sort of relationship with someone else one of these days.”