Chapter 12
About midday the following day, Sasha gave me a call. I stepped away from my desk, and headed to The Sports Daily kitchen to chat.
“Hey you,” I said, “how're things?”
“Good,” she said, “very good in fact. Just checking you’re coming to the media box for the next game?”
“I haven’t got my weekly roster from The Sports Daily yet, but assume yes and I’ll confirm ASAP,” I said. “They’ve sent me to everyone this season, so the odds are good. Why, short on space?”
She sighed. “The national league magazine is going to be in town and wants four places ... it shouldn’t be a problem, but I just want to look after our regulars first.”
“Thanks, appreciate it.”
“So, what have you done to The Russian?” she asked.
Last time I had heard he was okay. My breath hitched.
“Nothing, why?”
“Because when I dropped in on him before, he was watching one of your old games on his computer ... hmm ...” she said, “sounds like someone’s a bit keen.”
“Really?” I asked, with a bit of a squeal, unfortunately.
“From what I could see before he paused it and glared at me, it was the finals against the New York Sparks,” she said. Sasha knew her sport.
“Good, I won best on the court for that game,” I said, a big smile on my face, which fortunately she couldn’t see.
“Did you do a gym wear photo shoot too?” she asked.
“Yes! A couple of years ago for Planet Fit Sportswear, paid off half my car. Don’t tell me ...”
“Yep, your lover was checking that out too, I saw the tab open. Don’t tell him I told you, just thought you’d like to know he was perving on you,” Sasha said.
“You’re right, very happy about that. Thanks for calling, you wonderful source of good news.”
Sasha laughed. “See you at the game unless I hear otherwise,” she said.
So The Russian was watching me play and checking out my modeling work ... The Russian liked me enough to go on YouTube and find my last finals game and watch me play. Yes! I wondered if he’d bring it up.
*****
That evening, just after seven p.m., The Russian parked kerbside outside his parents’ house. Their house was big, but not obnoxious ... it was stately but didn’t stand out. I suspect regardless of the money The Russian made and could have—and most likely would have offered them—they liked to keep their feet firmly planted on the ground. The house was in a new estate with wide streets and other similar sized big homes, that all shared a communal park; it had a nice vibe about it. I relaxed a bit on seeing it – I don’t know what I had been expecting, a mansion maybe. My family home was attached to the church ... a reverend usually got it as part of his package so I’d lived in churchyards all my life. Sometimes with cemeteries out the front too, which other kids thought was weird, but when you didn’t know any different ...
I felt The Russian’s hand cover mine for just a moment before he turned off the ignition.
“You’re not nervous, are you?” he asked with the hint of a grin.
“No, more curious to find out what sort of superior beings created this perfect specimen,” I said, playing into his hand. “I’ll be okay, I’ve met a few parents in my time.”
“Have you now,” he said, undoing his seatbelt. He made a sort of unimpressed sound as if I should have been a virgin, at home waiting for him.
I unbuckled and opened the door; The Russian was on my side before I finished stepping out; he closed the door for me. As we made our way up the driveway, the door opened and a young girl and a beautiful cream Labrador came bounding towards us.
“Alex,” she screamed with delight, her braids dancing as she looked from me to Alex and back. So did the dog. Not sure where to go first, she ran headlong into Alex, wrapping herself around him, and the dog jumped on me with his tongue at the ready for an affectionate lick. Good thing I loved dogs.
“Brodie, down,” Alex ordered the dog, “Tia, Tia, Tia,” he spun her around as she squealed in delight. He put her down and she raced up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist.
I laughed with surprise.
“Carla, I would like you to meet my sister Natalia, she’s the one attached to you,” The Russian said, and bent down to give Brodie some rough-and-tumble.
“Tia,” she corrected him and then looked back at me. She was a cutie – the opposite to The Russian in coloring; as dark as The Russian was, she was as fair as snow with blonde hair in braids, blue eyes and pale skin.
“Hello Tia and ...”
“Brodie,” she said, introducing me to the family Labrador.
“Ah Brodie, of course,” I said.
She released me from the hug and took my hand. “Mom’s been cooking and cleaning all day, but you can’t tell her I told you that because she said we had to make you feel welcome and we weren’t allowed to ask you any nosy questions.”
I laughed again and The Russian just shook his head as we started up the path, Brodie racing in front and Tia taking both of our hands like our love child ... I wish.
“Do you like my brother?” she asked.
“I do, most of the time,” I said.
“Me too, except when he tickles me,” she said.
“I thought you loved that,” The Russian said, and grabbed her and began tickling. She squealed with delight and he lowered her to the ground as his mother and father appeared in the doorway. I could see traces of The Russian in both of them – his mother was tall, thin and fair; his father was tall, of solid build and dark.
He embraced them both and then introduced me.
“Good to meet you Mr and Mrs Renwick,” I said.
“James, please,” his father said, shaking my hand.
“And you must call me Lana,” his mother said. “Come in, please Carla, you are most welcome.”
His father sounded very much American and with a surname like Renwick, I suspected he was. His mother’s accent was still very noticeable in her clipped words and I guessed from The Russian’s nickname where she came from.
We stumbled in with Tia and Brodie trying to push through the door at the same time. Inside, the house was spacious but full of family clutter ... photos, trophies, drawings, games – a large unfinished jigsaw puzzle sat on the snooker table and the game Twister was spread out on the floor; I swear I hadn’t played Twister since primary school.
I would have liked to play nude Twister with The Russian ... really, where had that thought come from in this wholesome family moment?
Framed photos of the family at many different walks of life adorned the walls and I intended to spend some time looking at the young Alex on Santa’s knee and in other poses as soon as I could get to them. Yep, that would be stored away for later teasing.
“Don’t even think about it,” he whispered in my ear, following my gaze.
“What?” I asked innocently and he narrowed his eyes at me.
The Russian’s dad, James, busied himself getting us both a drink and within a minute two more girls—both in their teens—came down the stairs. The family was split ... Tia and one of the other girls looked like their mother, Lana; The Russian and the eldest girl looked like their father, James.
“Alex has a girlfriend,” Tia teased. “Carla these are my sisters ...”
Lana re-entered the room after checking on dinner, which was filling the house with a mouth-watering scent. “Tia, I’m sure your brother can do the introductions ... Carla is his guest.”
Young Tia sighed as if her skills were not appreciated.
The eldest of the two girls stepped forward and offered me her hand. She was a very attractive female version of The Russian, only shorter, shorter than me too, with long dark hair and large dark eyes.
“Hello Carla, I’m Ana,” she said.
“Anastasia,” Tia piped up.
“Quiet please, Natalia,” she said, putting Tia back in her place. We shook hands.
“Good to meet you,” I said.
“You too. I’m always surprised when someone likes my brother,” she said, giving him a smirk. He grabbed her in a hug and kissed her roughly on the cheek. She pulled away and made a show of wiping her face, but I could tell she loved it, she was grinning from ear-to-ear.
“And I’m Nikita, but everyone calls me Nikki,” a teenager who liked like an older carbon copy of young Tia, with the blonde hair and blue eyes, said.
“Nikita,” I repeated her name. “Such beautiful names – Anastasia, Nikita and Natalia.”
“Beautiful Russian names,” The Russian’s mother agreed. “Since we moved to America before the girls were born, we compromised by giving them Russian names to keep a little of my history alive. They were names of women in my family.” She gave her husband an affectionate look.
“And Alex, is that Russian?” I asked, frowning.
“Alexei,” Lana said, looking at her son.
I turned my eyes to him and grinned. And thus, I worked out how The Russian once got his nickname.
“Alexei, that’s beautiful,” I said.
The Russian winced. “Yeah, I’m starving,” he said, in a bad attempt to change the subject. His mother laughed.
“Come on then, let’s eat. Nikki, can you help me with the salads please? James, will you serve the stroganoff, Ana please top up our glasses, Tia if you can turn that music off and Brodie eat your dinner,” she said, directing the dog. “Alex, you make Carla feel at home.”
“Can I help at all?” I asked, following everyone into the large open plan kitchen and dining area.
“Yes please, Carla,” Lana said, “you can keep Alex away while we serve, so he doesn’t pick.”
“I’m always ganged up on here,” he grumbled good-naturedly.
“Come then, you can walk me through the photos and I’ll make sure you stay away from the plates.”
“This dinner was a bad idea,” he mumbled, following me back over to the wall of framed photos, not far from all the activity at the kitchen bench. He pulled me away from the photos of him and started at the end with the older family photos. The Russian photos from Lana’s side were severe – somber subjects looking into the camera, looking less than happy.
“Russia and its people have not had a happy history,” The Russian explained as he pointed out Lana’s parents.
“Is Lana a Russian name too? It doesn’t sound Russian?” I asked.
“It’s short for Svetlana,” he said. “And here’s Dad’s parents and grandparents.”
I looked at the subjects all suited up and the women with their hats and dresses covering every inch of their body.
The Russian pointed out a great shot of his parents on the crumbling Berlin Wall.
“That’s where my parents met. Mom was traveling around Europe, Dad was there working as an engineer.”
I loved watching The Russian as he told me about his family. His deep voice warming me, his strong presence beside me sending sparks through my whole body.
The Russian’s father piped in from the open plan kitchen. “I had only been qualified a few years, but the company I was working for won a contract to do a project in Berlin,” he said. “The moment I saw Lana on the wall, waving her banner, it was love at first sight. I wasn’t going back to the States without her, and luckily she was so charmed by me that she agreed.”
Lana blushed and shook her head at him. Yep, like father like son.
“Did you love him at first sight too, Mom?” Tia asked.
“Of course, you know that story,” she said, shutting the discussion down. Clearly Lana wasn’t one for expressing emotions out loud.
“Did you love Alex at first sight Carla?” Tia said, turning to me.
“Tia!” Her mother shook her head.
“Of course she did, she’s smitten,” The Russian said to Tia. His two other sisters Ana and Nikki groaned, and I laughed.
“He is handsome,” Tia said, smiling up at her big brother with a look of adoration.
“Very handsome,” Alex agreed and she giggled.
I moved to the next set of photos. “And look at that cutie.” There was a great shot of his parents out the front of what must have been their first house, holding baby Alex, along with a series of shots of the four children from school days all the way through.
“Yeah, I was a cute kid, not much has changed,” The Russian agreed.
“Alexei, you were a beautiful boy,” his mother agreed, embarrassing him this time. “Ladies on the street would stop me to look at you.”
“You should have stopped at perfection then,” he said, teasing his sisters.
“They did,” Nikki added. “One boy broke the mold. After that, Mom and Dad only wanted girls, far less trouble.” She made a face at her brother.
Lana placed the large dish of steaming stroganoff in the center of the table and James began to serve it. Next to her Russian specialty, she placed some homemade corn bread. Nikki followed with two large bowls of salad. I was ravenous and it looked delicious.
“Please be seated,” Lana said, and The Russian pulled out a chair for me and then sat himself down beside me. The table was nicely set with a navy blue tablecloth and white dinner set. The family didn’t say grace like my family always did, but I said my own few words privately. Then the bowls began to fly around the table.
“This is wonderful Lana, thank you. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal since I went home after last season.”
“We’ve checked you out,” Nikki piped up, “you’re an amazing basketball player. You could beat Alex at it.”
“I’d hope so,” Alex said, “since I play soccer.”
“Thank you,” I said, sheepishly. “Although this is my last season.”
“That’s sad about your injury,” Ana agreed. “Do you have a degree to fall back on?” I noticed Ana—the eldest daughter—glanced at her parents as she said this ... given she was college age, I suspected there had been some debate about her continuing on to study.
I nodded in the affirmative. “I’m a qualified journalist. I’m doing some sports reporting at the moment, including reporting the Saints games.”
“Always good to have a qualification behind you that you can fall back on,” James added in the way you’d expect parents to do and with a glance to Ana.
“Yes, that’s what my father says,” I added. “What are you studying, Ana ... I’m guessing you’re at college?”
“Law,” she said, “but I’m only in my first year.”
“That will be very handy, especially for Alex with his contract,” I said.
“If she hurries up and gets enough skills to be useful,” he said, teasing her. “At the rate Ana’s going, my career will be over before graduation.”
“Alex won’t be able to afford me, but I’d love to do sports law, particularly basketball contracts,” she threw back at him with a grin.
I felt so at home even though the family was three times the size of my small family unit. Lana asked about my family and James asked about my remaining basketball season. The Russian looked at me with what looked like pride on his face ... like we were boyfriend and girlfriend and he was proud of me. I wondered when we’d officially become that.
I smiled and looked away before I self-combusted with passion and desire, and set the table on fire at the same time. His hand touched my knee under the table and I swear I nearly shot up to the roof. Luckily Tia was holding court at the time and no one noticed. Then she turned her attention back to me.
“Will you marry Alex?” she asked.
Everyone laughed, except Lana.
“Tia, what did I tell you about asking personal questions?” Lana asked her daughter.
“That it’s rude and I am not to do it,” Tia said, with a sigh again.
“That is correct. Apologize to Carla please,” Lana said.
“Sorry Carla. But I want to be a flower girl ... if you marry Alex, have you got a little sister or will you need a flower girl?”
“I will need one if I ask your brother to marry me,” I teased.
“But he has to ask you!” she said.
Her mother gave me a smile that said she approved of a strong, independent woman.
“Not anymore,” Ana told her little sister, “girls can ask anyone we like.”
“But I’ll be doing the asking,” The Russian said, going all alpha on me.
“So if Carla asks you, you’d say no?” Ana studied him.
The Russian nodded and I raised an eyebrow in his direction. “But then I’d ask her right back straight away,” he said. “And probably do a better job of it.”
“You are such a big head,” I said with a smile, shaking my head at him.
Tia giggled. “So I can ask a boy to marry me!” She sounded way too excited about it, like she had someone in mind.
“When you are grown up and I’ve approved of them,” Alex added. “Speaking of which, Dad tells me you’ve started seeing someone from College, Ana ... when do I get to meet him?”
I chuckled beside him at his overprotective ways.
Ana smirked at him. “I think that’s Dad’s job, Alex, and he’s met Tyler.”
“I’m happy for Alex to take over the role,” his father said. “They might be more worried about the consequences of not looking after my daughters then.”
“There you go,” Alex said, grabbing the serving dish of stroganoff, offering it to me first and then helping himself to seconds. “What does this Tyler character do?”
“I’m not telling you,” she said. “I may let you meet him at some point and time. Actually, he was keen for tickets to your next home game ...”
“Ah, well that’s easily done,” Alex said.
“Thanks,” Ana grinned at her brother.
“Once I’ve checked him out and approved him.”
She groaned. “Did your brother check out Alex, Carla?” she asked me.
“I don’t have a brother, but Dad’s yet to meet Alex. My dad’s a reverend,” I said.
“Lord help us,” James added and I giggled beside him. “Your father’s got his work cut out for him with Alex.”
“Miracles do happen,” I said, and Alex gave me a look that said he was unimpressed. Ha!
“Don’t worry Son, I’m really on your side,” James said. “I’ll tell you how I won over your mother’s father, and he was a very fearsome Russian politician.”
“My father died before you met him,” Lana said.
“And that’s how it’s done,” James said and we all laughed. Lana shook her head at him. I could see where The Russian’s dry humor came from.
“Nikki’s just broken up with her boyfriend,” Tia said.
We all turned to look at Nikki who then got a bit teary eyed. I heard The Russian groan ... I don’t think he was comfortable with tears.
“Shoosh Tia,” Nikki snapped at her.
“Don’t worry, Nikki,” The Russian said. “Whoever he was, he’s clearly a loser with no taste, and you were too good for him.”
She gave her brother a grateful smile.
“Hear, hear,” her Dad agreed.
“Anyway, you’re too young at fourteen to have a serious boyfriend, Nikki,” her mother said.
“How old were you when you got your first boyfriend, Carla?” Nikki asked me, as she wiped her eyes.
“I’m the wrong one to ask,” I said. “Boys were scared to ask me out because my dad was the reverend; you know, he might send them to hell or something, so no one asked me out for years and years.”
Tia lightened the mood that she had previously darkened. “Want to play Twister after dinner, Carla?” she asked, putting the spotlight back on herself.
Oh yes I did, but a private game only with The Russian.
I shook my head. “I have to warn you Tia, I am very, very good at Twister because I am hugely tall. My legs stretch easily from the green dots to the pink dots and I can still reach the blue dot at the far end with my hand while stretched out.”
Tia took this in, biting her lip as she thought.
“Are you any good at Monopoly?” she asked.
“Carla has to go straight home after dinner unfortunately, because her handsome date has to be at training at six in the morning,” The Russian told his little sister. “But next time we come over, I’ll find out what she’s not good at and let you know,” he said with a wink in her direction. She clumsily returned his wink – so cute.
I was in a mixed state of euphoria ... there was going to be a next time, but probably not a bed session with The Russian that night ... man, my hand was going to drop off if I had to perform any more functions on myself while picturing Alex in the act. I wasn’t even at deep kiss stage with him yet – what would it take to get laid by The Russian, even an intimate kiss, for crying in a bucket?
*****
On the way back to The Russian’s place, where I had left my car, The Russian looked over at me and smiled.
“Well you were a hit,” he said. “Mom really likes you.”
“That’s kind of her,” I said, “I really liked your family, too. Thank you for taking me to meet them.”
“She’ll give me a hard time now about making sure I follow you up and do the right thing, and she’ll be giving me all the reasons I should be seeing you or someone like you ...” he said, thinking out loud.
I was a bit taken aback. So, was this a good thing or a bad thing? Did he want to be encouraged to see me or was that going to be a pain in the butt?
“You sound like someone your mother likes wouldn’t be someone you would want to date,” I said, after a few moments.
He glanced at me with a look of surprise as if he hadn’t meant to say all that out loud.
The Russian turned his eyes back to the road. “I just meant that ... um, she’s only met a couple of my female friends over the years and she never liked my ex-girlfriend.”
“Leesa?” I asked.
“Yeah. She didn’t like her from day one when Leesa and I met at school ... always said she was a spoilt troublemaker, and Mom was right, but still ... I just meant that she’s got a look at you and is probably breathing a huge sigh of relief.”
“Oh well, she may change her mind when she gets to know me better,” I said.
The Russian glanced over, gave me a frown and looked away again.
“Why would you say that? Are you hiding something?” he asked.
“No,” I laughed. “I was just kidding. What would I be hiding?” I think I had tread on very dangerous ground there, I could almost feel The Russian bristling beside me. I wished I had known something about The Russian to be a bit forewarned ... no one seemed to know him. Sasha could tell me how dry his sense of humor was and how all the office girls liked him, but she didn’t know a thing about The Russian in love other than he and Leesa had seemed so unsuited ... had he been hurt to the point of no return? Was he a terrible flirt? Did he treat women well? All I knew was what I had read about his ex-girlfriend and her high profile party life which hadn’t told me much except he had been part of it or had tolerated it.
I looked over at him as he seemed to be thinking about my comments and after a few minutes, he pulled himself out of whatever dark thoughts he was having. He looked at me and smiled.
“Sorry, I guess you could call me gun-shy. I’ve had years and years of relationship lies and games ... I’m not up for it anymore, I’m trained to be suspicious. If we, you know, get serious ... do you believe in monogamy?”
I turned to look at him front on. Did I give some indication that I slept around?
“Are you seriously asking me this?”
“Sorry,” he said. He ran a hand over his face. For a normally laid back guy, the Russian was sweating it.
“If you need to hear it, then yes, I am a one-man woman. Good grief, just because you sporting guys tart around and get offered plenty of skirt, don’t assume the sporting women sleep around as well.” Wow, how did this conversation go so off track?
We pulled into his street and he breathed out a sigh of frustration. I could almost hear his brain ticking, trying to work out how he had gotten himself into this situation and how to get himself out of it.
I was also a bit cranky by then; he’d ruined a good night with silly comments. I know he didn’t know me that well, but from my upbringing, from our talks, from my actions towards him, did he really think I was the flirty, sleep around type? That I was just hanging with him for a quick roll in the sack? And was it so bad that his mother liked me, or might give him a hard time to follow me up? How insulting.
“Carla ...” he started, after pulling his car past my parked car on the curb side, and into his driveway.
I cut him off. “Hey, thanks again for taking me to meet your family, and I hope your mother doesn’t give you too much of a hard time about having to like me,” I said, quoting him back. I opened the door and was out before he had his seatbelt off.
For a big guy who professes to be slow, he moved pretty quickly, intercepting me before I got to the back of his car. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to him.
“Hey, I’ve insulted you somewhere along the line there and I didn’t mean to ...” he said, looking down on me.
I shook my head. “It’s all good, really. Anyway, you’ve got training early, so thanks again.” I pulled away. “We’ll talk soon, yeah?”
Men! I’m not interested in being a prospect just because I’m different from Leesa; and do I look like I’m a charity case that is looking for a date? Well, I am, but I’m not desperate, I’ve got my stalkers.
He walked down the driveway following me, only a few inches behind me; he said my name again and was clearly uncomfortable with handling an emotional female. “Carla, stop, please.”
I turned around to face him.
“About training, I just said that so we could leave after dinner and not have to stay all night. I have got training early, but that doesn’t mean you have to rush off,” he said. “Come up for a while.”
I’ve always had too much pride, and now I was cutting off my own nose to spite my face. Since the day I had met The Russian, I’d been dreaming of getting closer to him, tasting those lips. Now, I just wanted to smack him – he really was an arrogant, insensitive ass.
“No, I’ve got an early start too. Another time, huh?” I said, throwing the comment over my shoulder as I continued my walk to my car. But as long as my strides were, The Russian’s were longer and he beat me there, opening my car door for me. I lowered myself into the front seat, started the engine and the sexy beast he was, lowered himself down to squat next to me in the open car doorway.
“Brooker, I’m a bit rusty at dating,” he said, “I’d been with my last girlfriend since school, and anyone since has just been ... well, short-lived by mutual agreement. You’ll have to cut me some slack,” he said, with the hint of a smile. He looked divine squatting there in front of me, his dark eyes scanning my face, his muscular arm resting on the steering wheel.
I cocked my head to the side and studied him. “I thought you were the expert on women, having been raised with four at home,” I said, tongue in cheek.
“Apparently I’ve still got a few things to learn,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I want to see you again,” he continued. “We’ve got a bye this weekend, will you come over Friday night and let me cook for you?”
“Can you cook?” I asked, lightening the moment.
“Can I cook!” he scoffed and then reached for his phone. “Can I get Josh’s number before you go?” he referred to my excellent cook of a housemate.
I laughed.
“I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
“There’s nothing to makeup, we’re all good,” I said. “Friday night.”
“Friday night,” he repeated, and gave me a smile. He rose and leaned in long enough to brush my lips with his and then he pulled away and closed the car door. He stood back as I drove off.
Served me right for being an idiot. Now I was going home alone, horny, desperately wanting The Russian and it was all my own fault for being so high and mighty! Just kill me now.