Elena thanked Gretchen for her time. She didn’t get any real answers, but she got enough for her brain to start turning.
She’d just gotten back into her car when her phone rang. Assuming it was Vlad, she answered immediately.
“Elena, it’s Yev.”
Her free hand white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Yev. Hello.”
He chuckled. “You sound nervous.”
“Yes, to be honest.” At least that wasn’t a lie.
“Well, no need. I’m very pleased to be making this call.”
“Oh . . .” She sounded breathless, like a little girl.
“Is everything okay? Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Yep. Totally bad time. Because her entire life and what she thought she knew and wanted had changed in the past week. “Of course not,” she breathed. “This is perfect.”
“Good,” Yev said. “Because I would like to officially offer you a job.”
A sensation she hadn’t been prepared for greeted his words. Disappointment. “Thank you. That is . . . wow.”
“We understand that it is a big move from America, so we don’t expect you immediately. But do you think you can start in a month?”
A sour taste stung the back of her tongue. “A month?”
“If you need more time, we can make that work.”
“Um, no, that’s not it.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
Elena winced but then reminded herself this was a man she’d known all her life. “Yev, I am so grateful for the job offer, but I actually think I will have to decline.”
There was a pause and then a creak of his chair. “Well, this is unexpected. May I ask why?”
“I might not be quite ready to leave America yet.” He made a noncommittal noise, so she rushed forward. “I will always be so grateful that you were willing to take a chance on me.”
“Well, it was the least I could do for your father. But can I be honest? I’m kind of relieved.”
She laughed. “You are?”
“Now I don’t have to worry about you.” Another creak of his chair, and she pictured him standing. “What are your plans, then?”
“I don’t know yet. I haven’t made any plans. I met with an immigration attorney, though, and she at least gave me some things to think about.”
“Good for you.”
“Yev, thank you so much for understanding.”
“Of course. You’re like family, Elena. You know that.”
“I do. And it means a lot.”
“You’ll let me know if you need anything else?”
Elena held her breath. “There actually is one thing.”
“Name it.”
“I sort of lied to you before.”
He paused. Then, “I’m listening.”
“When you asked if I was looking into my father’s disappearance—”
“Oh shit, Elena. What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been trying to finish his story. I’ve been doing my own investigation, as much as I could from here.”
Silence, then, “And did you find anything interesting?”
“A lot of false leads and dead ends.”
“Well, that’s not surprising.”
“There’s one thing I wonder if maybe you’ll look into for me.”
His sigh could have powered a steamboat. “Elena, you know how dangerous this is.”
“I know. And I’m sorry if I’m putting you on the spot.”
“What is it you want me to look at?”
“Nikolei 1122.”
Silence again. Then, “Where did you hear that?”
Her heart hammered at his tone. “Does it mean something?”
“Not immediately, no. But it could be part of a classification for a police report. The name of the officer and the date, but it could mean anything. Where did you hear that?”
“I have a source inside one of Strazh’s clubs.”
He let out a string of curse words that had her pulling the phone away from her ear. “Yevgeny—”
“This is madness, Elena. Please tell me you’re lying.”
“I need to know what happened to him. Don’t you want to know?”
He swore under his breath. “Does Vlad know what you’re working on?”
Cold seeped down her spine. “Not yet.”
Seconds ticked by when all she could hear were the sounds of the newsroom in the background and his angry breathing into the phone. “Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thank you—”
“But if I can’t find anything, you have to promise me that you’ll drop this and move on with your life.”
“I promise,” she breathed.
Yevgeny hung up without saying goodbye. Elena tossed her phone onto the passenger seat and rested her forehead against the steering wheel. She waited for the panic to set in. She’d just turned down the job she’d always wanted. A job that would have given her everything she thought she needed, everything she’d been working toward. A chance to honor her father’s legacy. Access to the information and people who could help her figure out what really happened to him. A chance to save women like Marta.
But she didn’t have to go back to Russia to do those things. She had options she’d never considered before because she’d never let herself consider them before. She’d never allowed herself to believe that she could have any kind of future in America because she’d never believed she could have any kind of future with Vlad.
She eased the car back onto the road and pointed it toward home. When the phone rang again, she knew this time it was Vlad.
“Hey,” he said when she answered.
She considered telling him immediately about her call with Yevgeny but decided to wait. There was too much to tell him. And she would tell him. Just not yet. “How’d it go today?”
“Good. My coach came to see me.”
“Finally.”
“He, um . . .” Vlad cleared his throat. “Would you be willing to go to the game with me tonight?”
“Like a real hockey wife?”
“Like my wife.”
She bit her lip to stave off emotion. “I would love that,” she finally answered.
He let out a relieved breath, as if he had actually thought she’d say no. “What time will you be home?” he asked.
“In about a half hour.”
“Good. Meet me in our bed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The team sent a car for them just before seven that night so they wouldn’t have to navigate the downtown traffic.
“I’m nervous,” Elena said.
Vlad slung his arm around her in the back seat and kissed her hair. She smelled like orange blossoms and looked amazing in her too-big hockey jersey with his name across the back. “It will be fun.”
“What if people ask me questions about where I’ve been or—”
“They won’t. And if for some reason they do, I’ll be there to deal with them.”
Vlad was nervous, too, but for a different reason. It had already been released to the media that he was planning to attend the game, and the team’s media staff wanted him to do a live on-air interview after the first period. All of which meant there was zero chance that an image of him with Elena wouldn’t find its way into Russian media. But he still hadn’t told his parents that Elena was even here with him, much less that they were together.
Vlad dug his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “We need to make a phone call.”
She looked up at him. “Who?” She immediately made an o with her mouth.
“I don’t want them to find out from a picture in the press.”
“I don’t either.”
Vlad hit the button for his mother’s contac
t. It would be almost six in the morning in Omsk, so she’d be awake by now. He held his breath as he waited for her to answer.
“You do remember my phone number,” she said in lieu of hello.
He cut her off before she could lecture him again or, God forbid, get his father involved. “Mama, before you get going, there’s someone I want you to talk to.”
Elena gave him an are you kidding? look as he handed her the phone. But she took it and pressed it to her ear. “Hi, Mama.”
Vlad could hear his mother’s voice. “Elena?!”
Vlad pressed a fist to his mouth to smother a laugh, and Elena pounded her fist into his chest.
“Yes, I’m here,” Elena said before pausing. “Well, right now we’re on our way to the game.” Another pause. “Since the day after the surgery.” Elena winced and handed the phone back to him. “She wants to talk to you.”
“Vladislav Konnikov, you have so much explaining to do. You lied to me. How long has she been there? When is she leaving? Have you even tried to talk to her?”
“Mama, slow down.”
“No, I will not slow down. What is going on?”
“I swear I will explain more later. I just wanted to call so you weren’t caught off guard if you see a picture of us together tonight at the game.”
“What do you mean together?” His mother’s voice held the upward lilt of hope.
Vlad met Elena’s gaze as he spoke. “I—I took your advice, Mama.”
“What do you mean?” she asked again, this time breathlessly.
Vlad traced Elena’s lower lip with his thumb. “I think maybe I’ll keep some of those details between Elena and me.”
She laughed in a weepy way. “Of course. Of course. Oh, I can’t wait to tell your father. But what does this mean? Is she staying in Nashville?”
Vlad held Elena’s gaze. They hadn’t talked about their plans, and he didn’t want to answer for her.
Vlad gripped Elena’s chin between his thumb and finger and tugged her mouth upward. It turned out that keeping a kiss silent made it all the more potent. It took every bit of willpower he possessed to pull back from her and remember he had his mother on the phone. “I promise I’ll tell you more later, but we’re almost to the arena now.”
“I’m so happy, Vlad. So happy.”
“So am I, Mama.”
He ended the call. “I have something for you,” he murmured against Elena’s lips.
She leaned back and gave him a coy smile. “In the car?”
He barked out a laugh and set her back from him. Then he lifted a hip so he could dig into his front pocket. When he pulled out their rings, a small gasp escaped her lips.
“I thought maybe—” He gulped, nervous again. “Since we’re going to be in public, I thought maybe we could wear them so people won’t ask too many questions.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her fingers trembled as she held out her hand and he slid her ring back on. After she repeated the gesture with his, he hauled her onto his lap. He leaned in to kiss her, but she held back. “I heard what Mama asked. If I’m staying in Nashville.”
He held his breath.
“Yevgeny offered me the job today. I turned him down.” Elena lowered her head to his shoulder. “I have never felt at home anywhere. Not in a long time anyway. Even before my father disappeared, I felt alone. Never safe. Never settled. The only time I feel at home, have ever felt at home, is with you.”
Vlad cupped the back of her head and tilted her face toward his. “What are you saying?”
“I want a real marriage too.”
The moment called for passion, but the thick swell of emotion in his throat rendered him useless. He pressed his forehead to hers and sucked in a shaky breath. They stayed that way, silently holding each other, until the car slowed and pulled into the traffic around the arena.
The arena was just one block away from the main strip of honky-tonks and music venues that Nashville was famous for, and the driver had to stop several times to let a wall of people and partiers cross the road before advancing toward the same barricade that Colton had driven up to this morning. With a flash of credentials, the police officer let the car through. Elena plastered her face to the window. “There are so many people,” she breathed.
And for the first time in his career, Vlad was one of them. Just another spectator relegated to the stands while his team played without him. It stung, but not as badly as it did before. He was healing on pace, and he had Elena, finally, by his side.
The driver dropped them off by the players’ entrance. One of the trainers was waiting to meet them with a medical cart to drive them to the service elevator and up to the top floor where the suites were located. That way he wouldn’t have to crutch the entire length of the arena.
“Are you going to go see your teammates first?” Elena asked.
“They’re warming up already,” Vlad answered, waiting for her to get into the golf cart first. “And it’s bad luck. I don’t want to mess with their concentration.”
“You mess with my concentration, and it doesn’t end up badly.”
He winked at her.
The team owner was already in the suite with members of his family when they walked in. Miles Rudolph waved and walked over to greet them.
“Vlad, so good to see you upright.” Rudolph patted him on the shoulder.
“Thank you for letting us use the suite tonight.” Vlad moved his crutches aside so he could settle his hand on Elena’s back. “This is my wife, Elena.”
Rudolph shook her hand. “Finally, I meet the mysterious Elena.” He backed up and waved for them to come in. “Please, come in. Get settled. If you need anything at all, let one of the waiters know.”
Elena’s eyes widened as they walked into the luxurious suite. A full bar was along the right wall, where a bartender filled drinks for the dozen or so guests who were already there. A mouthwatering buffet was set up along the opposite wall, but Vlad had eaten before they left the house because he could never guarantee at events like this that even food labeled gluten-free hadn’t been cross-contaminated.
Vlad bent toward Elena’s ear. “You want something to drink?”
“I can get it,” she said. “You should sit.”
“I sit all day.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him, and that fiery little expression got him hot and bothered again. God, this was going to be a long night.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Just water. Thanks.” He dropped a kiss on her lips, drawing a surprised look from more than one person in the room. He understood now why she worried about people asking questions. This was the first time most people had ever seen her, and they were not shy about hiding their curiosity.
Vlad crutched slowly toward the set of VIP seats just beyond the glass wall overlooking the ice. He balanced his crutches along the railing. Below, his team skated and warmed up without him. Loud music pulsated from the speakers, and the jumbotron that hung from the ceiling played videos and commercials to distract fans before the game. He’d dreamed his entire life of being here. The Stanley Cup. Thousands of fans screaming and cheering. And he wasn’t down there.
“Hey.” Elena jolted him out of his brief pity party. She carried a glass of wine for herself and a bottle of water for him. He twisted off the top and downed half the bottle in a long gulp.
“People are looking at you,” she said.
He followed her gaze to the stands below, and yes, several fans were turned around in their seats with excited grins. Vlad lifted his hand in a polite wave, and the fans acted as if they’d just been blessed by the ghost of Gordie Howe.
“You should sign autographs for the kids,” Elena said.
“I didn’t bring a Sharpie.”
“I’m on it,” Elena said. She set her wine in the cup holder of one of the seats b
efore jogging back up the steps. A moment later, she returned with a marker and a member of the team’s PR staff. She started giving orders, and the staffer had no choice but to obey. “Let’s invite some of the families with young children to come up here to meet Vlad.” She pointed at one family with four children who’d been staring since the minute Vlad appeared. “Just one family at a time.”
The staffer nodded and opened the gate that separated the VIP seating from the rest of the stands. They watched as the young man quietly tapped the father on the shoulder, spoke and pointed behind them, and then as the family all gasped at the same time.
A moment later, they all jogged up the stairs to the railing. “Oh my gosh, this is so exciting,” said the woman whom he assumed was the mother.
“Would your kids like an autograph?” Elena asked.
After signing his name to two souvenir pucks, a T-shirt, and a game program, he offered to take a picture with the family. Elena stepped away to get out of the photo, but Vlad tugged her back in.
And that’s how it went for the next twenty minutes. The PR guy brought up families with children for signatures and selfies, and it was exactly the distraction Vlad needed from the fact that he wasn’t down on the ice with his team. Somehow, Elena had known what he needed. Just like she’d known his favorite meals would heal his soul and that he had needed a hug when the guys suggested a party to watch the game.
Elena looped her arm through his and leaned into him. “You okay?”
“I wouldn’t be without you.”
“There you go again. So romantic.”
“Elena?”
She looked up at him. “Hmm?”
“I need to tell you something.”
Her lips parted. “What is it?”
“I love you.”
She sucked in her bottom lip as her eyes shone with a wet sheen. Around them, the noise of the crowd and the music faded. It was just them, suspended in a collision of past and present.
After a torturously long moment, Elena raised her hand to cup his jaw. “I love you too.”
Vlad wiped away the tear that dipped down her cheek, and then he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her lightly, lingering just long enough to let her know he meant it and couldn’t wait to start the rest of their lives.
Isn't It Bromantic? Page 25