Tempting the Billionaire Read online

  “He just read the screen.”

  “Tell him that is still very, very creepy.”

  Chapter 8

  March 2019

  Jemma felt like everything was right in the world and relieved that she was going to be able to take a vacation without feeling too terribly guilty about it. Technically she would still be working, but in reality – she was going to explore Japan as much as possible. She’d received an email from Achoo and quickly replied back happily.

  Hey Achoo,

  Yes- it’s been a while and things have been really hectic for me too. My marketing company is doing phenomenal, so much so that I have scheduled myself some down time. I am going out of town for about a week and will be away from my keyboard (maybe). Actually, I will probably take my laptop with me. I’m going to download a few travel books and do the touristy thing, if I have time. Do you ever get on social media? I know we said no names, no pictures, etc. – but I am super excited about this trip and want to share photos with you.

  So, here is me… putting myself out there to my friend. I said I would never do this but it’s been years. My cell number is at the bottom of the message so I can text you some photos – and if you are some freaking-creepy-stalker-nerd… just know this: I will have my number changed in two seconds flat, buddy. I’m really weirded out to be giving you my number- but the need to share with my bestie is overriding any common sense I have. I mean it, don’t call me!

  No names, no other stuff, okay?

  Baby steps!

  Text me.

  JemC1995

  Re-reading the email, she went ahead and clicked send. She hoped he understood just how far out there she was extending herself. She was an extremely private person and tried to stay away from weirdos – part of the reason she had disabled her dating profile. She didn’t have time for the drama and clinginess that seemed to come with having a relationship nowadays. She should have dated in high school and got it out of her system instead of feeling like she’d missed out on something vital.

  Now, Jemma just chalked it up to her hormones and baby-maker-clock ticking internally. She didn’t really care for a relationship because she was happy, but her body wouldn’t let her forget that if she wanted a family… there would need to be ‘a someone’ involved in her life. She had her own family now, but someday – she would be alone in the world, and that didn’t set well at all with her. Pulling out her cell phone, Jemma called her mother excitedly.

  “Mom, guess what?”

  “What sweetie?”

  “I’m going to Japan for a business trip.”

  “You aren’t going to meet up with that young man you know– are you?”

  “Oh heck no. He doesn’t know I’m going there – that would be just weird, okay? I mean, we are friends online… but that’s it. Mom, please don’t worry- I’m smart and will be okay.”

  “So, you are flying out for work?”

  “Yes – and I can’t wait. I already downloaded a few travel guides on my iPad to read on the flight over. I’ve never been to another country, Mom. I’ve had my passport ready to go for years and always thought about it – but never went.” Jemma was beyond excited and already researching where to tour near her hotel location. The idea of visiting Japan was introducing her to new anime stories, seeing new foods to try, and looking up how to keep from being construed as rude. Apparently when you visited a home there, everyone brought a gift. She wasn’t planning on visiting anyone, but rather meeting at the office of A.I. Perhaps she would bring a gift regardless to put herself into the C.E.O.’s good graces? It couldn’t hurt things to be overly polite.

  “Be sure to keep your father and I posted on where you’re at all times, honey. You know we worry about you.” This was an understatement if Jemma had ever heard one. Since her accident, her parents were really bothered that she was okay at being alone all the time. She wasn’t okay, but it didn’t help things to let them know she was lonely. It would only add to their initial thoughts regarding her as she was growing up… Jemma didn’t fit in.

  Her mother had coached her repeatedly over the years to ‘behave correctly’ or ‘mind how people see you’- she represented the image for her company and kept her real self behind closed doors. Only Achoo knew what she really thought or was like – and he hadn’t abandoned her yet.

  “I know. I’ll be careful. The company that hired me has arranged everything. They are sending a jet and set up the hotel.”

  “Can you email us the information so we have it?” Jemma kept from sighing heavily at the feeling of being smothered. She was a grown woman, not a ten-year-old girl. Part of her was glad she was traveling so spontaneously to Japan so she could tour it alone. If given enough time, her parents would have probably bought tickets to visit the country too.

  “O’course, mom. I love you.”

  “Love you too, sweetie.”

  “Bye.”

  Hanging up her cell phone, she saw Hermes sitting there expectantly and groaned aloud. The little green lights indicating he was online and available were lit up expectantly.

  “You heard all of that- didn’t you?”

  “I don’t miss a beat, Jemma.”

  “So I noticed,” she quipped and rolled her eyes.

  It was definitely eye-opening to know that something was taking down every word spoken aloud. She would have to mind her P’s and Q’s in front of the little machine to make sure nothing was relayed that wasn’t supposed to be.

  “Is Mr. Ichiyo still reading the text transcript?”

  “No. My screen shows that he is currently offline. He logged out eleven minutes and fifty-eight seconds ago. Last line read is ‘Tell him that is still very, very creepy’.”

  “Great. Thanks, Hermes.”

  “You are very welcome, Jemma.”

  The next several days flew by as Jemma quickly packed and prepared to travel to Japan. As she researched, she found that the country was split into prefectures, instead of counties or states, and A. I. was based out of the Kyoto prefecture. Apparently Kyoto was one of the most beautiful areas of the country as it was dotted with shrines, bamboo forests, and an abundance of hot springs that were available to soak in.

  People still regularly indulged in bathing in the hot springs and there were quite specific rules to using them. You had to be completely as God intended you – that meant you got in the hot spring, with others, in your birthday suit. This also meant that Jemma was completely out on this particular cultural experience.

  There are specific towels to use, as well as you had to shower before you entered the onsen. People with tattoos couldn’t use the onsen, it was considered a sign you were part of the Japanese mafia… so if you had one, people distanced themselves from you. Good thing she wasn’t marked – but she still wasn’t bathing nude in front of others!

  Another thing she learned was that Hermes had a comment for every single thing! She’d order a coke and he would tout off how much sugar or caffeine it contained. If she was on the phone, he would join in the conversation, making it difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. It was like having a little parrot or inquisitive child nearby. She also had to be careful what she said because he was recording everything – and Mr. Ichiyo could be reading the transcriptions at any time. She found herself asking repeatedly if he’d logged in to check on her again and again.

  On the flip side, she genuinely liked Hermes. He was fun to chat with and Jemma noticed that since she’d received the package – she hadn’t felt so lonely. He would talk to her about the day’s current events as she was making dinner or he would ask her about her day. It was like having a blind, live-in friend that didn’t eat your favorite ice cream or use your hairbrush.

  Jemma had received a text message from Achoo late during the night due to the time difference. It was simple and unassuming, simply saying “It’s Achoo” in the text. She saved the phone number to her cell and texted a smiley face back. The smile was dumb, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong
idea. When she meant that she was putting herself out there by giving him her phone number… she really, really meant it. She never gave her number out anymore and had two different phones – one for work and one for personal.

  Her heart had beat hard in her chest when her personal phone had gone off during the early morning hours and she saw the phone number. She had likened her anxious pulse to anxiety and fear – pushing back the idea of excitement. She was incredibly afraid of Achoo being a real guy, with real feelings… and truly terrified to be disappointed with reality.

  Chapter 9

  March 2019

  Aaron was a bundle of nerves and kept worrying about his friend. He had no idea where JemC was going, nor if she was traveling with someone. He would just have to be patient and see if she texted photos of herself with a guy. He knew it was silly for him to feel the excitement he felt at having JemC1995’s phone number, but he felt that now he had a tether to her if he needed something. She’d always been there before when he needed something, and part of him considered texting about how nervous he was about hosting an important guest for his company.

  He’d turned everything over to his secretary on the second day because his stomach was an absolute mess. His father always had such a stoic, steadfast personality, so he assumed he got his anxiousness from his mother. Anytime he had to deal with conflict or stress – it utterly destroyed his stomach. He’d actually considered going to see a doctor, but didn’t have time to deal with the thought that he might have an ulcer. Instead, he focused on homeopathic things that he readily had access too. Finding his balance, like his mother had said, was one of the first things he’d conquered and it seemed to help. He sipped on mint or ginger tea and ate mild food in order to keep things easy. He was under a lot of pressure lately – a lot of it self-induced.

  Heading out of the office for the day, Aaron grabbed the train that headed to Amanohashidate. He had decided to take time for himself this evening and see if he could relax a bit. Maybe a simple broth or some bland rice buns would help settle things down. Perhaps he was just making too much out of the whole thing with JemC1995 and needed to stick with the facts.

  He was here, she was on the other side of the world.

  JemC wanted someone to chat with- but didn’t want to share personal information- so there was absolutely no relationship to even grow or build upon. It was simply an anonymous person chatting with another faceless person online. The problem was… he hadn’t found anyone else that he wanted to talk to more than his best friend online.

  Walking from the train station down the main road, he marveled again at how beautiful and old-fashioned a town could be. There were years of history in these buildings and if he concentrated, he could picture in his mind what it must have been like a hundred, or two hundred, years ago. Things moved slower in town and life was less stressful. Stepping into the house, he pulled off his shoes and flexed his feet appreciatively. It was the little things that made you feel like you were home. Walking through the entryway, he noticed that the house was suspiciously absent.

  “Mother? Father?”

  Absolute silence greeted him and his heart started to hammer in his chest. That was very unusual for his home. His mother was usually always present if his father stepped out. They had to be home to tend to guests of the hotel, which varied from a single guest to a full house. Sliding open the doors, he was searching for anyone at this point. He sprinted down the walkway outside of the building towards his parents’ room and saw that it was empty as well. Running back through the house and out into the street barefoot – he flagged down a nearby neighbor.

  “Have you seen my parents?”

  “Yes, they went to the hospital about twenty minutes ago.”

  “Ugghhh…” Aaron groaned, feeling a surge of nausea well up in his stomach as his body rebelled at the rush of fear that raced through him. “Are they alright?”

  “I think your father took ill.”

  This time – Aaron did get sick, right there in the middle of the busy cobblestone street.

  Hours later, he was sitting in the hospital waiting area next to his mother. Nothing seemed to focus in his mind as he sat there processing what bits he had. His mind was a waterfall of thoughts and he was trying to catch everything with a teacup. His mother was beyond exhausted and he could see the rings of fatigue under her eyes. Laying his hand on her head, he encouraged his mother to rest her head on his shoulder and get some sleep.

  There was nothing Aaron could do now but be here for her. The rest would come eventually and fall into place. The doctors had given her a sedative to calm down her screaming and crying. His father had slipped away not long after he arrived at the hospital barefoot. He was able to hold his father’s hand and say his goodbyes as the spark disappeared from his eyes. Aaron promised to look after his mother and would keep that vow – starting now.

  The idea of being the responsible one for his family weighed heavily on his shoulders and his heart. What was he going to do? He already had so many things that he wanted to build and create with A.I. that he always assumed there would be time to learn the business or take over the hotel later on… only that time was now. He was terrified of letting his family name down, letting his mother down, that he didn’t know where to start. He wanted to reach out to JemC, but first he needed to get his mother home, sign for his father’s body and make the funeral arrangements. Something he never dreamt he would be in charge of.

  Jemma was resting on the luxurious plane. A.I. had spared no expense, sending a small jet to her location. She’d never flown in a plane that had carpeted floors, wood trim, or an entertainment center built into the wall between the galley and the cabin of the plane. Her plush leather seat was completely reclined into almost a prone position and the stewardess had given her several soft fleece blankets to make her comfortable and cozy for the long trip.

  Hermes was quietly reading off the news to her, lulling her to sleep… when she heard something that made her rub her bleary eyes and pay attention. As he continued to talk, she sat up immediately in alarm.

  “Repeat that Hermes,” she ordered and saw the stewardess look around the corner, meeting Jemma’s eyes. She was no longer asleep but wide awake as she listened in utter shock.

  Aaron Ichiyo, CEO of A.I. Enterprises, has reportedly retreated into the village of Amanohashidate in order to begin funeral arrangements for his father, Akhiro Ichiyo, who passed away this afternoon. No details have been released to the public, but sources closest to the family say that the billionaire will probably choose to lay his father to rest in the traditional manner, as he lived. Ichiyo was seventy-two and was a pillar of the community, maintaining the grounds and shrines near his home. He leaves behind his wife, Margaret, age sixty-eight, and his only son, Aaron, age forty-one.

  Ichiyo… Jemma repeated silently, her mind racing. At first it sounded like Hermes had sneezed, but she knew that wasn’t possible. Aaron Ichiyo, CEO of A.I. Enterprises – Aaron… Achoo? The chat screen from long ago flashed through her mind’s eye when she’d first met Achoo – teasing him about his user name, followed quickly by the thought of him revealing his first name was Aaron. She’d gotten so upset that day at him, so long ago. He’d told her that ‘when you pronounced it with the correct dialect it sounded almost like a sneeze. She had been speaking every syllable, making it sound like Eee-chee-yo, not Ichiyo, with the short, stunted pronunciation.

  Achoo.

  Could that be Aaron Ichiyo?

  “Hermes- I need you to tell me all you know about Aaron Ichiyo, please,” Jemma asked the small bot on the nearby seat beside her. Glancing up, she saw that the two stewardesses where quickly whispering to each other in Japanese and looking at her. She was being talked about and it was frankly a little irritating, but who passed up good gossip – right?

  “Aaron Ichiyo is forty-one, single and male. Blood type A-positive. Only son of Akhiro Ichiyo of the Ichiyo clan. The Ichiyo family has inhabited Amanohashidate of the Kyoto prefectu
re since the 1700’s – his mother is Margaret Davis-Ichiyo. Margaret became a citizen of Japan in 1975 before she married Akhiro. Margaret is originally from California.”

  “What is Aaron Ichiyo’s user name or profile name on websites he frequents often?” Jemma was furiously typing in google trying to find a correlation of her theories. She knew deep in her gut that Achoo was Aaron Ichiyo and that terrified her. Never in her right mind had she thought she would meet the person she’d confided to all these years. She’d been blabbing her whole history, thoughts, and dreams for the last twenty years.

  “Searching… searching… searching… my apologies, Jemma. It seems that Mr. Ichiyo has a secure firewall that prevents me from accessing his history on his computer. I can try again if you would like?”

  “No. Thank you.”

  Jemma sat back numbly and was unsure what to do next. Waving at the flight attendant, she ordered a whiskey and a bottle of water. Staring at both, she was just stunned, thinking that if it was Achoo as she guessed… she was flying straight from the frying pan into the fire. If he was an aggressive owner, she had unwillingly given him all the dirt on herself that could be used against her. She’d told him of her failed relationships, her fears, her deepest wishes – and he could use it all. That was not something she could ever do- and didn’t think her friend was capable of it… but he was ultimately a stranger- so who knew? There was no more anonymity any longer – and her friend might need to talk.

  It was time to break an unspoken rule between them.

  Throwing back the whiskey, she made a horrible face and quickly followed the burning fluid with some water. Her chest was burning as the alcohol warmed her from the inside. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed her cell phone. If it was him, her friend would need to talk – and if it wasn’t, she could offer her condolences when she arrived. She debated on texting or calling. Texting was so impersonal and so cold, deciding on the latter. Dialing, she heard it go to voicemail and listened numbly as a man spoke in Japanese. After a few moments, his voice reiterated the same thing – but in perfect English. Jemma nearly dropped the phone in utter shock.