Status: Four Chapters....

One Night

One Night With You Is What I'm Now Praying For

He had to stop and look twice to be sure but it was definitely her.

It had been years since he had seen her in person; she had changed, grownup, but there was no doubt in his mind that Claire Mitchell had just walked into the Penguin’s offices, shook Mario Lemieux’s hand, and began to speak in fluent, perfectly accented french to him before turning to greet his parents and speak fluent and perfectly accented russian to them.

He had met her when he was thirteen and she was twelve. Her father was a translator, an elite one who took jobs for a number of high profile foreign diplomats. Russia was the sixth country she'd lived in other than her own. Born in Washington, D.C., at six months old her family had moved to Egypt but by her first birthday they were in France.

Her first five years were spent immersed in the French language. It was the first of several languages she would come to learn. The family moved from France to Monaco and then Madagascar between the ages of five and ten.

At ten she moved to Belarus and began to learn Russian. When they met two years later in his hometown, he remembered being shocked to hear the American girl, with her blond pigtails and big, blue eyes, rattling off Russian like it was her first language.

They ended up being neighbors for the time her family spent in his city, and they became close friends. Geno took it upon himself to look out for her; she was smaller than him, smaller than most of his friends, and an outsider, even if she did speak the language.

When her dad was assigned to China after a year and a half, they sent letters and stayed in touch with instant messaging on the Internet, keeping Claire's Russian sharp. They talked less and less as they grew up, her family leaving China for Singapore and then returning back to the states as Geno's hockey career in Russia began to take off.

Sometime around the time he was drafted in 2004 he lost touch with her all together. Several years later, one of his teammates convinced him he needed a Facebook page so when he made himself a page, he looked for her. When he found her, he couldn't bring himself to click the friend request button.

It felt weird seeing pictures of her past mixed with her present when he hadn't spoken with her in so long. But he couldn't stop himself from looking at her page once or twice a week to see what she shared. She never mentioned a job but she seemed to live in DC and went to an obscene amount of Capitals games judging by how often her foursquare checkin read that she had been at the Verizon Center.

That and her profile picture was her in a Capitals jersey.

"Geno," Mario interrupted his thoughts. "I want you to meet your parents translator for their visit."

He turned to her and stared. She was even prettier in person than he remembered or her pictures let on. "Claire," he said reverently.

"You know each other?" Mario spoke in surprise.

"I apologize Mr. Lemieux," Claire began. "I was so excited to see the Malkin's we just slipped right into Russian. I lived in Magnitogorsk for eighteen months, next door to the Malkin's. This is a treat to be here for them this week."

"Where is Arthur?" Geno interrupted.

"His mother is ill and he needed to be with her in Vermont," Mario answered. "But before he left he recommended Miss Mitchell to me."

"You knew it would be my parents?" Geno asked her.

"Well, I think it was safe to assume it would be your parents once Mr. Lemieux identified himself and explained what he needed for one of his players parents. So of course I agreed. I just didn't tell your mom when we spoke last week."

He turned to his mom and spoke in a flurry of Russian. “You talked to her? Since when?”

His mom looked at him in confusion. “Claire visited home last year and came to see us. We talk once every week or so."

“You saw my parents last year?” he continued in Russian, turning to Claire.

“Of course.”

“Why have you never come to visit me?”

“I don’t think this is the time or the place to have that discussion, Evgeni.” Claire turned to Mario with an apologetic smile and switched seamlessly from Russian to French. “I am so sorry, Mr. Lemieux. As I’m sure you can imagine, it’s easy to slip into a language and forget that not everyone understands what you are saying.”

“Is this going to be okay? I don’t want anyone uncomfortable," Mario stated, glancing at Geno who still stared at Claire.

“I assure you that there is no discomfort for me. You’d have to speak to your star Russian about his feelings,” Claire smiled. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No, I believe my assistant got everything she needed from you.”

Claire nodded before turning to Geno and speaking in english. “I assume you want to get your parents settled at your house and such today. I know tomorrow you have a game; should I come get them and take them out after your practice or just pick them up before the game?”

“Come over before game,” Geno answered. “I give you my address.”

~*~*~


Claire woke in her hotel suite the following morning to a knock at her door, a voice announcing that the room service she had ordered the night before for breakfast had arrived. She threw a robe on and opened the door, allowing the young hotel employee to wheel the tray inside, setting up on a table near the balcony that overlooked downtown Pittsburgh. She thanked him, tipping him generously before closing the door behind him.

She ate her breakfast and showered, changing into a smart but casual outfit. The Malkin's were not like her usual clients so she knew she didn't have to dress all business for them. Black skinny pants with knee high black boots, a mint colored sleeveless peplum top with a black lace mock neck halter that tied in a bow in the back. She grabbed a black long sleeved cardigan that had a shawl collar that draped along her front.

It was early April and although the sun was out, there was still a chill in the air so on her way out the door, Claire grabbed her royal blue peacoat and slipped it on. When she reached her rental car, she grabbed the piece of paper from the center console where Geno had written down his address and put the information into the GPS, letting it navigate her out of the city and to his house.

“Wow,” she murmured under her breath as she pulled into the driveway of his palatial home. She parked behind several expensive cars and stepped out just as Geno opened the front door and stepped outside.

“Claire.” He started down the stairs towards her. He wore dress pants and a white button up shirt. He looked expensive, and handsome, yet with the same kind eyes and boyish smile she remembered from when they were kids.

“Hello, Evgeni.”

“Geno. Everyone call me Geno.”

“Are your parents settled in okay? Did they have a nice day today?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“About?”

“You.”

“Me? Why?”

“I want to check up.”

“Check up? Do you mean catch up, Evgeni?”

“Yes, catch up.”

“Why? We haven’t spoken in years.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay. When?”

“Tomorrow. I take you to dinner.”

“Lunch. Dinner would mean this is a date and it’s not a date.” He nodded in agreement and Claire smiled. “Your english is very good.”

He blushed. “Thank you. Took a lot of practice, lot of years.”

“Your parents are inside?”

“Yes, inside.” He motioned for her to follow and they headed inside, where his mother was cooking in the kitchen.

Natalia Malkin looked up from the stove with a smile and began to talk to Claire in her native tongue. “Claire! Sit, sit. I’m almost finished.”

“Thank you, Natalia,” Claire replied in the same accented Russian as she slid into a chair at the kitchen table. Geno took the one beside her and shrugged sheepishly.

“She always make my favorite when she visits,” he told her in english.

His father Vladimir looked up and smiled at Claire as she sat down, greeting her in Russian. “Claire, Natalia said you live in Washington. That is where Alexander plays, yes, Evgeni?”

“Yeah, for the Capitals,” Geno answered.

“I met Alex, when he first came to the Capitals. I was interning for Arthur in New York for the summer while I was going to school in DC. The Capitals called, needed someone when he first got there and Arthur recommended me. That was my first real job and when I graduated, I started my own firm because of it.”

“You own your own business?”

“Yes; mostly I interpret for politicians and the UN, like my dad did, but I’ve been branching out recently to athletes. I’ve been working with the Baltimore Orioles for almost two years for one of their pitchers.” She smiled and her eyes softened and Geno clenched his fists in his lap. He knew that look on a woman’s face. He did not like it on Claire’s face.

“Anyway," she continued, "I go to Baltimore whenever I don’t have any other jobs lined up to work with Wei-Yin. He wants to learn English so I help him. I’ve been thinking about going back to school so I can teach english as a second language.”

“Claire, that is wonderful. It sounds like you are doing so well for yourself,” Natalia gushed as she brought food to the table. She began serving everyone before taking her own seat. “Eat."

Claire helped Natalia clear the table after they finished eating and Geno excused himself to finish getting ready. When he came back down stairs, Claire paused to study him. His suit jacket matched the blue of his pants and he was knotting a darker blue tie into place.

“Let me,” Claire said, stepping forward. She reached for the tie, her hands brushing his before he dropped them to his side. She knotted the tie quickly and then smoothed it down. “Perfect,” she smiled.

“Thanks. I am still bad at this.”

“I bet if I looked in your closet that I’d find a tangle of these still knotted, just let out enough for you to slip over that giant head of yours.”

“My head is not big.”

“It’s huge.”

“Sid, he have big head.”

“Crosby does not have a big head. It’s normal sized.”

“You know who Sid is?”

“Everyone knows who is Sidney Crosby is.”

“So you follow my team?”

“No; I have season tickets for the Capitals.” Geno frowned and Claire laughed. “I translated for Alex for several seasons, and I still do for his parents from time to time. I came to love the sport when I started working with him.”

“What about the baseball player?”

“Who? Wei-Yin?” She shook her head. “That’s not your business, Evgeni.”

“Geno," he corrected her again. "Friends call me Geno.”

“We aren’t friends. Not anymore.”
♠ ♠ ♠
HUGE thank you and hugs to Thatmom for sending me this idea. I started writing this almost a year ago and got pretty much the whole thing written except an ending. It sat and I would open it every so often, read it, maybe write a sentence or two for months. After finishing my last story a month ago, I challenged myself to start completing the plethora of WIPs I have sitting in my google drive and I'm so glad to have finally finished this one.

Just as a side note, I know I noted it in the summary but this is set in the 13-14 season.