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Touché.
"When are you going to call him? Can you call now? Please?" Enthusiastically, I shook his arm and jumped, bobbing on my knees. "Dad!"
He chuckled at my eagerness, the light in his eyes returning. My dad and I had the same exact shade of green eyes. I resembled him the most. From my dark hair, thin straight nose, and skin tone, we were very similar. And just like my dad, when I got excited about something, my eyes turned a brilliant jade color. Although, I wasn't sure where the deep crimson tones in my hair or freckles came from.
He faked a sigh, restraining a smile. "Come into my office and I'll give him a call."
"Really?" I shrieked. When he nodded, I threw my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. "Oh, thank you, Dad! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
He patted my back lovingly. I jumped from my bed and trailed closely behind. Once we were back in his office, I plopped down into a studded leather chair in front of his desk. I placed my hands under my thighs so I didn't fidget while my father got situated.
And by situated, I mean pouring himself a glass of bourbon.
"All right, remind me again what level you are. What’s the goal you want to achieve?"
Sadness crept inside me. I wish he knew without me having to remind him. The man could spout off twenty different business transactions from the top of his head, but he couldn't retain a few facts about his daughter.
"I'm a level ten, but I want to test for elite. Find out if he coaches elite first and if he has an elite program."
He nodded and dialed a number, enabling the speakerphone. The phone rang a few times until a deep voice picked up.
"Allo?"
My brows creased together. A-low?
"Konstantin, my friend, Frank Rossi here. How are you doing?"
"Frank, it is good to hear your voice. You are just the man I wanted to speak with actually." Dad mentioned he was Russian, and his heavy accent confirmed it.
"Is that so? Perfect timing, then. Did you happen to get my Christmas gift? I sent a bottle of my favorite vodka to you and that pretty girlfriend of yours."
Konstantin paused, laughing lightly. "I will have to ask Katja when I get home. Her appetite for vodka is just as voracious as mine. I hope she did not drink it all without me." He chuckled, as did my dad. "Thank you in advance. That was very kind of you."
"How is Katja doing? Have you guys decided to settle down yet?" Dad asked, swirling his glass tumbler of bourbon. As much as I liked hearing him catch up with his friend, I was anxious for him to get to the point.
"Ah, not yet," he responded with a deep sigh. "It is not for her lack of trying. All in good time."
Dad chuckled and my heart started to beat faster over his next set of words. "I have a question for you. Are you still coaching gymnastics?"
"Funny you should ask. I am, and I just happened to buy World Cup from the previous owners about a year ago. I was thinking about expanding it, but I wanted your expertise on whether it is worth it or not."
"Ah. . . " Dad's brows lifted, a sparkle twinkling in his eyes. I knew that look. It was his chance to dabble in something look. "How perfect the timing is, then. Do you recall telling me when my precious daughter was ready to switch to give you a call?"
He paused. Silence filled the air. My heart stopped. "I do."
"She came to me earlier and wanted to transfer to some gym in New Hampshire. Do you know of any gym over there?"
"Not one worth remembering."
Dad's eyes bore into mine. He raised a pointed brow and smirked. "Well, she said it's one of the best gyms on the East Coast. But I can't imagine anyone being better than you."
Konstantin chuckled. "You flatter me. I had no idea your daughter was still training. Tell me, what level is she."
I held up two hands to remind him.
"She's a level ten, but she said her gym doesn't have an—"
"Elite coach," I whispered.
