Page 82 of The Game

“It is kind of you to offer,” I can almost see his head incline as he says it. I wasn’t offering, and he’s well aware of that, of course.

“We have an event planned this Saturday,” he carries on, “coaching, a tournament. For the hopefuls, you understand. I thought it would be …” He pauses. “… beneficialif you came here and coached. To have someone with your profile there, a member of the academy, would be most favorably received, I think.”

Go toRussia? “This weekend? That’s … that’s … very short notice.” I stammer out. It’s Wednesday now.

Silence.Oh God.What is his game here? And what does he mean,favorably received?

“You have a gap in your schedule at the moment, no?”

Crap, what do I say to that? “Well, I have a lot of preparation and practice to do for the Australian Open. I leave after Christmas in two weeks. I’ve got a set program that I …”

“But you can train here, and this will be an opportunity to visit your parents. I will send a jet for you.”

I’ve finally persuaded my parents to come to the US for Christmas, but I don’t want to tell him that in case he interferes somehow.

“I wasn’t planning on coming to Russia. I don’t normally come back for …”

He clears his throat. It’s a sound of annoyance that I know only too well that in the past would lead to … My chest constricts.

“There’s some people you want to impress?” I hurry on.

“Some influential people will be there. It would be beneficial to you to make the connections. It is time you came home and saw your Uncle Konstantin. We will talk. You have people making trouble for you, I think. Arty Maroz. His father causes problems for me also.”

I let out a brittle little laugh.Home. Interesting word choice. “Arty’s a publicity hound. The media are always diving into my business these days. I think Arty has sponsors he needs to keep happy. As have I.”

Breathing in my ear, hot and tight. “I hope that wasn’t a threat, little one?” His voice has a familiar mean tilt to it.

“A threat? What do you mean?”

“The press, Anna. You wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Uncle Konstantin, would you?”

“Why would the press be a threat? Building a higher profile for your academies could be amazing. My PR team would be delighted.” Perhaps the media provides more of a buffer than I thought.

“I took your parents out to dinner last time I was in St. Petersburg. Theywere pleased with how well your tennis is going, Anna.”

My parents?My father wasn’t impressed at how I played in the Billie Jean Cup, and he wouldn’t say anything to Konstantin even if he was thrilled. If they went out to eat with him, he must have threatened them.

“It is a shame he had to give up his game,” he adds.

Why is he talking about my dad’s tennis career? Shit. This is a typical Konstantin conversation. He just wants to remind me he could go after my parents. Dammit, I would love to get them permanently out of Russia. But the reality is, I’m probably going to have to suck this up.

“When would I need to be there?” I say.

“Friday.”

Two days away.Christ.“Let me think about it.”

And he explodes, spitting fury about how I need to watch my step. Eventually, I manage to get off the phone but it’s clear that not going is not really an option. I’m shaking when I hang up. I’ve seen him do this before. It starts with the threats, then someone returns bruised or has some strange, unexplained accident. My stomach turns over.Russia.Every time I go, I have a gut wrench that I might never get out again.

I pace around the apartment, staring out of the window across the rooftops of the other tower blocks close to mine. How far does Konstantin’s reach extend? Is this building being watched? Adam talked to me about my getting some personal security and l haven’t bitten the bullet. I should have listened to him. The only thing between me and someone getting in here is the doorman downstairs.Stupid, Anna.

I pad over to the system and lock the elevator.

Then I walk over to the cupboard and grab some tea. Ginseng and chamomile. Perhaps watching a movie tonight would be a good distraction. Something light and fluffy. I pull up Netflix and browse through the options, choosing a romantic comedy and settling in. But ten minutes in, the male character has already knocked a gorgeous woman off her bike and sworn to his guy friends that he’s not interested because he’s committed to being single forever. It’s so unrealistic it makes my eyes roll.

I pause the movie, head back to the kitchen, and take my snacks out of the fridge. Konstantin keeps an eye on what I do, but he hasn’t called me in such a long time. I was hoping I’d thrown off that period of my life, but how naive is that? From thirteen to twenty-five—haven’t I given them enough of me? My gut is churning with the idea I might never leave it behind.

I want company and a chat, something to take my mind off that call, but who do I have who’d understand? My parents would worry if they knew. Mila? At least she’ll get it.

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