After Happily Ever Afte- Astrid Ohletz Page 0,54
fitness trainer awaited her.
Tova was waiting for her the next morning. She was dressed in a loose t-shirt, and her tanned thighs under the bike pants were as toned as any top ten player’s. Without makeup, with her hair scraped back in a ponytail, Tova looked like any workout partner Alina’s fitness trainer might throw at her.
But none of them had made Alina’s belly clench, had made her avert her eyes from the shape of her breasts under the loose t-shirt.
Alina nodded a greeting, and moved to the treadmills. She set the program and started at a brisk walk.
Tova glanced over Alina’s shoulder at the display, stepped onto the neighbouring treadmill, and set the same pace.
“I know the basic information.” Tova flicked her a glance from under lowered lashes as she strode at Alina’s pace. “You’re twenty-six, born in Russia, trained in Florida. Your… boyfriend is Mikhail Kreshnov. You have possibly the best power game on the tour right now—”
“Serena Williams might not agree.” Alina increased the speed and broke into a jog.
Tova matched her. “Ten years ago that comment would be true. Now, not so much. I stand by my words. Tell me what you did last night.”
“That isn’t relevant.”
“I disagree.”
Alina increased the pace again. Four minutes thirty seconds per kilometre. “I ate the meal my nutrition coach had ordered for me from the hotel menu. I did 45 minutes of yoga and mental conditioning exercises.” She flicked a sideways glance. Tova, too had increased her pace.
“Is that all? Did you call anyone? Watch TV? Read a book? Check your socials?” There was no pity in Tova’s voice, just mild curiosity.
Tova wasn’t even breathing heavily. For a second, Alina considered upping the treadmill pace even more, but she resisted. Her warm up called for 20 minutes at this speed. “Sometimes I call my mother. Not often. She lives in a small town and the internet is not good there.”
“TV,” Tova persisted. “You must turn it on at some point.”
“Yes. During a tournament, I watch my next opponent’s matches.” Her footfalls thudded on the belt and she kept her gaze on the ticking timer. Seventeen minutes to go. She’d spent maybe five minutes in Tova’s company. She’d asked the simplest questions, but already, Alina found herself evading Tova’s piercing blue gaze.
“And at other times? Now, for instance, when you don’t have a next opponent.”
Alina shot her a glance. Was that a dig at her early loss? But Tova was running steadily, lightly for such a tall woman, her gaze focussed on the TV screen on the wall of the gym.
“Sometimes I’ll watch an old series, if there’s one I like.”
“Such as?” There was a smile in Tova’s voice. “How old are we talking? Neighbours? Home and Away? I Love Lucy?”
“Not those. Sci-fi. Battlestar Galactica. Stargate. Even Star Trek.”
“Favourite captain?”
“Janeway.”
“Mine too.” Tova directed a quick smile at Alina. “Why do you like sci-fi?”
Alina held her gaze for a moment longer than she should. A sheen of sweat glistened on Tova’s shoulders, and her t-shirt clung damply to the small of her back. “Exploration. People working together as a team. There’s a theme too in most of the shows of working towards a greater good.”
“Yes. And there’s seldom any discrimination for species, gender, planet of birth.” A sideways glance. “Sexuality, age.”
“That too.”
“I hadn’t pegged you for a Trekkie. I wonder how else you will surprise me, Alina Pashin?”
The days fell into a pattern. Every day, Tova would be waiting at Alina’s early training session: the practice courts, the gym, or the pool. Tova would keep pace with her on the treadmill, or perch on a bench typing fast with two fingers on a tablet as Alina worked through her strength exercises with her fitness coach. If Alina looked her way, Tova would glance up with a bright smile and open expression, holding Alina’s gaze until, discomfited, Alina would have to look away.
At lunchtimes, they would go together to the players’ café. Alina would eat her usual chicken salad, Tova would order something different each day: burritos, a ramen noodle bowl. Dessert. She would shoot questions at Alina, interspersing questions about tennis, and life on the tour with other, seemingly inconsequential things.
“What would you have done with your life if you hadn’t been successful as a player?” she would ask. Or, “How do you see the future of this planet?” Tova seemed to accept Alina’s answers, but Alina still tightened in nervous anticipation when she spied a certain faraway look in Tova’s eyes