“I’m so sorry about your dad,” Sascha said. “Was he Russian?”
I nodded. “Yep. He was Russian and my mom was American. They actually met in Russia while my mom was studying abroad there, and when her time was up, she said goodbye to my father, and he was so heartbroken he emptied his bank account following her back here.”
Sascha smiled. “How romantic. My dad followed a woman too, granted it was not my mother and given that it was smack dab in the middle of their marriage while she was pregnant with my younger sister, it didn’t go over as well.” My jaw dropped and Sascha clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I tend to overshare.”
“No, that’s quite all right. I’m so sorry about that,” I responded. “Did your sister ever meet him?”
Sascha nodded, taking a sip of her wine. “He got remarried and his new wife, not the woman he cheated with by the way, she really wanted him to make amends with my mom and be there for us. He turned back up wanting to be dad of the year. My sister was more into it than I was, but we worked through our issues in a very surface, now we can see each other on holidays and not be weird sort of way.”
“Better than nothing,” I said.
“True. My sister was excited he came back, so I was excited for her,” she replied. “Do you have any siblings?”
“No. I always wanted one, but I suppose it was a shock enough that my mother had me. My dad wanted me to stay in touch with my Russian roots, so we spent half a year in Russia every year. My dad was one of eight, each with children of their own, so I have many cousins,” I explained.
“So, do you speak fluent Russian too?” Sascha asked.
“Da, krasivo, russkiy eto chast’ togo, kto ya yest’,” I replied.
Sascha’s cheeks darkened a bit. “Wow. That was beautiful, what’d you say?”
“I said, ‘Yes, beautiful, Russian is part of who I am.” I mirrored the way her smile grew as I complimented her, and took my own drink of my wine.
We spent more time talking about Russia, and how Sascha had never left the county. I could see myself whisking her away to my country of origin at some point. Russia would be hard pressed to meet her splendor, but it’d be worth a shot. She started asking to learn some phrases, so I taught her the words for ‘beautiful,’ ‘writing,’ and ‘passion,’ along with explain some of the words used to describe dishes on the menu. Just like when we first entered, she had a great handle on the pronunciation of the words, including a vocal inflection. I could sit and listen to her speak Russian all day. She told me more about her friends and family, specifically her friend Erin, who just started a relationship with two men. I thought it interesting that she’d bring that up given our particular situation, but I didn’t want to consider what she might be suggesting and put it out of my mind.
Once we placed the order for our food, Sascha was delighted to learn our food would be prepared directly in front of us, complete with using different types of Vodka to create multi-colored flames over which to cook the food. She was skeptical, but surprised by the borscht that was served as an appetizer while we watched the food being prepared, and went crazy for the pirozhkis. We ended the meal with Russian tea cakes, and a dessert wine.
“Can I admit something to you?” she started again.
“Of course,” I replied.
“I’ve been attracted to you since the first day you interviewed me.”
My eyes got a bit wider. “Really?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve seen you recently, but…” She held up a thumb and I laughed.
“Well good, if it gets me dates with beautiful women like you, I can’t complain.”
We finished our dinner and began our drive back down towards the city. Listening to her talk as we drove was heavenly. She was so intelligent and when she really got excited about something, her voice took on this adorable higher pitch and her eyes got a bit wild; it was irresistible. I was beyond disappointed when we finally pulled up in front of her apartment complex.
She looked at me, the corner of her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. I had to beat down my animal instincts with a bat. Slow and steady; no more surprise attacks. “Can I kiss you?” I asked.
She smiled wide and nodded and leaned in. I thought our first kiss was great, but a mutual one was earth-shattering. Her fingers crawled into my hair again, and with her complete permission, I let myself go a little bit. Even with the center console of my car dividing us, I pulled her as close as I could and her tongue poked out from between her lips and I released mine to meet it. Things heated up quickly. I wanted her, and as she damn near dragged me into the passenger’s seat, it was clear she wanted me too.