Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Alexei
Had I come here to wish my old friend well and congratulate him on all his achievements? Of course.
Did I relish the bonus of seeing Lauren seething in anger at the sight of me impinging on her turf? Absolutely.
Jason stood and reached to pull me into a hug. “Naz! You made it!”
“I would not miss it for the world.” I winked over his shoulder at Lauren, who narrowed her eyes to slits and tried to send a laser beam of death at my head. “Even though I have seen the Cup several times before in my teammates’ backyards. Mine, too.”
“Here we go,” Jason grumbled.
“Perhaps you should introduce me to the true prize. Isn’t there a wife and a baby to be fussed over?”
Jason grinned. “Not a wife yet, but that’ll happen. Wait ’til you see little Cammi. She’s fucking gorgeous. Franky took her inside to feed her, so hold up here and I’ll get you a—”
“Baby?”
“I was gonna say ‘beer,’ but I can do both. Multi-talented.”
He sounded a little tipsy which was perfectly his right. The man had scored the jackpot, and I looked forward to meeting his snail-loving baby mama.
“You hang here with Lo—hey, Lo, look who it is. Our old pal, Nazarov.”
Lauren’s lips parted in a smile that did nothing to warm those silver eyes. “So I see. Alexei.”
“Hello, Lauren.”
She glared at me but shifted her expression to something more neutral while Jason watched.
“Let me tell you where to find the best Chicago pizza.” She held up a hand to Jason. “Your opinion isn’t valid here, Isner. We all know you think deep dish is overrated. Off you skedaddle to perform your hostly duties.”
He saluted us both and headed off while I took a moment to take her in: today she wore her hair in a ponytail which made her look younger, or maybe it was the vintage Chicago Athenas tee—her old team—and the high-cut shorts that showcased a smooth expanse of golden thigh.
My fingers twitched, and I longed for that beer to occupy them.
I gestured at the seat Jason had just vacated. “May I?”
“If you must.”
Oh, I must. “How are you?”
“How do you think I am?”
“You have done your research, then.”
She turned her head stiffly. “I don’t like this, Nazarov. Not one bit. And you know what I especially don’t like about it. How cool as a cucumber you’re being about this whole situation.”
“Cool as a what?”
“Cucumber. It’s a very popular saying. At least it’s something my sister says. You knew I’d be here.”
“I am here to congratulate Jason and meet his baby. It’s not all about you, Lauren.”
“You absolute ass—”
“Here she is!” Jason was approaching with a tiny bundle and a striking woman in glasses at his side. The world-famous snail expert, I assumed.
I stood to greet them.
“Doc, this is Alexei Nazarov. Naz, meet Francesca St. James.”
Smiling at me, she adjusted her glasses. “You’re arriving in Chicago at an interesting time. Pity you didn’t show your face before the Rebels won the Cup.”
Lauren snorted her approval of this blunt assessment of my timing.
“I’m not much interested in trophies.”
“Sure, Naz,” Jason said skeptically. “Any interest in babies?”
“A little. I have been to several baptisms, and I am godfather to at least three former teammates. I haven’t dropped a child yet.”
“Would you like to hold her?” Franky asked.
I was a little surprised as new mothers tended to be protective of their babies, but Jason was already placing the child in my arms. A real stunner, she had big blue eyes, a mop of dark hair, and a cupid bow mouth.
“She is beautiful, Isner. Thankfully, just like her mother.”
Jason grinned. “Right? I’m choosing not to acknowledge your insult because this day is too amazing to take you seriously.”
I spoke to the little girl, my gaze locking on hers. “You are going to break many hearts, little Cammi. Starting with your father when you crash his car the first time he tries to teach you how to drive. But don’t worry, he will forgive you because he will be a fool for your charms.”
I felt a movement at my elbow. Lauren had stood to get a better look at the baby. She smelled of vanilla and summer.
“You did good here, J,” she said. “Top of the class.”
“Lo thinks I’m smug,” Jason said to Franky.
“Lo’s right.” But she tempered her judgment with a hand on his chest and a soft kiss on his lips. “I’d better take her back in. I don’t want her to get overheated in this sun.”
As Franky walked away, a new arrival joined us, and if I had to guess, I would say this was the boyfriend. Lanky, floppy-haired, all American, and exceptionally average.
I waited for someone to introduce us but apparently it was unnecessary.
“Alexei Nazarov? Wow, I can’t believe you’re here! Well, I knew you were with the Rebels now, but don’t you guys spend your summers in Russia?”
“I live in the United States and rarely return.”
“Gotcha. Guess it’s kind of weird back there if you’ve subscribed to the creed of red, white, and blue.” He turned to Lauren. “Babe, you never said Alexei Nazarov would be a guest.”
“I had no idea. This is Jason and Franky’s event.”
The boyfriend thrust out his hand. “So great to meet you. I’m a big fan.”
I shook it, gave a tight squeeze. “And you are?”
“Sorry! I’m Thad Covington. Lauren’s guy.” He put an arm around her shoulder, and was it my imagination that she flinched a touch? Because of me or because of him?
I looked forward to finding out.
“Nice to meet you.”
“And in case you’re wondering, I’m not in pro sports—well, I used to play football in college until I blew out my knee—so, not to be.
Now I run an investment fund.” He pulled a card holder out of his pocket.
“If ever you’re in need of financial advice, I’m your man. I have a lot of athletes for clients.”
I skimmed the card he gave me. Thad Covington & Associates. Score big with your cash.
I caught Lauren’s eye. She looked embarrassed at her boyfriend’s touting for clients in this casual setting.
She spoke up. “Thad, no business talk at the fun cookout.”
“Sorry, can’t help it. I’m always thinking of how to make my clients happy.” Chuckling, he turned back to me. “So, you and Jason go way back, huh?”
“Yes, we were at the University of Michigan at the same time. With Lauren, too.”
Thad’s brow crimped. “Babe, you didn’t tell me you went to college with Alexei Nazarov.”
“No? Must’ve slipped my mind.” Seeming to realize that might be too revealing, she added, “To be fair, Isner’s ego was the star of our graduating year.”
Jason stuck out his tongue at her, and she stuck it out right back.
These two had always been close, and while I might have been concerned once, I no longer had worries on that score.
The way Jason looked at Francesca told me all I needed to know about the owner of his heart.
He was a man in love—and it wasn’t with his friend of many years.
Thad looked between us all. “So. Cool. Hard to believe I get to hang with these legends.”
“Oh, they don’t need to hear that,” Lauren said. “Okay, I need a drink. Can I get something for anyone?”
We all demurred, and Lauren headed off into the house, her long stride eating the ground with purpose. She was clearly uneasy holding court with both her husband and her boyfriend at the same time.
What was most interesting, though? He knew who I was, but not who I was. It had been three days since I showed up at her office with the news, and she had yet to share it with the man who was supposed to mean so much to her.
“So, Covington,” Jason said. “I heard Boden’s your favorite Rebel.”
Thad’s eyes widened a touch. “Nah, you’re the best, man!”
“Just messing with you. You can have more than one, and we all know it’s probably me anyway. Just don’t tell Hatch.”
Thad laughed uproariously, though Jason’s words weren’t all that funny.
I’d had enough of this guy. He was barely of interest and that was only because of his current relationship with Lauren.
My wife.
It was hard to believe, and before I had arrived at this cookout, I would have thought it even harder to understand how I could keep it that way. But now I had met the man who was not worthy to tie her skate laces. This knowledge only hardened my resolve.
I made my excuses and followed her into the house. No sign of her in the kitchen so I wandered the rooms seeking her out. I found her upstairs, hovering at a doorway to a room with yellow walls, a bookshelf with toys and books, and one of those hanging things with butterflies. The baby’s room.
“Lauren,” I said softly.
Her shoulders stiffened. “What do you want?”
“We need to talk.”
“I’m not sure we do. I have a lawyer on the case. He’s looking into what needs to happen to make this un-happen.”
Still resisting. I understood. She thought her life was going in one direction and I had pulled her into the getaway car, speeding away from the scene of the crime.
“Is it so horrible to be married to me?”
She pivoted, eyes flashing. “This isn’t a joke, Nazarov! Getting married to you is probably the worst thing I’ve done—and I once faked a stalker and ran away to bolster my story.”
“You did?”
“When I was twelve.”
A rough time for her. When she was that age, her father was imprisoned for fraud. It had a huge impact on her life, but then fathers always seemed to wield an outsize influence.
“And ever since you have led a blameless life. The model student, the honorable captain, the perfect teammate, the legendary pro. You have trod the path of straight and narrow, and one little mistake has revealed something about yourself.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
I leaned in. “That, deep down, you might be a bad girl after all.”
She did not like that. Her chest heaved, those perfectly supple breasts lifting and making my mouth water. This was always the way with Lauren. I had wanted her the moment I saw her, but I couldn’t have her. I couldn’t bring that energy into her life. That danger.
But times had changed. My family’s enemies were a thing of the past, and these days my most intractable foe was this woman’s stubbornness.
The baby gurgled and Lauren checked her quickly to make sure she was okay. On closer inspection, I noticed that the hanging butterflies were actually colorful snails.
Facing me once more, she pushed me out into the hallway. “What needs to happen to make this go away, Alexei?”
“Let’s get to know each other again first.”
“And if I don’t agree?”
I didn’t want to go there, but she needed to understand I was serious. “You have not told this boyfriend about me. That is interesting.”
Fury flashed in those silver eyes. “You are such a dick.”
“Yes, that is who you have married.”
Perhaps, I should have started with the carrot instead of the stick. I was known for my adaptability on the ice, my ability to feint and weave. Opponents considered me wily. A quick pivot in strategy was necessary.
“But I have another proposition for you.”
“This gets better and better.”
“Arkady Volkov.”
Whatever insult she had been about to issue died on her lips.
Everyone in this business knew of Volkov, the nineteen-year-old phenom from Stalingrad.
He was currently at the University of Minnesota and had recently separated from his management—his father.
Every sports agent in the country was trying to sign him.
“You know him?”
“I am a mentor of sorts.”
“And you’d facilitate an introduction?”
“Let’s discuss it over dinner.”
Her expression cycled through a scowl, consternation, before finally settling on calculation. Right choice.
She pushed past me. “I’ll text you about a meeting, Ass-arov, because that’s all it is. A business meeting. In the meantime, I hope you step on tiny Legos.”