3. One call in Istanbul

Blair

We got back to the apartment in the late morning, and soon I was sitting on the balcony, looking at the view opening up in front of me.

Not for the first time, I found myself thinking about what my life would be like if I moved to Istanbul, tried a transfer, or something like that. But at the same time it was hard to think about leaving my whole life behind like that, all my friends were in New Jersey, my apartment, everything. And besides, I seriously doubted whether I could get used to the conservative customs of that country. It was one thing to visit my parents there, but it was another thing to start living under that culture.

" Is there a problem? " Yusef asked, sitting down next to me.

" No, none at all," I smiled before looking down at a package in his hands, "what is it?”

" I bought it last week at the big bazaar when I heard you were coming," he reported, placing the package on my legs.

I busied myself in tearing open the package under the man's watchful eye, and then lifted a colorful handkerchief.

" Dad…”

" I know you think you have too many scarves already, but I also know that women like variety," he justified himself.

I rolled my eyes before resting my head on his shoulder.

" I love it, Dad. Come on, help me put it on.”

I straightened, turning toward him before handing him the scarf. Yusef wrapped the fabric around my neck before moving up a section, partially covering my hair. His hand went down to my face, caressing my cheek.

" You look even more beautiful this way," he commented, drawing a small smile from me.

The sound of my cell phone interrupted us, and I turned away from my father, looking at the unknown number on the screen.

" Aren't you going to answer it? " he asked.

" I don't know who it is.”

" There is a simple tactic to find out. One that doesn't involve telepathy," he sneered, causing me to glare at him.

I accepted the call and held the handset to my ear.

" Hello?”

" Blair? " a deep voice with a slight Russian accent sounded, causing me to frown. 

" Yes, who is this?”

" Dimitri Voitovich," he declared, as if I really should know who this was.

" Dimitri?" I blinked dazedly, not risking pronouncing that last name, while my father stared at me curiously. 

For a moment something crossed my mind, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. It would be ridiculous. 

" Voitovich " he added in an amused tone.

" OK... Can I help you with something, Dimitri Voitovich?”

I plopped down on the couch I was sitting on, still not really understanding what was going on.

" Well, actually yes. We both need to settle the laundry bill. It was hard to get that green drink out of my uniform, you know?”

I blinked in astonishment at this information. How did he find me?

" It's you! But how?”

My father moved beside me, looking even more interested in the conversation. As for me, I was too stunned to pay attention, until the answer came into my mind.

" Noah!”

" He said I needed to contact you somehow, and he was right.” 

" So, you want me to pay for your uniform? And all that talk about how everything was fine and I didn't need to worry?”

I bit my lower lip in a smile, forgetting for a second about my father's presence as I remembered how handsome that man was.

" Maybe I've changed my mind," I could feel a smile in his voice, and I would give anything to see that image.

" Maybe?” 

" We can settle this once and for all, we can go out for coffee and talk about my uniform," he returned in a smug tone that made me laugh, almost laugh.

" I am sorry, Commander Voitovich, but I don't consider your uniform to be such an interesting subject.”

" Dimitri, please. And if you want, you can choose a subject that interests you," he didn't seem willing to give up.

On the one hand I was flattered by his insistence, and on the other I was somewhat disappointed to know that I could not accept. This meeting could have been interesting

" Unfortunately, the subject matter is not the only obstacle, Dimitri. I'm not in the States, Noah didn't tell you?” 

" No, he didn't," he sounded disappointed.

Of course he didn't, the bastard probably really thought that Dimitri would charge me for washing his uniform.

" I'm sorry," I smiled in spite of everything.

" We can try another time, maybe one day you will fly to Russia, or I will come back…”

" My God, are you really going to keep the laundry bill all this time? " I raised my voice in fake surprise, making him laugh, "I said I was sorry!”

" Actually you said it was my fault.”

" That was before I realized that you were a commander, and…”

I turned away, finding my father's watchful gaze locked on me, causing my face to heat up. I had forgotten his presence.

 I couldn't believe I was flirting with someone in front of my father!

" I have to go," I stammered, trying to act natural. 

" Oh sure, can we talk later? " he questioned.

" Yes, of course. Bye," I returned, ending the call without expecting any response.

My father raised both eyebrows as he stared at me, and I quickly stood up, fixing my scarf on my head.

" Are we staying home for dinner? " I tried to change the subject, walking into the apartment's living room.

" A Russian? Out of all the people you had to get a Russian? " he teased, following me.

" I can help in the kitchen if you want," I insisted.

" So besides allying yourself with the enemy you want to burn down my house? What did I do to you, girl? " he returned.

I went into the kitchen, past the dining room where my mother was sitting using her laptop.

" What happened? " she asked, seeing my father following me. 

" Blair has a Russian boyfriend," Yusef pointed out, making me take a deep breath.

I turned toward him trying not to let him provoke me.

" He's not my boyfriend, he's the commander I spilled coffee on," I explained, "and he's not the enemy.”

" Have you forgotten the Russian-Turkish war? " he dramatically threw his hands up in the air.

" That war happened more than a hundred years before I was born, so yes! I forgot! " I returned " Russians are friends now.”

" We are at war with them in Syria," he smiled triumphantly.

" I'm not at war with anyone, so he's my friend," I gave the final word, "friend, not boyfriend.”

" I'll keep an eye out, miss," he winked before returning to the living room, leaving me only under the watchful eye of my mother.

" Friend? " she smiled.

" I don't even know if I can call him that, I just found out his name.”

I sighed, holding back a smile as I sat down beside her. My relationship with my mother had always been great, she was my biggest confidante and I felt great about that.

No one would be a better friend than my mother! 

" And why was your father picking on you?”

" He invited me for coffee. But I'm here and he won't be in Newark that long," I reported disappointedly.

" It's a real shame. Is he handsome? " she devoted her full attention to me.

" So handsome that I want to get on a plane right now," I groaned, leaning my forehead against the table.

" Come on, you'll find other handsome guys, preferably one who isn't at war with your country," she teased me.

" I'm not going to have this conversation with you either," I muttered, getting up, "he's not at war with anyone, least of all me.”

" It's a joke, you know that," she laughed as I walked away.

An involuntary smile came to my face as I watched her walk toward my father. I loved being with them.