by Ally Adams
Chapter 10
I turned around in the mirror and looked at my outfit from all angles… I was going for the Stevie Nicks Bohemian style—I remember it from Mom’s record album covers: a fitted top billowing out from the hips into a full-flowing skirt in black velvet, a red and gold shawl, black platform boots and a black velvet bolero. I was going to go the French beret but it just wasn’t right. I loved that feminine look and no-one did it like Stevie. I guess I was ready but I felt sick with nerves, and my stomach was somersaulting.
Nik was due any minute—okay fine, he had won, but I really wanted to go out for a good meal, that’s it, no expectations or anything heavy. I hadn’t been to Lanterne French restaurant before, it was Nik’s pick. And then I heard the knock at the door. Breathe, I told myself, and move towards the door and answer it. Right I can do this.
I opened the door and my eyes grew huge; he was divine. He looked good enough to eat in a light wool blend, two-piece gray suit with a single breasted jacket and flat front trousers. He completed the look with a crisp white shirt, open at the neck, no tie and polished black leather lace-ups. Clearly the suit I was repairing for him wasn’t his only one. He smelled absolutely divine. He stepped in and before he could kiss me, I touched his jacket.
“Is that a Hugo Boss suit?” I asked, circling him and looking at the cut as he walked further into the room.
“Hi Sah-sha.” His lips curled into a smile.
“Oh, hi Nik.”
He laughed, leaned towards me and kissed me hello. Give up, really, resistance was futile, I was a goner. Crap.
“I think so.” He shrugged.
“What?” I said, losing all rational thought.
“I think it is a Hugo Boss,” he said. “I had to wear it for a photo shoot, for a sponsor. I really liked it so I just got my manager to buy it.”
Really, he thinks it’s a Boss? That suit cost more than I earned in three months. It was made for Nik, just perfect. Yep such is the life of a mega sports star, I think I’ll just get my manager to whip out and buy some of my favorite designer labels, sigh! Why wasn’t I good at sport? I wasn’t bad at gymnastics but I couldn’t earn a living from it.
He took my hand and twirled me under his arm in a smooth dance move, watching as my dress swirled.
“You look beautiful, Sah-sha,” he said, softly, “just beautiful, so feminine and graceful.”
I smiled. “It’s just something I had…” I never knew what to say to compliments like that. I’m hoping that covered it.
He rolled his eyes.
“Thank you,” I said, and he nodded with a smile.
“Shall we go?” he asked.
“Yes, see you soon Prada,” I told my pussycat and I grabbed my bag. This was the first time we were going to go in his car together, the first time we would walk into a restaurant together, the first official date. I locked up and we took the stairs to the street. He opened the car door for me and then came around and slid in beside me. There’s something super sexy about sitting next to man in charge, watching him drive, his hands on the wheel, his command of everything. I particularly loved a sports watch on a man… don’t know what that is about but it turns me on no end. I think I just orgasmed.
“Have you been to Lanterne before?” he asked.
“No. You?”
He shook his head. “Your pick next time, Sah-sha,” he said.
There was going to be a next time? That was optimistic. We had to through tonight first.
“I have a list of numbers should we need them tonight,” I said, “the doctor, physio, ambulance… and I can do the Heimlich maneuver.”
Nik put his head back and laughed, so fucking handsome.
“Any chance we’re the same blood types?” he asked. “I’m B-negative.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you would be something special. Luckily I’m an O-type and everyone can have O-type.”
“Well we’ll be right then,” Nik said. “How did The Russian go on radio today?”
I told him as we drove, eventually turning into the restaurant parking lot. He parked, leaped out and came around to open my door. He offered me his hand, helped me out of the car and took my hand as we walked along the boardwalk to the entrance. We didn’t get far before he was recognized and half a dozen fans asked for autographs and photos. I nodded for Nik to do it and he obliged them. He took my hand again and I saw the snap of flashes. It looked like we were going to be in the social pics.
A look of annoyance crossed his face. “I’m sorry,” he said shielding me and opening the restaurant door. We huddled in.
“It’s okay,” I said, and I gave him a small smile. I wasn’t big on my life being out there, that’s why I’m a journalist; I ask the questions not the other way around. But I didn’t want Nik to see that, I could feel edginess coming off him in waves.
The maître d’ greeted us at the door and apologized for the fuss outside. I don’t know how they knew Nik would be there. Maybe he should have booked under an alias.
The maître d’ showed us to a table in the corner. It had a view of the restaurant but could not be seen from the windows. Nik saw me into my seat then sat down opposite. I could see people in the restaurant checking us out and then I forgot them as his legs entwined around mine under the table. I took my hat off and ruffled up my hair a bit.
Nik took a deep breath.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I shouldn’t have booked in my name, sorry. I forget sometimes… it’s surreal… the publicity and…” His voice trailed off.
“Really, it’s no big deal,” I assured him.
Then he got to the crux of it. “I know you don’t like that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. We can make this work…”
I took his hand. “Nik, really, I’m not worried, it’s all good.” Wow, I must have given him the impression I’m a real flight risk.
He frowned as he read my face then nodded. We sat in silence as the waiter brought us water and two menus.
“Will you have champagne?” Nik asked me.
“In a French restaurant; of course,” I said. “You order please.”
Nik smiled and glanced at the wine list. He gave the waiter an order and I found it on my list. Holy fuck, I truly can’t afford to eat or drink here. Well I could, but I’d rather spend three hundred dollars on fabric than a meal for one. Nik must have read my expression because he lowered the menu and his voice.
“Sah-sha, I know you are independent and have your own career and life, but you must allow me to pay tonight, ja?” he said.
I frowned and opened my mouth to protest.
“No. I’ve invited you to dinner. You are my guest, I’m paying, I’m always paying even when you invite me to dinner,” he whispered. “And there is no obligation, no pay back, nothing. I just want your company.”
“As much as I’d like to live off you Nik and eat you broke, it hardly seems fair,” I said.
Nik grinned. “You have invested time making yourself look beautiful tonight, let me repay the favor. Are we in agreeance?”
I really struggled with this; I didn’t want to be bought and I didn’t want to take advantage of him even though I know the cost of this meal was a drop in the ocean for him.
“Please Sah-sha, it’s a simple request that would give me pleasure,” he said.
I nodded. “Thank you, Nik, I accept.”
He smiled as though he had won the lottery, funny guy.
“So…” I lifted my menu, “do you know what’s good?”
“Yes I do, and I think we should order very different dishes so we can share. Do you share?” he asked.
“Oh I share,” I said, and he smiled again. I wished I could have sex with him right now, get it out of my system and then I could concentrate on eating. I’d have a bigger appetite then. He shuffled in his seat. I wonder if Nik was thinking the same thing. What the heck, I’m direct, let’s put it out there. I closed my menu and leaned towards him.
�
��It’s very hard to concentrate on food when all I can think about is your naked body on top of mine,” I said.
Nik’s mouth fell open and he shut it abruptly and swallowed.
I continued, “I wish we could do it right now on this table, just fuck each other silly, then have a really nice glass of champagne afterwards and dine. I’m always hungry after sex,” I told him.
He made this growling sound in his throat and slowly shut the menu. He lowered his voice to match mine.
“Sah-sha, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that information?” He exhaled. “Now I’m as hard as a rock and all the blood has rushed to my dick.”
I grinned and opened my menu. “Just saying,” I told him.
With one finger, he pulled the menu down that I held in front of me. “You are wicked, Sah-sha, wicked.” He sat back looking much more uncomfortable in his chair. Lucky the tablecloths were really long because the toe of my boot gently found his erection under the table. I swear he jumped a foot.
The waiter appeared with the champagne, showed Nik the label and skillfully popped it open, and poured two glasses. Nik’s eyes returned to me, never leaving my face, his breathing slightly jagged. I smiled at him, thanked the waiter and raised a glass.
“To good health,” I said, offering my favorite toast.
Nik picked up his glass. “To beauty,” he said, and clinked it against mine.
The champagne was delicious: dry, cold and bubbly. Nik cleared his throat and returned to the menu looking most uncomfortable.
“So how do you know what is good if you haven’t been here?” I asked.
“I asked my manager. He did his research and told me.”
“Really, he gets paid for that?”
“He didn’t mind bringing his wife here a few times and trying it out. He calls it a bonus.” Nik shrugged. “So,” he glanced down the menu, “he suggests… oh fuck it, I can’t think now.”
I gave him a smile and he shook his head and smiled darkly at me. He threw the menu down. “I’m ruined,” he declared.
*****
Eventually we managed to order and it was good, so good. Nik’s phone pinged a few times during the meal, he apologized and put it on silent. I was so impressed. I wondered who it was… some chick?
After coffee, I went to the ladies and he paid while I was away. I love that too. Some paparazzi awaited us as we came out and again he rushed me to the car and saw me in, returning to his side.
“Why do they do that?” he asked, “who cares that we’re dining out?”
“People love gossip,” I said, with a shrug. “Just ask The Russian.”
“Yeah, he loves the inside scoop. He’s been pumping me since I got here,” Nik agreed.
“Thank you, for dinner, for tonight, it was wonderful,” I said sincerely to him.
“The pleasure is mine. Didn’t I tell you it would be great, Süsse?” Nik started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. As we drove, he reached across and held my hand; good thing it was an automatic car.
I felt such a heady rush; I wish it could always be like this. I know loved deepened and the relationship developed if it was meant to, but there was nothing like first date excitement.
“What are you up to tomorrow?” he asked.
“I’m doing gym in the morning, then Max and I are going to a fashion designer exhibition and I’m doing Saffron’s wedding dress tomorrow night. She’s coming around for another fitting,” I said. I didn’t want to move too fast or be on tap for Nik; there were plenty of girls on hand to do that.
“Any catwalk flips?” he teased, with a glance towards me.
“I’ll probably fit four or five in. And you?” I asked.
“No, and no handstands, but I’m training in the morning, then Lucas invited me around to watch the game, and I need to get some clothes soon, but I can’t face it,” he said. “Will you shop with me?”
“Hell yeah,” I said, way too enthusiastically, “but we can’t do it now until next spare weekend.”
“I can wait,” he said.
“Alice said you had only one suitcase of clothes with you when you moved in. Seriously, is that it?” I asked.
Nik nodded. “I’ll need to speak with Alice, she’s infiltrating my spy ring and giving away secrets.”
I laughed. This man was so gorgeous and I was going to shop with him!
“So you are too busy for me tomorrow,” he said, sadly.
“You can’t talk,” I ribbed him. “You’re spending the afternoon with Lucas.”
“I’d drop Lucas in a heartbeat Sah-sha, to spend time with you. Besides, last few times we’ve travelled, Lucas and I have had to share a room—we get plenty of bonding time,” he teased. “He spends a long time in the bathroom.”
“Mm, that’s good information to store,” I said.
“I didn’t tell you that,” Nik said.
I wished the drive home was longer. We were almost there. I can’t believe I was saying that—I’m such a yo-yo.
“What time will you get to the match on Sunday?” he asked.
“I help in the VIP membership area from about ten and then I head to the media box before eleven. The journos don’t get in too early. What about you?”
“Ah… eleven-thirty start, so I’ll be there after nine or so to get strapped and psyched. Are you going to the Shaken Not Stirred bar afterwards?” he asked. Nik was getting his weekend sorted.
“Nope, I never do.”
“Why?” he asked, glancing towards me. “I thought you’d be a party girl.”
I shook my head. “I don’t go where the players go. I leave that to the groupies and girlfriends. Some of my friends and I go to the Ska Bar.”
“I like ska music! But I don’t know that place,” he said. “I have to see you Sunday.”
“Then let’s lock it in,” I agreed, and he visibly relaxed. This man was going to be the end of me. What a way to go. He pulled into my apartment block.
“Would you like to come up?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said and turned off the ignition.
We were a very direct pair. He held my hand as we took the stairs, and my body was betraying me already; I was wired and wet. And then Nik blew it.
“Those phone numbers weren’t needed after all Sah-sha,” he said, “we lived to tell.”
He jinxed it. Sitting on my doorstep was Saffron. The wedding was off. Fuck on so many levels.
Chapter 11
Nik was so understanding—he brushed my cheek, kissed me and left me to take care of Saffron with her swollen face from crying. I watched his gorgeous butt descending the stairs, my vagina ached for him but my heart was breaking for Saffy—catastrophe! I unlocked and led my twin sister to the sofa and went to make us both a cup of tea. I knew all about relationship pain, but I also knew not to run down her fiancé, Daniel; he was a really nice guy and this might be fixable.
Minutes later, I put her cup of tea in front of her and sat next to Saffy on my white sofa. Prada bolted, the scaredy cat; he wasn’t good with crying women.
“Saffy, take a deep breath, a mouthful of tea, and if you feel up to it, tell me what happened,” I said “If not, I can put you straight to bed. The guest room is made up.”
She nodded and followed instructions. Wow, I was on a roll lately… I must try it on The Russian, and see if he obeys.
Saffy took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and took a sip of tea. I hated seeing my twin so distraught especially when Saffron was such a sweet, up-person. The only times I remember her crying were when our family dog Muffy died—we all cried then—and when our brothers had a food fight with our birthday cake. Daniel was really her first big love. I was hoping she’d cruise through life unhurt.
“Sassy, Dan said he’s not sure he’s ready to be married,” she said, choking on the words.
Oh not good, so not good.
“Okay, let’s break this down,” I said to her. “He still wants to be with you?”
She nodded. “He
said he does, but he wants to do more things before settling down. He’s got cold feet.”
“What things did he say, exactly?” I asked.
“He said we should delay the wedding and do some travel, work overseas, maybe see more of our friends—and we both know what that means, he wants to meet other women. He’s not sure.” She started crying again, heart-wrenching sobs, each one like a cut in my chest.
“Saffy, we don’t know that, stop, listen,” I said. “Remember when you graduated from teachers’ college and you wanted to go abroad for a year?”
She nodded, picking up her tea and cupping it in her hands.
“Remember Daniel didn’t want to go? He wanted to get a few years’ work experience under his belt first and then do a working holiday. You were worried being married to him might be like wearing ‘cement boots’—your words. You were worried that he might tie you down. Remember?” I challenged her.
“Yes.” She stopped crying long enough to look at me and take my words in.
“You had plans to do big things then, but you adapted and let him get his work experience under the belt. You both forgot that dream of traveling and went straight to the marriage step. What if… and I’m just guessing here, what if you bring the travel and working overseas dream back again—it was your idea first, not Daniel’s. Delay the wedding until you’ve had some more adventure. Hell, if you’re going to be together for life, what’s a few years?” I said.
She stopped crying while she thought. “I had forgotten about that.”
“But Saffy, I’m no expert at this, remember I had an impulse marriage that didn’t work,” I said. “I’m just saying it’s not a big deal that he wants to delay the wedding, he still wants you, right?”
“Yes, he said that over and over.”
“You’ve compromised for him before, but now he’s kind of reminding you of your original dream,” I said.
“Why can’t we get married and then travel, like on our honeymoon?” she asked.
“Maybe he wants to use a bit of the wedding money to travel before you blow it all on the big day and then have to start paying off a mortgage,” I suggested. “So, do it in reverse, let him propose in every romantic spot you visit, or you do the same. Have the honeymoon first and the wedding later… just a thought. Maybe he’s looking at our parents or his folks and thinking marriage means settling down and being sensible, when all he wants is to be with you and have fun.” That was good, I surprised myself.