I did not like
being spotted first if I was to meet someone I did not know. Alyona had been
helpful keeping my identity secret more than once and I really liked her. Even
if she had fooled me into thinking that she was in my camp and working for me,
I enjoyed spending time talking to her during my stays in Moscow. The added
benefit with Alyona was that she could speak Polish very well and we could
escape into Polish if we needed to from time to time to exchange information
about people I was to meet or get details straight on other logistical items in
the hotel (i.e., who to avoid, who was a good guy, ways to endear myself to
staff, etc.). I was curious if Alyona was working for us. It would have been a
supreme error and dangerous for us both to ask that question. I never knew if
it was true. We also had never touched the subject of getting together
secretly. I knew she was married and she knew I had a wife in Poland. That was
all she knew about me…or at least what I had told her.
The striking
brunette that Alyona pointed to was standing in front of me within seconds. I
stood to greet her and she introduced herself, “Good evening! Mr. Bill from
Poland?” She waited for a confirmation of that and seemed concerned when I
hesitated. My delay was a response to my surprise that she did not look as I
had imagined. She was, in fact, a dark brunette but she looked like a clean cut
American girl out of a Cover Girl magazine or a pretty Harvard co-ed exchange
student…beautifully dressed but somewhat conservatively if you looked at the
other striking women knock-outs sporting a tidal wave of Slavic sultry sex made
up and dressed to bring every lobby bar patron to their knees. Natalya was
equally beautiful but different. I almost instinctually thought, “OMG…I’d marry
this one.”
“Yes, Natalya?” I
finally spit out.
“Hi! I am glad you
are here. How was your trip from Poland? Did you get some rest after you
arrived? May I join you?” she asked. Natalya was extremely smooth with a
beautiful smile and round dark beautiful eyes that made her look more from the
Middle East than from Russia. Her embroidered white peasant blouse, mid-length
pleated grey skirt, and shoulder-length deep cinnamon tinted hair were pleasantly out of place where
extraordinary amounts of cleavage, slit dresses, and bleached blonde Vidal Sassoon coiffures
were the rule.
I pointed to the
seat across from me and Natalya quickly asked if the seat next to me wouldn’t
be better. I agreed and pulled the chair back for her to slide into the rather
low table. Alyona had our drinks to us seconds after we had sat down. I think
she saw us sharing a moment of silence…sizing each other up, I suppose.
No comments:
Post a Comment