“Thank you.”
“Well!” Fujiko Isoya twists herself in circles as she thinks of something else to say. “I will leave you tonight. Please have a pleasant time in my paradise.”
“We sure will.”
“Tomorrow night my niece and I show you real fun in Japan. So sleep well, Ms. Alison.”
The soft click of a hotel room latching shut has never sounded so sweet until now.
“Ms. Alisoooonnn,” my boyfriend’s voice coos behind me. “Is everything satisfactooorrryyyy?”
To his credit, he’s not mimicking Ms. Isoya’s accent. He isn’t that rude.
“No.” I saunter back to the bed with a pout on my face. “I’m severely lacking in one of my rooms.”
“Rooms? Is that what we’re calling your vagina now?”
Only this man can yell vagina and not make me cringe. “You wanted an excuse to say vagina?”
“Vagina, vagina, vagina.” He opens his legs and motions like he’s flagging a plane for landing. “Penis, penis, penis?”
I roll my eyes before collapsing on the bed between his legs. “What beautiful harmony they live in together.”
He sits up and gazes down into my face. “So I hear we get whatever we want from room service. We should abuse that. With strawberries and whipped cream.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Babe.” Ian gently tugs on my long hair to get his point across. “Strawberries and whipped cream. In your rooms.”
Sometimes I’m not sure he thinks through what he says. Whatever. I end up laughing either way.
Chapter 2
IAN
I’d be more into this All-American breakfast if it weren’t for all the whipped cream I ingested last night.
Usually I need a mighty helping of wine or champagne to get me in that kind of frisky mood. Or a simple reminder that I’m in a foreign country with the woman I want to try every kinky thing ever with.
Apparently, dabbing whipped cream on her bare abdomen while I dragged strawberries across her skin using nothing but my mouth is one of those kinks on that list.
Mercy!
Kathryn looks at her waffle loaded with strawberries and whipped cream and is gonna hurl. She was the only one who ate more cream than me last night.
“Please enjoy,” our waiter says in English. Thank God, because I don’t know any Japanese. My French got us by when we went to Paris a few months ago, but between Katie and me, we probably know how to say three things in Japanese. She keeps going on about how she wishes she brought her friend Eva along because she knows Mandarin… the fuck good is Mandarin going to do us in Japan? I’d like to see Kathryn try saying that in front of our magnanimous Japanese hosts.
“Thought we were going to have fish and miso for breakfast,” Kathryn mumbles as she fumbles with her fork. She carefully pushes aside whipped cream and only eats the waffle. When I ask for the syrup, I’m met with confused looks. Right. The Japanese really don’t do the whole maple syrup thing. Unless it’s injected into random pastries you buy at the convenience store.
Our hostess doesn’t join us until halfway through breakfast, apologizing for her absence. The bags beneath her eyes and shaky way she walks suggests she was either up all night drinking or fucking someone half her age. Trust me, I know. If you had my mother, you’d know too. (Gross.) Come to think of it, I think my mother would love Fujiko. I imagine the two of them trotting around Tokyo looking for their next twenty-something fix to keep their post-menopausal blood alive.
“Good morning,” she says with only half of her usual fervor. “Eat up, please. We’ve got a long day of discussions ahead of us.”
I love how she makes it sound like we’re on the same side of these discussions. Naturally, the Isoyas want to strike a favorable deal with us, but Fujiko shouldn’t pretend she’s not spearheading our combined bullshitting campaigns. She’ll be the first one to point out shit the family doesn’t like about our offers. After her brother gives her a coded look, of course.
I see these things. You bet your ass I notice them.
Everyone in this family has a role to play. I especially see it later after brunch, when we’re back in a conference room discussing what we both want from our supposed deal. Akihiro Isoya is the chairman with a lot of family history resting on his shoulders. No decision gets made without his approval, but he’s the strong and silent type, even for a weathered Japanese businessman, so he relies on those directly beneath him on the family food chain to relay his wishes and to translate what others are saying. Namely, today’s is filled by his twin sister Fujiko and their niece Junri, who is the heir presumptive of the company. The other younger man looks like another body at this point. He’s the lowest on the food chain. From what Valerie reported, Kunihiro Isoya is from another branch of the family and only here because he has proven competent. Not that it means anything to the chairman.