Chapter 7
Kaiser pulled open the heavy, decorative wooden door of the steakhouse and stood aside as Cristie stepped in ahead of him.
He followed her in and came to a stop beside her, the right side of his body grazing her left side as he placed his hand to the far right side of the small of her back effectively achieving two things — establishing himself as protector over her, and at the same time broadcasting his exclusive rights to be at her side.
One was authentic, the other was simply a move to ensure that any males, or even females, in the restaurant that happened to be tempted to approach either of them would view them as a couple and stay away.
“Good evening! Welcome to Succulent. Do you have a reservation?” the hostess asked.
“No, we don’t. What is the wait time?” Kaiser asked, his deep voice resonating naturally as he spoke.
“It’s about forty-five minutes,” she replied, trying to look up at him, but obviously being flustered by his presence. A lot of human women were, and this one was young so it made it worse.
Kaiser looked down at Cristie. “Do you want to wait?”
“Do you mind?” Cristie asked.
“Not at all. We’ll be over at the bar, let us know when it’s our turn?” Kaiser asked.
“Of course,” the hostess said. “Name?” she asked.
“Lyakhov. Kaiser Lyakhov,” he said, then took Cristie by the hand to lead her through the small crowd to the bar to wait for their table.
The hostess wrote his name and ‘party of 2’ in her book, then watched with envy as the tall, beautiful man led an even more beautiful woman through the crowd.
Her manager was suddenly right behind her, looking over her shoulder. “Is that who I think it is?” he demanded in hushed, but urgent whispers.
“Who?” she asked, moving aside slightly and looking over her shoulder at him.
“What is that man’s name?” he asked, sliding his finger down the page as he quickly looked at the names waiting for a table.
“What man?” she asked.
“The one that just walked away from your station,” he snapped. “It is! It’s Kaiser Lyakhov!” he hissed. “I can’t believe you didn’t seat him right away.”
“We don’t have any tables!” she said. “Besides, who is he?”
“We always have two tables near the back for VIPs. Even if one is occupied, the other rarely is. Seat him now.”
“Okay, but who is he? How am I supposed to know who he is?” she asked defensively.
“Google him,” he snapped as he grabbed two menus and left her standing at the hostess station. “I’ll seat him myself.”
Kaiser watched as the manager came toward them through the crowd, pretending he hadn’t heard the interaction between the manager and hostess. He had placed Cristie between himself and the bar and when he saw the manager coming, he turned his back to the man.
“Mr. Lyakhov?” the manager asked from right behind them.
Kaiser turned his head just enough to look over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“We have your table ready, sir.”
Kaiser turned toward the manager and simply looked at him questioningly.
“Our hostess didn’t realize you have a standing reservation, sir.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. Please, if you and your date will follow me, I’ll get you seated right away.”
Kaiser looked back at Cristie who raised her brows at him in an ‘Oh, my’ kind of way.
Kaiser suppressed a grin as he curved a hand around her hip and gently guided her before him to follow the manager. “Thank you,” he said to the manager.
“No thanks needed,” the manager said as he proudly led major league baseball’s most valuable player through the people gathering closer and closer to Kaiser and Cristie as they realized shortly before the manager did who they were, and quickly got them seated.
As Kaiser held the chair for Cristie to sit down, then took his own seat, the manager apologized again.
“Again, my apologies. Our hostess is young and didn’t realize who you are.
We always try to sit our better known patrons as soon as possible to avoid others feeling comfortable enough to approach them as they all wait in a common area. ”
“I understand. It’s not a problem. Thank you for the extra service,” Kaiser said.
“I’ll send a waiter over momentarily, but in the meantime, may I get your drinks?”
“I’d like an Amaretto and Pineapple juice,” Cristie said.
“Of course. And you, sir?” the manager asked.
“Two fingers of your best whiskey, neat, please,” Kaiser said.
“Coming right up. Please take your time with the menus and do not feel the need to hurry away after your meal. We have delicious desserts available and you are welcome to linger as long as you like.”
“Thank you,” Kaiser said.
Cristie watched the man hurry away, presumably to get their drinks, then looked comically at Kaiser. “Is this the usual?”
“What?” Kaiser asked, as he looked at her over the menu he was scanning for the biggest, thickest steak he could find.
“Specialty treatment. Apologies because they didn’t jump quickly enough when you first got here.”
Kaiser looked around the room at a few tables surreptitiously glancing toward them and whispering, then in the direction the manager had gone.
“Pretty much. But the trade off of being the focus of everyone else in here is not worth the specialty treatment. I’d much rather be anonymous and free to do whatever I want without worrying about pictures of me surfacing in every gossip rag between both coasts. ”
Cristie watched him as he glanced around the restaurant again — or at least as much of it as they could see from the table they’d been given sitting out of the way toward the back of the restaurant.
He was not exactly upset, but he seemed a little less than impressed.
“We could have just waited the forty-five minutes.”
Kaiser smiled at her quickly, then put his menu down and really smiled.
But it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know I sound ungrateful, but I’m so tired of it.
I know to a degree it comes with the territory.
But in all honestly… I just wanted to play baseball.
I still just want to play baseball. But it turns out that’s only part of the job.
The rest is that I’m expected to allow anyone who wants to, the option of inserting themselves into my private life.
And don’t get me wrong… I love my life, and the fans help give me the opportunity to live that life, but with social media becoming what it has, there are those who think that it gives them the right to access me twenty-four hours a day, no matter what I’m doing.
If I go to a doctor’s appointment, they want to take pictures with me in the waiting room,” he said, shaking his head.
“We didn’t wait like I’d planned to, because I noticed people recognizing me.
If we hadn’t taken the opportunity to be seated right away, they’d have started wanting to pat me on the back, buy us a drink, tell me what they’d have done differently in whatever game it was that they think was coached poorly.
Then they lean in and put their arms around my shoulders like we’re best friends.
They’d go live on social media and pretend they’re a member of the paparazzi, trying to introduce me to everyone they know on live social media.
And I know that to a degree, that’s what I signed up for, but what gives them the right to touch me?
What gives them the right to waltz into even the private parts of my life?
They’d have been asking you personal questions about yourself if we’d stood there long enough. ”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize just what you deal with regularly.”
“It’s alright, and I’ve never complained to anyone else.
If you weren’t who you are, I wouldn’t have told you either.
I always, always try to accommodate any fans, anyone who recognizes me, anyone who wants an autograph — and kids all the time regardless of what I’m doing.
But sometimes, the adults taking it too far, it just gets old.
And I guess I’m feeling it more at the moment because this is home.
I get followed everywhere I go in Atlanta, and I’ve started noticing a few familiar faces around here the last time or two that I came home.
I think it’s only a matter of time before it happens here, if it’s not already.
And that really gets me. I live here, and I just want some peace.
And tonight to have a quiet dinner with my best friend.
I don’t want to be Kaiser Lyakhov. I just want to be Kaiser.
I’ve gone from taking advantage of the perks because it used to be fun, to taking advantage of the perks because it gets me away from the public more quickly.
I do everything I’m supposed to. I donate more time than most do.
I make myself available for every charity that contacts me, and some that don’t.
Is it really too much to ask to have a modicum of normalcy every once in a while? ”
Cristie sat back in her chair, listening to her friend not only with her ears, but with her spirit. She watched his eyes, his mannerisms as he spoke. She sent out her senses to ‘feel’ him. “You’re losing yourself,” she said quietly.
“Sometimes I think I might be. I just need some quiet, you know?”
“I do. And you deserve that. Everybody needs some time to recharge.”
“You’d think. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dumped it on you, I just…”
“You absolutely should have dumped it on me, and a long, long time ago. What is your bestie for if not dumping on?” she asked.
Kaiser smiled at her, but it was still a little off. “I’ll be okay. I just need a little time to be me again.”
“I know. And you’ll get that here. At home, and at my home. There are parts of us that need to be able to just roam, if you know what I mean. We need to put our bare feet, or paws as it may be, in the grass under the moonlight and just forget all the adulting that is usually expected of us.”
“You’re right. And it’s been a while.”
“Want to run later?” she asked, flirtatiously.
“Absolutely.”