Tempting the Billionaire Page 9

  “How are you holding up?” Jemma asked him quietly, as if she could read his mind. Somehow she always seemed to know, seemed to understand. She set down her own chopsticks and sat back on her heels sedately.

  “I think perhaps we all need some time alone,” his mother advised. “Jemma, I hate to leave you but I feel I am poor company at this time. I want to meditate and pray.”

  “Of course.”

  Jemma pulled out her cellphone from her obi. He was surprised she had it tucked inside, hidden away. Aaron watched as she deftly texted someone and looked up at him with a sad, knowing smile.

  “I really appreciate you and your mother offering to have me stay here at the hotel, but I think its best that you two be alone for a bit. You’ve both got things to talk about, go through – and you both need to heal. This has been a shock to you as a family. Edo will be here in fifteen minutes to take me back into Kyoto instead of picking up my things.”

  “You don’t have to go,” he said quickly in protest.

  “I’m not leaving Japan yet,” she replied softly and placed her smooth hand on top of his. “I’ve got quite a bit of things to see here, papers to sign, and a friend to reconnect with. Rest and take your time to grieve, Aaron. This can all wait. I promise.”

  Neither said a thing for several moments. Margaret finally got up and stepped away from the table without a word, retreating into another room. It wasn’t long before he heard the faint sounds of weeping through the thin doors. Jemma’s own eyes began to water.

  “Go. She needs you right now,” she urged him softly. Her blue eyes glistened like diamonds as tears collected on her dark lashes. “Edo will take me back to the hotel and we can talk later.”

  “I’m afraid if you leave that it will be another twenty years…” he confessed, the words tearing from his very soul. He hesitated because he knew she was right but everything in his heart fought her words. He felt so torn. He and his mother were both aching with loss and was grasping at anything right now to keep his own soul from crumbling.

  “It won’t be, Aaron. I promise. Besides, you have my phone number now – so call me if you need to talk, but I know deep in my heart that you need to be here for your mother right now.”

  “I know.”

  Jemma got to her feet and headed towards the front door. He got to his feet and stood there silently watching her go. His body ached to run after her, knowing that she could leave Japan at a moment’s notice. She was independent, grown, and full of confidence – something that utterly attracted him. He wanted her to look back at him, to turn to him and tell him everything was going to be alright between them… but she didn’t.

  A faint knock was heard at the front door and she opened it easily, smiling at the driver. Finally, she turned to look at him and nodded, a silent urging for him to take care of what needed to be done.

  “I’ll be in Kyoto when you are ready.”

  Chapter 13

  Jemma rode back to the hotel in silence and collapsed in her hotel room completely and emotionally drained. She couldn’t begin to imagine how Aaron and his mother felt right now. Her mind was swirling with doubts and fears at what possible effects could come from meeting Aaron in person. What if they tried this whole friendship thing and it blew up in their faces?

  This was her livelihood and income.

  This was her best friend, her silent support structure.

  Knowing there were so many things that could go wrong, even considering trying to develop more of a relationship with Aaron felt like Russian Roulette… and she was spinning the wheel happily like a merry-go-round. The nagging voice in her head kept cautioning her – and her heart kept telling her to give it a shot.

  It was the little things that Aaron did, the way he said her name or simply clasped her hand, that made her wish for more. She was curious what ‘more’ would entail- what it could mean for them.

  Laying there in bed, she stared out of the hotel room at the bright lights of the city. Kyoto was simply gorgeous in an exotic neon mish-mash of buildings. According to Edo, this part of the city was filled with shops of every kind, from electronics to kawaii costumes and wigs. Tomorrow she planned to spend the day simply walking around to clear her mind, perusing all the boutiques and picking up some souvenirs to bring back with her. That would keep her occupied and give the Ichiyos space.

  Sleeping hard that night, Jemma had the most bittersweet, breathtaking dream. She imagined that she was chatting on the computer when suddenly a hand extended from the screen. Touching the fingertips, she was pulled into another realm. Looking down, she saw that she was in the bright purple kimono and surrounded by mists. As she heard the birds and saw the green fields near her, she knew deep in her heart she was in Japan. Suddenly, it grew dark and the once magical fog grew terrifying. She was lost, frightened and alone in a country, a world, she didn’t know.

  Out of the darkness a monstrous face appeared, a Yokai mask. She knew the Yokai were masks to represent the mysterious and supernatural of Japanese folklore from the anime cartoons she watched. They were supposed to be bewitching or mischievous; some brought harm and others brought good fortune. The mask was removed and she saw Aaron’s face underneath, watching her. Aaron’s expression was cold, causing her to panic.

  Turning to run, she felt her legs couldn’t move and that time was sliding by slowly. She needed to get away, to think, and awoke suddenly- covered in sweat. What did her dream mean? Would he harm her? Was this her mind telling her that growing close to him could bring harm or create mischief in her life… or was it a sign of good fortune?

  “Good morning Jemma. Shall I order up a traditional Japanese breakfast?” Hermes said brightly. His display flashed a smiling face at her with clock hands for the nose, indicating it was barely eight in the morning.

  “Sure… and coffee, please. Plenty of strong coffee,” she groaned, pulling herself bodily from the heavy blankets and heading to the bathroom. She felt like she had been hit emotionally and physically by a semi-truck. She needed some sort of normalcy and to breathe. The last forty-eight hours had been tough on her between the flight, seeing a wake, a funeral, and meeting Achoo/Aaron for the first time.

  “Hermes?” she called out lightly, turning on the water. “Can you please text Edo and let him know to pick me up in an hour? Ask him to wear comfortable shoes for the day because I will need a guide.”

  “Of course, Jemma.”

  Getting her shower, she quickly dressed and wrapped her hair just in time to hear a knock at her hotel room door. Opening it, she saw the tray covered in bowls with small metal lids, as well as two large thermoses in his hands. Obviously having a traditional Japanese breakfast wasn’t having a bowl of Wheaties. Thanking the attendant, she pressed several Yen into his hand and shut the door behind him. Funny how each time she tipped them, they looked at her like she’d just insulted them. She would ask Edo about that today. Looking at the tray, she nervously pulled off the lids and saw the food lying underneath.

  “Hermes, are both of the thermoses coffee?”

  “Of course,” he announced haughtily. “You said plenty and I do listen to you.”

  “You are amazing.”

  “I know.”

  Snickering, she picked up the fork and began to eat what she could identify safely. Lightly chewing the rice and fish, she peered at one of the other bowls and wrinkled her nose at the pungent smell.

  “Hermes, what exactly does a traditional breakfast entail?”

  “Breakfast will consist of several items, including the following: rice, fish, tsukemono, nori, natto, and kobachi.”

  “And exactly what is tsukemono, natto, and kobachi?” she asked, recognizing the nori after a moment. She liked the crunchy seaweed for its salty taste and it was supposed to be really good for you. It wasn’t something she had often at all, but the other dishes looked… odd. One of them looked like pickles- for breakfast.

  “Tsukemono is a type of Japanese pickle common in this area,” Hermes spou
ted out as she poked at them lightly with her fork. “Natto is a fermented soy bean that is typically served over rice and seasoned with soy sauce and katsuobushi. It’s a staple characterized with a strong aroma and slimy texture. Kobachi are simply vegetables that are steamed. Are these not recognizable, Jemma?”

  Using her fork, she moved one of the large leaves that lay across the top of the small bowl and noticed that it was indeed vegetables. The leaf looked like a large wrinkly stalk that had withered. Putting it in her mouth bravely, she bit down and realized that it tasted like celery or kale.

  Poking at the natto, Jemma shivered in disgust. She picked up a soybean but when she pulled it out of the bowl, several strands of slime stretched from the bean to the rest of the gelatinous mass, making her shake it off her fork quickly. This was one dish she was going to pass up and leave uneaten. Grabbing her napkin, she rubbed any trace off the end of her fork and went back to eating what she knew: the rice and fish.

  Edo showed up not long after she was finished eating. Jemma easily braided her hair and headed out the door quickly behind the driver. Chatting amiably, she was happy to feel like she’d made a friend there in him. She was a little dismayed to find out that tipping people was frowned on. People here did not tip because they simply did what was asked of them. To tip someone was considered an insult. Edo seemed to have taken her under his wing, indulging her by accompanying her everywhere she went. As they drove, she was highly disappointed to see him pull up to a shopping mall, recognizing several department store names.

  “Edo, I have a favor to ask,” she began tentatively. “We have Louis Vuitton and other stores like this at home. Can we go somewhere that the locals go?”

  “Of course,” he said with an approving nod, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Any preference on where?”

  “Let’s go where you or your family would go. In fact, do you want your wife to join us? I’d be happy to have the company,” she offered easily with a smile. He pressed a button and Jemma heard a flurry of words spoken in Japanese, recognizing her name. She hoped everything he said was good and felt a moment’s hesitation, but then he hung up and smiled at her.

  “Thank you,” Edo said gratefully. “It’s not often I get to spend my work day with my wife and son. They will meet us at the Higashiyama District mall.”

  “Wonderful!”

  It took a bit to get there with traffic, but when they arrived – Jemma knew she’d made the right decision suggesting Edo’s family join them. His wife was wonderful and tried desperately to speak English several times, getting help from her husband. They were such a cute couple and their son was quite the inquisitive toddler, grabbing everything within reach. The Higashiyama District was incredible and just what she was looking for. The buildings were old, yet the streets were bustling with cafés, restaurants, pottery shops, and clothing merchants.

  Jemma was stunned at the Kiyomizuyaki pottery. She thought it was a very fine, delicate porcelain, only to find out it was stoneware. It was glazed in a manner that made it look like it was enameled or lacquered. She bought herself a set of tea cups that instantly won her heart. They were a bluish- green color that had a crackle to the glazing. It made her think of a still pool that had been disturbed by the current. She waited patiently as they wrapped them carefully in paper, boxing them up for her.

  As they continued walking down the small streets, she was entranced by the colorful cloths, fans, and umbrellas everywhere. Stopping at a cart, she bought herself a set of chopsticks that did actually fit her hand. If she ate with Aaron and his mother again, she wasn’t going to stick out like a sore thumb, but rather whip out her own pair of chopsticks. The ones back home she was quite adept at using, but the enameled ones were quite slick. She settled on a pair that she was able to move deftly and immediately bought them for herself.

  She also splurged and bought a gift for Aaron, feeling herself blush as she had Edo help her identify his surname among the Inkan stamps along the wall. They were tiny cylinders that were used to mark or seal items. She thought about asking them to make one that said Hastings but decided against it.

  Giggling, she saw several stores sold plastic foods and was shocked at how expensive they could be. Plastic foods were a huge thing here. You could get fake sushi, noodles, soups and plastic desserts- in fact, almost anything that could be eaten… could be purchased in plastic!

  Edo’s wife, Aiko, immediately drug her into a nearby store – chatting quickly to her husband. Once inside, she saw that several women were trying on different combs, clips, and hairpins. She watched as Aiko immediately selected one, putting the pick through her bun, causing the silk flowers to cascade down the side of her head in decoration.

  “Pretty, yes?”

  “Very pretty,” Jemma agreed, selecting one for herself. Aiko had a large floral concoction. Jemma picked a smaller one that fit her tastes a bit more. She didn’t have her hair in a bun like Aiko did, but holding it up, she saw that the blue in the silk matched her eyes and immediately bought both combs. Aiko gave up the pink comb to the attendant, to which Jemma immediately shook her head no.

  “For you.”

  Aiko shook her head no and began speaking quickly. Jemma grinned and pulled the elastic from her braid, unfurling it quickly. The attendant who didn’t speak English suddenly understood and grabbed a hairbrush. Aiko immediately helped the other lady begin to fashion Jemma’s hair in a loose bun. Aiko picked up the pink flower comb and Jemma shook her head quickly.

  “Me,” she said pointing at the blue flowered one instead. Edo took that moment to enter the store as she was trying to explain to the two women the idea of the gift.

  “Is everything alright?”

  “I’m trying to give your wife a present and she keeps giving it back to me,” Jemma said quickly, laughing. “I like the blue one and they keep trying to put the pink floral one on me. It looks beautiful on Aiko and I want to give it to her for spending the day with me.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “But I want to,” Jemma said sincerely. “You both have been so wonderful to me and I would like to continue our friendship when I head back to America.”

  Edo smiled, nodding, and spoke to his wife. Aiko immediately looked from her husband to Jemma, nodding as she smiled softly as she finally understood what Jemma was trying to say.

  “Arigato Jemma, tomodachi.”

  “She is calling you her friend,” Edo translated immediately.

  “Tomodachi,” Jemma repeated, placing the pink flower pick into her new friend’s dark black hair, hugging her. The blue pick was placed into Jemma’s hair and she quickly held up her phone, taking a photo of her and Aiko together. She felt strange with her hair put up in the elaborate fashion, pulled away from her face but looking at some of the other women around her… she fit in.

  She kept her phone out from there on, taking photos of the buildings and colorful sights around her. The rest of the afternoon was spent walking around, taking breaks so they could change Kaito’s diaper or have a meal all together. She ordered things that seemed safe to her but found herself exchanging with Edo and Aiko so that she had a chance to sample other things too.

  Jemma prompted Aiko to teach her a few words here and there, so she didn’t feel quite so lost when she was trying to listen to others. She picked up quickly knife, fork, spoon, food, bathroom and some other words that might be necessary… but conjugating a sentence was another thing completely.

  She wondered what Aaron was doing and how he was handling things with his mother. She knew that it must be a hard time for them both. It suddenly struck her with an idea, something that was truly American.

  “Edo, I have a favor to ask and I need both of your help to do it.”

  Chapter 14

  Aaron felt broken and numb on the inside. He was in pain and didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d kept it together for a while, but now that he was alone it was like the walls could finally come down. He’d cried
more than he ever thought he could, feeling regret for pushing back or arguing with his father for as long as he had. His mother spent hours on end, praying on the deck that overlooked the hot spring pool. At least she wasn’t bitterly weeping now but trying to find a peace in her soul to get her through this time. He wasn’t there yet. His own soul felt as turbulent as the waves nearby.

  He’d taken the small boardwalk from the house out past the dunes. He stood there a good distance from the house, looking out on the ocean out behind the hotel, and searching for answers. He felt lost and needed something, anything, to make him feel like he could get through this alright. The ocean breeze was blowing and the sand was cool beneath his feet. This wasn’t the peace, warmth, tranquility of his home, but rather it matched the ragged, raw essence of what he was feeling on the inside.

  The sun was setting soon and he knew he would be standing alone out here as darkness swallowed the sky. That about mimicked how he felt, like the light was being sucked from his very world. He was chilled in the t-shirt and slacks but it didn’t have as much to do with the temperatures; rather he felt adrift.

  Alone.

  “Aaron?”

  Turning, he saw Jemma walking down the beach towards him, holding a small throw. He hadn’t heard her walking down the old wooden boardwalk that usually made hollow stomping sounds as people walked on it. He’d mentioned to his father years ago that they needed to update it and he’d declined. That had been yet another argument between them… over nothing.

  “Your mother said you were out here and that you might be chilly,” she offered quietly, putting the throw around his shoulders as he stood there. He should be thrilled that Jemma was here, but instead, he felt his emotions heave once again inside of him as he stared at her beautiful, kind, expressive eyes.