Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
We pull into the parking lot of the Silver Spring Recovery Center, and the car stops under the awning. I get out of the car and look around. It almost looks like a hotel, but I know it’s not.
I walk into the front door, and I’m greeted by the girl at the desk who smiles. “Welcome to Silver Spring Recovery Center, how may I help you today?”
“Hi there, my name is Matthew Grant, and I’m here to pick up Viktor Petrov,” I tell her, and she nods her head.
“He was in the waiting area,” she tells me and gets up from her desk. “If you will follow me,” she says and leads me to a door she has to scan a card to open. We walk down a hallway that is all windows, and the sun is shining in. It really looks like a spa; she turns the corner and enters this huge room with four televisions on each wall all playing something different. A loveseat and two single seats are situated in front of each television. I look around to see a couple of people sitting in the room. A lone guy watches a sports channel, and I have no doubt who that is watching the show.
I walk over to him and look at him. Fuck, he must have hit the gym hard while he was in here. He for sure is about thirty pounds heavier, and fuck, if he isn’t bigger than he was in May, and he actually looks healthy. He spots me and turns, and I see his hair is longer on top than normal. “Well, look at this. I get the VIP treatment.” He smiles and gets up, holding his hand out to me.
“Figured I’d give you a lift home,” I tell him, and he just nods. He picks up the bag that I just noticed on the floor beside him. “Have you been discharged?” I ask him, and he just nods. “Then let’s hit the road. The plane is waiting.”
He follows me out and says hello to the receptionist, giving her a little wink when he leaves, and the woman just sighs while he walks out of the door. The car ride to the plane is silent, and when he gets on the plane, he sits down in the chair in front of me. The attendant comes over and asks if we would like something to drink.
“Water, please,” Viktor asks her. Even though I know he’s American and grew up in Russia, I expected him to have a Russian accent, but he doesn’t; it’s barely there. I order the same and wait for her to deliver the drink and for the plane to be in the air to start the meeting.
“I bet you’re wondering why I signed you?” I ask him, and his dark blue eyes just stare at me.
“I know why you signed me,” he says. “You’d be a fool not to sign me.”
I laugh now. “You think very highly of yourself.” He just shrugs. “But I can’t ignore that when you’re on the ball, you are on the ball.”
“That’s why you signed me,” he says, taking a sip of his water.
“You’re right, but I didn’t sign you for the bullshit that you have been pulling for the past two years,” I tell him, cutting to the chase. “Listen, I’ve been down. Fuck, my career was nonexistent when I went back home with my tail between my legs, but I got a chance.” I watch him. “A very big chance and now I’m giving you yours.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t let him or give him room to say anything. “We are piss testing you weekly until I think it’s good enough. If don’t like the terms, you can leave now.” He glares but doesn’t say anything. “We have you staying in Max’s loft for a month for you to get your stuff settled.”
“I need to find a realtor,” he says. “I have my stuff waiting to be shipped from LA.”
“Already ahead of you there. My sister Zoe will meet with you tomorrow afternoon,” I tell him. “She is the best there is, and if there is a house out there, she knows about it.” He nods again, not saying a word. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the flight. He does eat, though; he eats everything they put in front of him.
When the wheels finally touch down, I look at him. “Welcome home, Viktor. Welcome to New York.”