When he was done; there were no left-over parts; everything was tight and ready to be used. Sasha was just completing her final steps. She stood back and smiled, admiring her work.
Jubilantly, they high fived each other and placed the first two reformers where Sasha wanted them to be placed.
Rick glanced at his watch; it had taken them about forty-five minutes the first two. There was no time to waste, he knew they would get a little faster as they worked on the next ones, but he wanted to make sure that they would be done in time to clean up and go out to dinner.
He picked up the packing materials and garbage and took them out to the truck. While he was doing that, he had Sasha place the flattened boxes in place to be used for the next assemblies.
By the time they had finished the fourth set, they had their time down to a half an hour. They attacked the final one together. They were able to knock off another ten minutes off that assembly time.
When they were all done, they stood side by side admiring a job well done. Rick, absentmindedly, put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.
Quickly, she turned to face him, for a split second he thought he had somehow offended her, but then she placed her arms around his back. The next thing he knew, his feet left the floor, and his ribs began to compress.
Sasha quickly let him go, both turned scarlet with embarrassment; she from her outburst of emotion, Rick from the realization that he was becoming sexually aroused by her strength.
Both tried to apologize at once and then there was an awkward silence between them.
“I’m going to bring the rest of this garbage out to my truck; then I’ll take it to the company dumpster.”
Sasha replied, “How much do I owe you?”
“Have dinner with me.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“I was talking about me.”
“This will just be dinner, no more than that, a chance to get to know each other better. Besides, you still owe me for my work here. That is all that I want from you; nothing more. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to pick you up.”
“Make it twenty, I have to close up, lock the front door and make myself presentable.”
“You look beautiful just as you are.”
He turned and left her standing there before she could respond.
Twenty minutes later, he returned, left his truck running, and knocked on the back door. Before he had finished knocking, the door swung open and she stepped out, shutting the hall light as she left. Rick walked her around the front of his truck and held the door as she climbed in.
Moments later they heading out of the parking lot, took a left on 75th Avenue heading north. At the Aqua Fria Freeway, they headed east then took the Piestewa Freeway, State Highway 51, south into Phoenix. They took the exit for East Shea Boulevard and headed east once again.
“Rick, where are we going?”
“We’re going to a little Mexican restaurant call La Fonda del Sol, it’s family owned and run, not much atmosphere, but the food always comes out hot and is the best I have ever tasted. You do eat Mexican, don’t you? I’m sorry; I just assumed that everyone who lives in Arizona eats Mexican. If you want, we can go somewhere else.”
“Yes, I love Mexican food; just as long as they have cold beer on tap to go with it.”
“How does an ice-cold mug of Dos XX’s Amber sound?”
“Lead me to it.”
They parked in the back parking lot and entered the restaurant. Rick introduced Sasha to Jeanine, the owner, as his friend, and they were seated in a small alcove off the main dining room. One of Jeanine’s sons, Carlos, took their drink order, “Two, Dos XXs Amber.”
When they were alone again, they perused the menu. Rick decided on two enchiladas, one chicken, the other cheese, with refried beans and rice, Sasha, a burrito, and a side order of black beans.
Carlos returned a short time later with two frosted mugs of beer, a large basket of chips, and two types of salsa. Pulling a small pad from his back pocket, he took their orders.
‘Watch out for the thinner salsa, it’s ‘muy caliente’.”
Rick lifted his mug and asked, “What should we drink to?”
“To a job well done, nine reformers, and to friendship.”
They clinked glasses and took a healthy drink. Sasha said, “oh that is so good. Thank you, Rick. It has been a long time since I’ve been out on….”
She stopped in mid-sentence, not quite sure if she should continue.
Rick rescued her a moment later.
“This is not a date; it’s just dinner with a friend for now.” However, both knew that this was the beginning of something more than friendship; as Sherlock Holmes would say, ‘the game is afoot.’
Just then, Carlos returned with their meals. The steam was rising from both their plates.
“While we wait for our food to cool down a little, tell me about yourself. There is just a hint of an accent in your voice; is that Russian?”
“Yes, you have a good ear. I was born in Moscow. My parents were born in a small village about thirty miles north from there. Both were party members. My mother worked as a file clerk, my father was a low-level bureaucrat, in some department or other. They had two sons. One died in Afghanistan, the other died in Chechnya. I never knew either of them. I was a change of life baby. When the Wall came down and the communist party collapsed two years later, I was just three years old.
My parents were lost in the chaos that followed. My father was a functional drunk. Without the Party he had no purpose. Ten years later Putin consolidated power. My mother feared for her life. She begged my father to get us out. I don’t know how he was able to do it, but he got my mother and I on a plane to London. Once there, we were able to fly to New York. My mother and I lived with an uncle who lived in Brighton Beach in Brooklyn.
He got my mother a job in a deli and got me into the school system. I learned English and did well in school. I did gymnastics until the age of fourteen, when I had to quit because of a bad back. That was when I started Pilates. I didn’t know where the money came from, and I never asked. One day my mother told me that she was returning to Russia. When I asked her why, she said she had no choice. She knew too much. When I asked her what she meant she said, “I worked as a file clerk for the KGB. They don’t know what I know or if the FBI knows I was KGB. They want me back in Russia. They have been watching us since we got here. It’s either I go back willingly, or they eliminate their problem.”
I told her I did not want to leave the United States. She told me I didn’t have to; but that I had to leave Brighton Beach at once. I was eighteen years old, when I was placed on a train; I had one suitcase of clothes, a new passport, and a new name. I never questioned why. To this day I don’t know what my mother did or what her fate was once she returned to Russia. I thank her every day for the sacrifices she must have made so I could live my life in freedom.”
They ate their meal in relative silence. Rick watched as she ate half of her burrito, then unwrapped the second half and ate the chicken, rice and beans, leaving the wrap.