Hello, Privet! #1: Hello/Привет

Chapter 9

SOPHIE

"Hi, my name is Isabele Bloomfield," says this rather bubbly and petite brunette in the reception area by John's office. She's one of John's assistants. "I just started last month," she tells me.

"Oh, I'm Sophie Rosenbaum." We shake hands. "I'm here for my second interview."

After my grilling with Bernie Bergstrom yesterday, John gave me the rest of the day to decide if I still want the job. Of course I wanted it, mainly because of that grilling Bergstrom put me through.

Isabele is typing something on her phone and then turns to me. "So...who are you working for?"

"Chloe Barnes-Knightley," I answer.

"Oh, Chloe..." Isabele nods and then purses her lips. "She's handling some Olympic ice skaters, gymnasts and tennis players right now."

"Yeah...John mentioned something about a tennis player."

"Who? Vegard Jakobsen, Mikkeline Burchardt or Anton Akhmerov?"

"Yup, that last one. Anton's his name."

"Ohhh..." says Isabele, her mouth turning downward, her delicate brows knitting with concern. "Anton Akhmerov?"

"Yeah, that's the guy."

"That's—that's great." Then she smiles this awkward smile that for some reason worries me. She's obviously trying to warn me about Anton.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Isabele smiles nervously. "Anton's great. He's really—"

"Come on, Isabele. I can take it."

"It's really much better if you get to know him yourself," is what she says after a long pause. "Or maybe you don't even have to see him, you know? He's always on tour anyway." She considers me for a moment. "Wait a minute. Do you seriously not know who Anton Akhmerov is?"

I shrug. "He's a model too, right? For Calvin Klein?"

"Are you for real?" Isabele asks in amusement. "Or have you been living under a rock?"

"Hmm, sort of," I say. "I don't really like sports, I guess...apart from show-jumping?"

"Don't let them hear you say that," Isabele says.

I look behind her.

Willa is walking in the hallway chatting with a sandy-haired guy in a blue suit.

"Hey, who's this?" the guy asks, smiling.

"Sophie Rosenbaum, Warren Hayes. Warren, Sophie," says Willa.

"Hey, glad to have you on the team," says Warren, shaking my hand. "Have you met Chloe yet?"

I turn from him to Willa. "Um, not yet."

"It's only Sophie's first day," says Willa. "I'll introduce them later." She gestures for me to follow her. "John's ready to see you now."

JOHN

When I first met Sophie Rosenbaum, exactly ten years ago, Daniel told me his sister was "smart for her age." But she wasn't just smart for her age. She was one of those prodigies who could do calculus problems at nine years old.

The last I heard of Sophie, she got into Harvard when she was fifteen, but that's when it got a little mucked up. She dropped out one year before graduating, moved to California and then took off for Israel. I guess these child prodigies plateau at some point in their lives.