Page 35 of Sway

12

Vika

IWALK INTO my kitchen with my iPhone up to my ear. Marina hands me a protein shake as an electronic voice informs me, “You have one new message.”

“Hi, Viktoria Brooks. We would like to see if you’re interested in posing for Playbunny for a Dancing under the Stars spread. Izabella Jasinski has already agreed to pose. We would love to have you represent the professional dancers. Please call me back at your earliest convenience at (312) 555-5309. Thank you.”

No fucking way!

“Venya!” I shriek and run to his office. “Venya!”

Benny looks up from his newspaper. “What is it, luv?”

“Oh my God. Playbunny just called. They want me to be in a magazine. It’s dream come true. Oh Venya, please let me do it, please?” I beg.

“Playbunny?” He takes that in, his newspaper still wide open in his hands. C’mon, c’mon . . . Slowly he lowers it. “Well, Vika, I’m not sure. . .”

I slither to his side. “Venya, I just have to pose in Playbunny. I’ve always wanted to be playmate, even before I ever started dancing. It is huge honor. Iza has already agreed to pose. It would create a great buzz for show. I will mention our studio, and of course, my loving, wonderful, handsome husband.” I playfully rub up against his body. “Don’t you want to say that you’re married to Playbunny?”

He takes a sip of his scotch then places it on a coaster on his antique desk. “Now, love, I’m already married to the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t know if I want all these mates to have a Captain Cook at my girl. I’m just not sure Playbunny is the right image for the Brooks family.”

“Venya . . .” Go slow, Vika, sloooow. No startling moves. “I think it would be great. We could reach the whole new male audience. Everybody reads Playbunny. Please. No ballroom dancer has ever posed in Playbunny. We would be first.” He looks back down at the newspaper. Are you kidding me? I’m talking Playbunny and he’s reading the fucking Wall Street Journal? Go for the balls, Vika—as if he’s got any, the shriveled old . . . “Listen up, Benjamin Russell Brooks. This is least you can do after forcing me go to that . . . that stupid dance council meeting. Especially since it took me two coats of Sun Shimmer to get rid of marks you left on my arm. Do you know how big red marks look on camera?”

His eyes cut to me over the top of the paper. Yeah, he caught the threat. It’s a gamble, but I want this. I take his scotch and finish it off for him, tossing it back like a man.

Benny breaks into a laugh. “Okay, Lassie.” He gets up from his chair and takes the glass from my hand. “But only if you get the cover.”

“Oh, thank you, Venya!” I jump on him and wrap my legs around him. “I love you so much. I really do. I’ll make you proud.” Benny lifts me up and carries me to the bedroom. Of course—I did the crime, now I must do my time.

Four minutes later, Benny lies passed out on the bed. I curl up in our plush comforter. What it would be like to be married to Tony? Would he control everything I said or did? My baba warned me before I married Benny, “One may make up a soft bed for somebody, but still it will be hard to sleep in.” I wish I were lying in Tony’s bed. I put on a silk kimono I got in Japan after one of my showcases, sneak out onto our deck, and then light a cigarette. I rarely smoke—it’s bad for my swing—but right now I need to relax. Time to tell Tony. Where’d I put that fucking iPhone?

I finish my cigarette and tip toe past Benny to the staircase. “Marishka!”

Marina rushes up the stairs with my phone in hand.

“Sbacibo.”I grab it from her hand then shoot a text to Tony.

Vika (Mobile): You want to see me naked?

Five seconds later, my iPhone flashes.

Tony (Mobile): I’m on my way.

Damn, can’t I just flirt without him taking me seriously?

Vika (Mobile): Sorry, Antoshka, you’ll have to wait until next month. When I’m in the Playbunny.

That should do it. Another flash.

Tony (Mobile): Awesome babe. But I already know—I suggested it to the founder at his Midsummer’s Night Dream party. He said he was gonna offer it to you. I knew you couldn’t say no. Thank me later by giving me a preview.

Bastard. I can’t believe he set this up to manipulate me. Hope he likes the pictures, because that’s the only time he’ll see me naked.

Playbunnymagazine . . . Playbunny! This time next month, millions of men all over the world are going to be lusting over me. Me. I whip off my kimono and watch it flutter toward the garden. Everyone back in Odessa will finally know that I made it in America.

* * *

AWEEK LATER, I’m ready for my close-up.