Page 54 of Playing the Game
“Come and sit down.”
He guided her to the couch.
“Okay, rewind. What’s happened at home?”
“Mama is being hideous. She won’t let me do anything. Now she’s making me tell her everything I’m spending my money on. With receipts.”
Jonas raised an eyebrow. “Not plane tickets evidently.”
Anna shrugged. “I used Papa’s credit card. He’s never around.”
Their father worked as an international financier. His work took him to the four corners of the globe.
Anna’s mother, Tuva, was not Jonas’. And as far as evil stepmothers went, she was up there with the worst of them.
“I’d better call her,” he said.
A full-on family argument hadn’t been on his wish list for the day when he’d woken that morning.
“No!”
“Anna, she probably has the police involved by now.”
She slumped on the sofa.
Jonas grabbed his phone and connected the call.
“Jonas,” Tuva said. The mere sound of her voice made his skin crawl. “What is it? I’m in the middle of something.”
“What would that be?”
“None of your concern.”
Even under the circumstances, Jonas couldn’t resist teasing her. He rarely had the upper hand.
“I have something of yours here.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you missing a sullen teenager?”
Silence.
“Dark hair. Pale skin. Murderous scowl.”
“Are you involved in this?”
“Not guilty. She arrived about three minutes ago. She’s still got her coat on.”
Tuva sighed. “Put her on the next plane. I’ll have the driver pick her up. Then she’s in real trouble.”
Jonas glanced at his sister. He remembered when Tuva had control over his life. It had been one of the biggest motivators for pursuing football. An early escape route.
“She’ll be home next week.”
Anna snapped to attention. Her face bursting with joy.
“I beg your pardon?” Tuva retorted.
