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I waited until I had a coffee in front of me before calling him, and then I rang. I think I was holding my breath ... it rang once, twice, three times and he picked up. What a rush ... nerves, excitement, lack of air ...
“Brooker,” he said, in his sexy baritone voice.
“Russian, how are you?”
“Great,” he answered. “Did you get the job?”
I laughed. “Not that quickly. They said they’d let me know by Wednesday.”
“Who interviewed you?”
“Karen Meares and Gerard Threlfall,” I told him. “Know them?”
“I know Gerard,” he said.
“And, more importantly, the receptionist bailed me up before I entered the interview to tell me she thought you were stunning. Not handsome, but stunning ... like a sunset,” I teased. I couldn’t help myself, it was a bit of a test. I was hoping he wouldn’t say ‘did she now, what’s her number?’ or ‘I’ll have to drop in’ or something equally as flirty and horrendous. I couldn’t stand a flirty man. But the gorgeous Russian didn’t. Instead he said: “Stunning, well that’s a new one. And what’s the potential sports commentator for cable TV think?”
I stirred my coffee, grinning from ear to ear like a totally love-smitten teenager.
“Well, she thought you scrubbed up pretty well,” I said.
I heard his deep chuckle.
“Mm, high praise. Hold a sec for me?” he asked.
“Sure,” I answered. I heard him talking to someone in the background, he must have been in his office. He returned to the phone call.
“Sorry about that, I’m always in demand,” he sighed.
“It’s a curse,” I agreed. Please, please, ask me out again. My brain was urgently debating whether to say I should let him go since he was at work or make some other pointless small talk when he took charge.
“I’m going to the gym tomorrow morning. Going to be there?” he asked. “We could spot each other on the weights.”
“We could do that if you think you can manage the weights I’m lifting,” I teased him.
I heard him chuckle again. “I’ll do my best. Six?”
“See you there at six,” I agreed and hung up.
I loved my life! How funny it was ... one month before I had been in the throes of depression, unable to play, getting more physio than the entire Suns team, my career crashing down on me and then, two months later, I was in the running for my dream job and getting another chance to see the man of my dreams.
You never knew what was around the corner, but it was worth waiting for.
The next morning I would get to see The Russian lifting weights, his muscles bulging and rippling, his sexy waist and hips bending and stretching, those long legs ... where was I? Oh yes, The Russian looking gorgeous ... and I might even get a coffee and muffin with him afterward if I was lucky.
