Page 81 of The Game

“Of course!” I say.

I glance at Anna, and she’s grinning at me. “YouTube star,” she mutters under her breath.

“Stop it,” I say with a shake of my head as I sign the boy’s exhibition program.

“Are you here exhibiting?” the woman asks. “We’ll come by the stand later. It would keep these two occupied.”

“I’m afraid not.” Why didn’t this occur to me? “Perhaps next year.”

When we move on, Anna waves a hand around the tent. “Don’t let me keep you from your public,” she says, still grinning. I roll my eyes at her.

But after an hour of answering questions and talking, Anna’s smile is a little brittle.

“Maybe we need coffee, cake, and a rest,” I suggest.

“I’m not sure I’m allowed cake,” she mumbles.

“Everyone’s allowed cake.” My lips curve up, and her eyes roam all over my face. I groan to myself. Every time she looks at me like I mean something to her, I want to kiss her. It’s one thing to hatch a plan with Fabian, but another thing entirely to execute it.

Kevin turns around from where he’s talking to one of the competitors. “Did someone mention a rest? We have a private box where you can watch the show and have refreshments if you like.”

I raise my eyebrows at Anna, and she stretches her back, nodding. “I am tired if I’m honest,” she says. “But I’d love to see what the dogs do out on the floor.”

Kevin gestures back to where we came in and then takes us through a whole series of long corridors through the bowels of the building. We go up a few escalators to a suite with a perfect view of the center of the stadium, and Kevin disappears to fetch tea and coffee and sort out some cake.

“Look at that Pekinese!” Anna says, flapping her hands as it bounds through tunnels and jumps over several obstacles. I grab a program from the table as wesettle into a couple of seats. There are so many kinds of competition. Some are about breeds, but others are trials of sorts—obedience, agility, even something they call “dock diving.” It’s mind-blowing.

She slips her hand into my elbow, and I’m ridiculously thrilled to have her hand back tucked into my side. “I could take them all home,” she whispers.

“Some of them are very valuable, more valuable than Pepper. You might have to take out a mortgage on that penthouse of yours.”

She laughs. “Perhaps Pepper would like a friend? That Pekinese wasverycute.”

“Are you kidding me? Share all the glorious fuss and attention she gets? She’d be so grumpy.”

I squeeze her hand where it’s resting on my arm, and she sighs then rests her head on my shoulder, and I have to fight to stop myself from turning to kiss her hair.

“Maybe she’d like a nice boyfriend.” She says this so quietly that I almost don’t catch her words, but my heart thumps in my chest when I do.

“Doesn’t every woman want a nice boyfriend?” I say.

33

ANNA

The Russian voice on the other end of the phone is one I haven’t heard for a year, possibly longer.

“Hello, my little one.”

My breath lodges in my chest. “Konstantin.” I try to keep my tone level but it cracks nonetheless.

“You are doing well,lyubov moya?”

I press my lips together at the endearment. “Can’t complain.”

“You bring credit to the whole academy, Anna. You were always a good girl for Uncle Konstantin.”

Cold fingers of ice creep down my neck. “Can I help you with something?”

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