Wedding Date with the Billionaire Page 12

  “Are any of those nightclubs we used to go to still around?” he suggested. With Seattle the birthplace of many great musicians, the city’s live music scene was a mecca. There had been countless nights that she and Kento spent nursing a long-necked beer bottle and listening to a rock-and-roll band, some good, some simply loud.

  “That’s not something I ever do anymore, either, but let’s look it up.” With a few swipes on her phone, she located a club that sounded promising and gave the driver the address. They crawled back into their clothes, Kento in his tux again but skipping the tie. Despite their agreement that they shouldn’t further complicate the weekend with more physical intimacy, their pull toward each other had trampled over any common sense.

  People milled about outside the Emerald Bar. Dressed in jeans, flannel and leather, it looked to be a crowd of university students. Just as they once were. Which made her so aware of how much time had moved on. All heads shot toward them when the limo pulled up to the curb. Eschewing the driver’s offer to open the door for them, Kento exited and extended his arm to Erin to help her out.

  “I just thought of the fact that tuxedo and gown isn’t quite the dress code for places like this,” she said, hearing the thumping music spilling out from the club’s doors.

  “I suppose not,” he replied with a chuckle.

  They were eyed up and down by the people outside, where there was nothing for Erin and Kento to do but shrug their shoulders. A girl with arms covered in tattoos called good-naturedly, “How was the wedding?”

  “Pretty good,” Kento answered for them, “but our personal after-party was even better.”

  Erin sparkled recalling the drive around Seattle they’d just taken, the limo serving as more than just a mode of transportation. She forked a hand through her hair, wondering if it had become messy, although not really caring if she looked wanton. On the arm of the most appealing man she had ever known and after what they just did, she felt confident in her own sexuality in a way she never had before as they traipsed into the club.

  Finding seats to the side of the stage, he pulled out the chair for her to sit and then arranged his own to be right next to it. The small table was wood and people had carved their initials or slogans into it. “Beer?” he asked above the beat of the band as he perused the sticky laminated menu card, noting that even in a dive like this the brews were artisanal with lofty descriptions. That was Seattle. “How about notes of pine, herbs and orange peel with a bitter crispy finish?”

  Which struck them both as funny. “How can beer be crispy?” she inquired.

  He mimicked taking a big bite and ordered two when the waitress came.

  Soon they were sipping from long-necked bottles, just like the old days, as they both pumped their shoulders in rhythm with the bass-heavy foursome on stage. All skinny in torn jeans, two with bushy beards, the band blasted out rapid-fire songs one after the next.

  Erin surely couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun. Why couldn’t have things gone differently for them? her mind lamented. All these years when she’d thought of him, it was with the sting of loss, of being walked out on. Knowing now that he thought she was part of the militia mustered to force him out only slightly assuaged that mixed-up ache.

  What if he had told her about the bribes and threats? Would she have stayed with him, taken a side? If she was being brutally honest, probably not. She would have been too afraid back then. But in her imagination, what if she had chosen him over her parents? Might they have gone forward as young adults together in Seattle? Would he have stayed here, or would he have pursued the opportunity with his uncle in Tokyo, anyway?

  The central question that had arisen time and time again lit up in her mind like it was written in neon lights. If he’d asked her to move to Japan with him, would she have? Might not that have been her only chance at a true break from the preplanned life her parents had already drafted for her?

  Five thousand miles could have been far enough away, on a continent they had no connection to, for them to give up on running her life. Would they have let her be out of spite, daring her to turn her back on their money and the safety it brought? Or would they have chased after her, employing surveillance, making her life unpleasant and still controlled? She was only beginning to understand the depths of their cold-bloodedness, so maybe it was a naive fantasy to think she could have jetted away with Kento from everything she knew, to start fresh. But it was a dream she’d allowed herself for seven long years.

  After two sets from the band and two crispy beers, they were hungry. Returning to the still-in-business twenty-four-hour diner they used to go to for late-night eats, they sauntered in with their violet satin and black tux. The decor had been spruced up, but the vibe was the same. Night-crawling hipsters, workers who’d just finished shifts, lovers who only had eyes for each other, even big family groups all munched from massive, heavy white plates. Kento and Erin ordered breakfast food of bacon and eggs, served with potatoes, toast and coffee. They dug in as soon as it was served.

  She returned to the thoughts of what could have been that she’d had at the club. And the far recess of her mind was screaming, What about now? She didn’t know whether to give that voice any credence, yet it kept popping up. With fork in hand, she asked, “Tell me more about your life in Tokyo. How did you go from working for your uncle to creating NIRE?”

  “It’s a fast pace there in general, but I have to admit I ascended quickly. I was just ahead of the curve on what people wanted programs to do for them. I seem to have a knack for coming up with what the market will respond to.”

  “So, as soon as you got there, you started working at your uncle’s office?”

  “Yeah, at first I lived with some other cousins on the outskirts of town and had to commute into the city every day. Uncle Riku had a small development company, and I did coding for him and whatever work he needed done. I started designing apps in my spare time. After I sold the first few, I got on to the big software projects I had in mind, and I had enough money to open my own office.”

  Erin tried to picture that. Going to look at empty office space to lease in the modern high-rise buildings of the business districts. Attending to all of the details of running a business. She was amazed at his bravery, still only in his midtwenties when this was taking shape. Opening his own company had to have been a big risk to take. “Did you hire employees right away?”

  “We started with a small staff in a space that had one office and a half dozen workstations. Within a couple of years, we took over the entire floor. Now we have six floors and a think tank outside the city.”

  “Was it ever an obstacle for you, being an American?” What she was really asking was how it would have been for her had she gone with him. Which, of course, wasn’t a true comparison, as he was of Japanese descent and spoke the language.

  “The culture is more formal and modest there than it is here. People don’t express how they feel as much. And they don’t touch as casually. They bow. Social hierarchies are important.”

  How would she have fared as a stranger in a strange land? Learning any language was a challenge, but Japanese, with its character sets and writing systems, would have been especially difficult. Not looking like the majority, when walking down the street she’d have been instantly identified as a foreigner. In addition to language, there were those social norms to learn. Could she have made a life there, created a home for the two of them?

  “Where do you live?”

  “Now that’s just like it would be anywhere in the world for a bachelor billionaire. I have a sleek penthouse on the forty-third floor. Glass walls, black and chrome furniture, extra rooms I never use. Food delivered. A housekeeper who takes care of everything. I’m a cliché.” Erin tried to picture what he was describing—an elevator like the Space Needle’s shooting him up to his apartment. He abruptly put down his fork and reached across the tabl
e to take both of Erin’s hands in his. “Why don’t you come visit me sometime and let me show you?”

  After their explosive encounter under the shower and in his cabin last night, they’d agreed not to make love again, that they’d stop playing with fire. Which was supposed to help keep her internal volcano from erupting. But they hadn’t held themselves back. Tonight, being in the city with him again had switched the light inside her to the on position. From this evening forward, she was forever changed. In fact, she knew in a blink that she was going to see that penthouse, lie down on his bed in the sky. No matter what it took.

  “I don’t speak a word of Japanese.”

  “You could learn.”

  “Teach me how to say something. Right now.”

  “Okay.” He hesitated then said, looking into her waiting eyes, “Aishiteru.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means ‘I love you.’”

  * * *

  After the ferry whisked Erin and Kento back across the Sound in the wee hours, they returned to his cabin. Due in the morning at the gift-opening brunch, in a few hours they would be thrown right back into the throng of the wedding party. It had been a long day, and after a dozen or so tender kisses good-night in bed, beautiful Erin fell quickly to sleep in his arms.

  Slumber didn’t come as easily for him as he watched the night shadows play against the skylight in the bedroom.

  Aishiteru.

  I love you.

  He’d said it aloud. In two languages. The crazy thing was, it was true. It had always been true. Maybe the stars had been in his favor when Erin had the idea of a fake boyfriend for the weekend. Without that, they wouldn’t have spent so much time together, helping him to realize that it wasn’t the past with her he planned to forget that mattered. It was the future they were going to create.

  He stroked her arm ever so gently so as not to wake her, the mild movement in contrast to the giddiness inside him. He’d declared his love to a woman. To the woman that he’d been in love with all along. How distorted a mind could get five thousand miles away from the person who owned his heart. Pain had removed the longings of his soul.

  When he’d uttered those important words in two different tongues, she didn’t return them. For a moment, sitting in the diner’s orange plastic booth, their plates of American breakfast in front of them, he’d felt slapped by her lack of response. Fortunately, the practicality and patience that had enabled him to build his company to where it was today served him in this facet of life also.

  He’d wounded her so critically years ago. Even though he was only a frightened kid, he’d always been tormented by guilt that he’d deserted her in the process. And learning this weekend about how little she knew of what went on made him guiltier still. After him, she’d had a series of disappointments in dating. Then she was abandoned, another dismissal, by Harris. She was quite smart not to bark out a forced and cursory I love you, too.

  The moon shining in from the skylight above his bed shifted to give a glow to her face. He could wait for her. In a way, he’d been waiting for her all along. They’d go at her pace. He had to earn her trust again, and that was okay with him. The main thing was that they’d made a plan at the diner. He’d return to Seattle in a few weeks. After that, she’d agreed to come to Japan. She’d even expressed interest in learning about the customs that she would be unfamiliar with. It wouldn’t be easy there as a white woman without knowing the language. They’d start by getting a tutor here. Optimism tingled through him. He wouldn’t just show her Tokyo, but he’d take her outside the city, to see stunning Mount Fuji. Like Mount Rainier here in Washington, Fuji was the tallest volcano in the area. There were so many places he wanted to show her in the beautiful country he called home.

  Above all else, Erin was finally determined to chart her own path. That would be far harder for her than learning a new language. The break she’d have to make from her parents might be absolute. That they could hate Kento enough to turn their back on their daughter was in and of itself an illustration of their character, one that should make it easier for her to walk away. He could support her as much as possible, but that turning point would be hers alone. Dotting her peaceful-looking face with wispy kisses, he knew she could tackle whatever lay ahead. It was her time.

  His eyes moved to the dream catcher party favor the guests had been given at the rehearsal dinner. He lifted it from the nightstand and hooked it onto the bedpost. It must be working, he thought with a smile that no one saw. Holding Erin, he finally drifted into a contented sleep.

  At daybreak, Erin left his embrace to go prepare for the morning. They’d meet at the brunch. But when Kento arrived to the lodge’s lounge, he couldn’t spot her anywhere. Christy and Lucas were front and center, with the guests seated at small tables arranged in a semicircle around them. People nibbled from their brunch plates—baked French toast, a fruit and yogurt bar, and coffee and tea were set up as a buffet. Lucas held up the latest kitchen mixer, eliciting oohs and wows from the group. Christy tore the silver wrapping paper from a set of luxury bedsheets.

  He spotted Amber and Demarcus sitting together, his arm around the bridesmaid. Good, Kento thought, suddenly soppy about people finding their significant other. As a matter of fact, on closer survey, he also saw MacKenzie and Divya each sitting with a man. Bunny and Ingram were nowhere to be found.

  Kento was beginning to get worried about Erin and stepped out of the lounge to call her. Until his eye caught sight of Ingram in a small side salon across the lobby. Kento made his way over there, wondering if Erin was with him.

  Careful not to be seen, as she needed to deal with her parents herself, he got close enough to see that Bunny and Erin were in the room as well, huddled close. All three of their faces were strained. Still moving sideways to avoid notice, Kento couldn’t help but listen in when he heard the harsh tones coming from their mouths.

  “It started out fake, but it’s become real. Realer than anything I’ve ever felt.”

  “We won’t stand for it.”

  “You should like Kento now, Father,” Erin hissed. “He has both fame and fortune. Lots and lots of money. Let’s order the criteria of what’s important to you. Is there anything besides pedigree and wealth?”

  “Erin, are we to have a repeat of seven years ago?” Ingram asked sternly.

  Bunny followed suit. “He’s not one of our kind.”

  “What on earth does that even mean anymore? Isn’t rich and successful our kind of people? I found someone rich.”

  Kento winced. She’d found someone rich. He didn’t like the sound of that. Why didn’t she say that she’d found someone she loved? Oh, that’s right, she’d never told him that she loved him. Last night during the fun and exhilaration of the limo and the nightclub, she’d confided a change, but not one she was honestly going to be able to make. Maybe it was something that sounded doable in theory but, when push came to shove, she couldn’t put it into practice.

  “For heaven’s sake, Erin,” her father scolded. “You know what your mother means. Established families. Multigenerational wealth. You have a duty to marry strategically and produce the next generation of the Barclay legacy.”

  Erin glared at both of them but had no retort. Here it was. In the time it took for the wedding guests to spoon blueberry yogurt into their mouths, Kento’s dream come true had morphed into the recurring nightmare from the past. She wasn’t going to stand up to them. Ever. He recognized the body language. Her shoulders slumped. Her eyes deadened. Once again, she’d been defeated.

  Unable to witness any longer, Kento dashed away. As he rushed toward his cabin, cries of disappointment stifled in his throat. How ridiculous of him to allow the thoughts he’d had while lying in bed a few dark hours ago with Erin warm against his chest. He should have been the wiser one at the diner, where they talked like they had as young adults about great plans and bright days
ahead.

  He burst into his cabin and slammed the door shut. Furious with himself. Why didn’t he protect her from fighting a futile war she was never going to win? She was no match for Ingram and Bunny and never would be. That’s who she was and she was entitled to that much, at least. He wished he hadn’t tempted her, prompted her. Subjected her to more frustration, more loss. One thing was for sure—he wouldn’t do it again.

  The best thing he could do was to leave before it got even worse. And again go without a trace. That way he could be the bad guy. Let her hate him. Let him take the blame. Let the naysayers be right. Love stretched the limits of what a person would do for another. He’d do that for his love. He’d go home, lick his wounds and then move forward. Like he always did. Alone. This brush with could-have-been would be the final one. Yes, a new set of memories would forever vie for his attention. Memories he’d secretly treasure like jewels for the rest of his days. Just there to remind him of what was almost possible. They’d be enough.

  They’d have to be.

  He tossed everything he’d brought for the trip into suitcases and called for a car and ferryboat. On the table, he noticed the drawing he’d done of Erin when everybody else was sketching trees. How much he’d enjoyed putting her likeness down on paper, the curve of her jaw, every strand of her shiny hair. But he wouldn’t take it back to Tokyo with him. He’d leave his drawing, along with the love he felt for her, here in the States. As it had always been. Tucked away. Where it belonged.

  Grabbing a piece of the lodge’s stationery, he dashed off a short note. And folded it, plus the drawing, into an envelope. He exited his cabin, went to Erin’s room and slipped it under the door, figuring she was still at the brunch. Then, making sure not to be seen, he walked out the lobby doors and slid into a limo. Just as he had slid out of one a few days before.