Anton

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Anton Page 4

by Brenda Rothert


  “Don’t worry about it.”

  I rub my hands together, wishing, I’d brought gloves. “You don’t need to be on your guard around me. I won’t tell Adam anything. I don’t even like the bastard.”

  “That makes two of us.” She looks away.

  “Are you guys divorced?”

  I silently pray she’ll say yes, but she shakes her head. “I left eight months ago, but he won’t give me a divorce.”

  “Fuck that, why’s it up to him?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Try me.”

  She pulls off the bright blue stocking cap, unwraps an elastic band from her bun and lets her hair fall loose around her shoulders. Again, my cock hardens at the sight of her. She’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. She has the exotic look of Rihanna, but there’s also something soft and sexy that’s all her own.

  “Keeps we warm while I walk,” she explains.

  “You don’t have to worry about that because I’m driving you.”

  “Anton—”

  “Mia.”

  “Look, the less you know about me and Adam, the better. You guys are teammates and you have to be on his side.”

  “No, I don’t.” I shove my hands in the pockets of my coat. “I can’t stand that asshole. I’d release him right now if I had the power. And I know he wasn’t good to you, so as of now, I’m on your side.”

  Her eyes widen in alarm. “How do you know that?”

  Before I can answer, she relaxes, seeming to come up with the answer herself. “Oh, the cheating, you mean?”

  I nod, wishing I could kick Adam in the face.

  “Yeah, if only it was just that,” she says softly.

  Now I want to do more than kick him in the face. “What else did he do to you?”

  She shakes her head and looks at the ground. “Your concern is really nice, Anton, but—”

  “You’ve got it covered?” I offer. “Don’t need any help from me?”

  “Exactly. But th—”

  “I’m not buying it,” I cut in. “If you had even one good friend in your life right now, you wouldn’t be walking home through a shitty part of town at 3:00 a.m. in the freezing cold. How far is it?”

  She sighs softly. “About three miles.”

  I cringe. “And if you had the money, you wouldn’t be walking, either.”

  Mia bristles. “I grew up on the Southside, Anton. I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, I know it. But I’m not getting in my car and driving home when this whole situation is complete bullshit. Adam froze you out on the money because you left him, didn’t he?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Fuck that. I’m parked around the corner. Let’s go warm up in my car and I’ll drive you home.”

  She hesitates. “You promise this stays between us?”

  “I do.” I take off my wool coat and wrap it around her, because her coat is a thin piece of shit. “The only way you’re able to trust a person is by trusting them. I keep my word, so give me a shot, okay?”

  She exhales a breath into the cold winter Chicago air, and then falls into step beside me as I walk to my car.

  When I unlock the passenger door to my Range Rover and open it, she gives me a skeptical look. “Just a ride. I’m not fucking you.”

  “Jesus, what kind of guys have you been hanging out with?”

  She steps up into the car and I close the door. I wonder as I walk around the car to get in if she’s seeing anyone. I really hope not. Not that she necessarily wants to date me, either, but…fuck, I’d do anything for a chance.

  I can hear Alexei’s voice in my head reminding me that she’s not just married, but married to one of my teammates.

  I start the engine and turn on the heat and the seat warmers.

  “I haven’t been in a car for a while,” Mia says.

  “Do you walk everywhere?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t go many places. I walk to work and the grocery store, my classes are online this semester, and I take the train to see my grandpa.”

  “Where’s he live?”

  “In a nursing home.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Is he there long-term?”

  “Yeah. He has Alzheimer’s.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry.”

  She shrugs. “He’s in a good place. I get to see him twice a week.”

  “So you left Adam and he wouldn’t let you take anything, and you tend bar to make ends meet?”

  Mia nods. “But I’m not complaining. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

  “Do you want to divorce him?”

  She scoffs. “More than anything.”

  I’m letting out a battle cry on the inside, but I don’t let my happiness show.

  “So why don’t you?”

  Her shoulders slump. “I’ve already said more than I should’ve.”

  “He’s trying to fuck you over.”

  Mia smiles sadly. “Pretty much.”

  “So get a good attorney and take that fucker to the cleaners.”

  “Bartenders don’t make good attorney money.”

  “I’ll give you the money.”

  Mia leans farther back against the car seat. “You don’t even know me, Anton.”

  “I know enough. Besides, Adam deserves a solid ass fucking.”

  She laughs at that.

  “Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “Sometimes I open my mouth and the hockey player in me comes out.”

  “I get it. And thank you for the offer, really. But I’m okay. I’m finally away from him. I’m just going to keep doing my thing and hope that at some point, he wants to marry one of the women he fucks.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair.” After a pause, she says, “Can you take me home? My roommate’s son will be waking me up at seven this morning.”

  I put the car in drive and pull out from my parking place. I’m not sure how to feel about what Mia’s told me tonight. I’m so fucking pissed at Adam I’m not sure how I’ll keep from beating his ass when I see him next. And I’m frustrated for Mia.

  But I’m no longer turned on. Mia may be in a bad marriage, but it’s still a marriage. I’d never put the moves on a married woman. And I can tell that’s the last thing on her mind right now, anyway.

  “Anytime you need a friend, call me,” I tell her as I take the nearly deserted route she’s navigating to her place. “You can put my number in your phone if you want.”

  “That’s nice, but—”

  “I know, you’d rather be walking right now, but some asshole’s driving you home in his warm car. Fuck friends, right?”

  With a light laugh, Mia takes her phone out. “Okay, what’s your number?”

  I give it to her, warming as she inputs it.

  “Will you text me so I have yours?” I ask her.

  “Sure. But if Adam finds out about this, he’ll sucker punch you.”

  I laugh. “That motherfucker wouldn’t know a fair fight if it came up and grabbed his nut sac.”

  “It’s true.”

  I turn to her with a serious look. “Has he ever hit you?”

  Mia looks at her lap. “He’s too smart for that. Hitting leaves bruises.”

  “Has he ever hurt you? In any way?”

  “Nothing physical,” she assures me.

  The pain in her voice makes me want to weep and fuck Adam up at the same time. How could any man do anything but revere this woman?

  “I’ll fight Adam any day of the week,” I tell Mia as I pull up in front of her building. “Just because I don’t fight a lot on the ice doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”

  “Thanks for the ride.” Mia unbuckles her seat belt and I do the same, getting out of the car to see her to the door of her building.

  “Call if you need anything,” I remind her.

  “Thanks, Anton.” She hikes her canvas bag onto her shoulder as she unlocks the front door to the building, walks in and then locks it behind h
er.

  I look up at the crumbling three-story building. It’s dumpy. We lived in a worse place in Leningrad, but we didn’t know back then that anything better existed.

  Since the day I saw her, I’ve been dreaming about Mia Marceau. Even if I can’t have her the way I want, hopefully I can be her friend. That’s what she needs. And being needed by her is more than I ever thought I’d have.

  Chapter Seven

  Mia

  * * *

  I spot Anton immediately when he comes into Lucky Seven a few nights later. It’s almost as though I sense him, goosebumps erupting all over when I confirm he’s here.

  An internal conflict starts. My first reaction is that I’m happy to see him. He was right the other night—I don’t have a single good friend in my life right now. I have Janice and my co-workers, who I don’t even know outside of work, and Anita, who accuses me of stealing her food and messing with the thermostat.

  But I’m also painfully aware that Anton is one of the worst people for me to become friends with. Adam and I have found a semi-peaceful coexistence. I get to live apart from him as long as I give him what he wants when my grandpa’s quarterly nursing home bill is due.

  I cried as I gave him a blow job last week. And damned if that bastard didn’t get a little harder in my mouth when he saw it. He enjoys humiliating me.

  I’ve done it twice now since we separated, both times when my grandpa’s bill was overdue. And while I’m not sorry I did it, I am ashamed. My grandpa worked hard his whole life, but he and my grandma never had much to spare. If Adam didn’t pay for Goodman House, I wouldn’t be able to afford my grandpa’s care anywhere else. I can’t take care of him at home because, well, I don’t even have a home. And if I did, I’d have to leave him for work.

  Grandpa sold his house to pay for grandma’s care when she was sick, and for her burial. It bankrupted him in every way. And I vowed then that I’d do whatever it took to make sure he’s well cared for forever.

  Some people at a high-top table recognize Anton, and he stops to talk to them and take pictures. I sneak glances at them as I dry glasses with a worn white towel.

  He has an easy smile. He looks people in the eye when they’re talking, never looking bored and always giving them time to finish before he speaks. When a guy’s phone dies just as he is about to take a selfie with Anton, Anton waits for him to borrow a friend’s phone and they pose again.

  By the time he finds a stool at the crowded bar, I’ve got a glass of ice water with lemon waiting. He smiles as I set it in front of him.

  “Thanks.”

  “Good game last night.”

  He arches his brows, looking impressed. “You watched?”

  “Caught the highlights.” I shrug.

  When I met Adam at a coffee shop near the campus of the college I was commuting to, I didn’t know anything about hockey. I learned by watching, and from wives of other players, and I came to love the game. This season, I’ve paid attention to games other teams are playing when they’re on at the bar, but I can’t bring myself to watch a Blaze game. Seeing Adam makes my stomach roll nervously.

  A man I’ve already served eight beers to pushes his way up to the front of the bar.

  “Another one, sweetie, and I’ll give you an extra tip if you shake ‘em.” He cackles and reaches for his wallet.

  Anton bristles and turns toward him, about to say something when I beat him to it.

  “I’ve got a tip for you,” I say. “Quit being an asshole.”

  He laughs again. “Feisty, I like it.”

  “Go sleep it off, dickhead,” Anton tells him with a glare.

  He raises his hands innocently, takes his bottle of beer and lays a bill on the counter.

  “Do you get that shit all the time?” Anton asks me.

  “All the time. Goes with the job.”

  He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t be leaving here alone when you’re off.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “If a bunch of guys jump you in a dark alley, it could turn bad, Mia.”

  I can’t help smiling at his concern. “I stay away from dark alleys. Don’t worry about me.”

  “Can I give you a ride home later?”

  A customer gestures to me and I hold up my finger, telling him to wait one second.

  “I’m not off ‘til two again,” I tell Anton, looking over at the clock that reads 9:45 p.m.

  “No problem. I’ll be waiting.”

  I notice him get up and leave after he finishes his water, setting a twenty on the bar. I think about him as I eat my peanut butter sandwich on my break, though I’m supposed to be studying.

  Why is he being so nice to me? Does he want something more than this?

  I can’t give him more. Even though Adam and I will never live together or be a regular couple again, technically, we’re still married. I’m not a cheater. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be stuck in this limbo forever—married, desperate to escape, but unable to.

  I’m not the Mia my grandparents raised anymore. She was fierce. Strong. She once saw a boy being bullied because he was gay and took on both boys who were beating him up, coming home with two black eyes, a fat lip and a huge smile.

  Now I’m pretty much alone and barely getting by. I’m chronically exhausted and afraid that Adam will track me down at Anita’s and get me kicked out. Then where would I go?

  I can almost hear my grandma saying, “But what do you have, Mia?” She’d always ask me that when I was complaining about not having a date to a dance or not making a sports team.

  I have food and a roof over my head, and I have school, which gives me hope of making a better life for myself someday. I have peace, now that I’m not being called a worthless whore by the one person who was supposed to love me most.

  Work is steady after my break, and I end the night with enough cash to buy my grandpa something for Christmas and get the new shoes I desperately need for walking to work. When I lock the doors after the last customer leaves, I don’t see Anton standing outside.

  Maybe he’s not coming. I think about it as I wipe down the dark wood bar and wash up the last glasses of the night. That would be for the best. While my new, almost people-free, life is lonely at times, it’s also simple. Predictable. Stable.

  The key to un-fucking your life—get rid of the people. I smile about that as I leave Lucky Seven, locking the door behind me. Janice is still inside closing down the business end, but I learned the hard way that if I say goodnight to her, she just glares at me like I made her lose count of the cash she’s tallying, and then dramatically starts over.

  A dark Range Rover pulls up to the curb, and I instinctively take a few steps away.

  “Hey, it’s me,” Anton says. “Got your seat warmed up and waiting.”

  I smile in spite of myself. People may be complicated, but heated leather seats in downtown Chicago during late November are not. And it’s kind of nice to have an attractive man offer me a ride while knowing he’s not expecting sex.

  Anton does know that, right?

  “You look deep in thought,” he says as I fasten my seat belt.

  “Oh…it’s nothing.” I clear my throat. “I mean, I was just thinking it’s nice of you to do this when you aren’t getting anything in return.”

  He laughs, and it’s a deep, sexy sound. There are lines at the corners of his eyes when he turns to glance at me.

  “That’s your nice of way of telling me you’re not fucking me?”

  I nod and grin sheepishly.

  “I don’t expect anything in return for doing something for a friend,” he says.

  “Are we friends, then?”

  “I hope so.”

  I swallow hard, working up the courage to ask him something that’s been on my mind.

  “Look, I know this may sound crazy, but I need to put it out there. Did Adam put you up to any of this?”

  Anton lowers his brows and turns to me. “Up to what? Giving you a ride home?”<
br />
  “No…into being nice to me. Making me trust you. Maybe trying to get me in bed.”

  I know the answer from the flash of hurt in his blue eyes. Still, he confirms it as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

  “Hell no. Like I said, I can’t stand Adam. He’s an arrogant prick. He’s also a sloppy player. And he…” He shakes his head. “Nevermind.”

  “I know about the cheating; it’s okay to say whatever it is. Honestly, Adam’s beyond disappointing me.”

  He taps a thumb on the wheel as he considers what I said. “Yeah, I just don’t fucking get it. Especially when he had you at home.”

  I laugh softly. “Well, that’s nice of you to say.”

  The turn he takes isn’t the most direct route to my place, but I don’t mind.

  “It’s true,” he continues. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I’ve wondered how Adam ended up with you since the first time I saw you.”

  “When was that? Must’ve been right after we moved here.”

  “Yeah, at the welcome reception for him. You had on this green dress and…yeah, let’s just say I noticed you.”

  I look over and see that he’s avoiding eye contact with me. While I find his confession cute, it also reinforces what I already suspected—Anton’s friendship with me is based on attraction.

  “Look, what you see when you look at me is nothing but wrapping paper,” I say. “It’s how I look. Nothing more. It’s not who I am.”

  He cringes. “I wasn’t trying to…I probably said that wrong. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

  “It’s okay. I haven’t gotten a non-creepy compliment in a long time. It’s just a sensitive area for me.”

  “Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Men have never cared what was inside the package, I guess. Adam didn’t. It was all about how I looked. I gained twelve pounds once and he flipped his shit. Told me that wasn’t what he signed up for.”

  “Jesus, what a dick.”

  “Yeah.”

  Anton finds a parking place not far from Anita’s building and eases his car into it.

  “Well, I have a confession to make,” he says as he double checks his parking job in the rearview mirror.

  “Here it comes.” I roll my eyes playfully. “There’s a body in the back of the car right now, isn’t there?”

 

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