Tokyo Love (3 page)

Yuriko suddenly wondered if something she said to Kathleen had prompted her to pick up the slack on this problem. She felt a mixture of guilt and satisfaction at the thought.

She hadn't been very impressed by the head of the Product Development team. She had known that a foreigner had been brought in three months ago to take over for Osada Renjiro. But she'd had a vague vision that they would be like Osada, a CEO type with too much confidence and too little talent. Of course, that was why Osada had been taken from the project.

Kathleen was … pathetic.

Well, she had seemed that way to Yuriko. She had been screaming at a HELP kiosk like a madwoman, then turned to Yuriko like she had just given up all hope in her life.

It was hard to describe why some foreigners seemed to take up so much space. Kathleen was certainly curvier than the normal Japanese woman; her breasts and hips seemed barely contained in business casual clothing. Kathleen had curly reddish-brown hair, the sort of hair that would break any comb or brush that tried to tame it. She had tied it back into something that looked like a literal knot, loose curls haloing around her face and neck. Her eyes were wide, a warm brown, with a prominent nose and full lips.

Nothing about her appearance was demure. In fact, she seemed barely contained. In the train she had leaned against Yuriko in the crush off the commute. Her body had been heavy and warm.

Yuriko didn't deny that she was attracted to the female figure. And Kathleen was a lot more “figure” than Yuriko was used to encountering.

Then Kathleen had opened her mouth.

She was overeager and a little too desperate for conversation and connection to Yuriko. This woman had been living in Japan for three months, yet she acted like the freshest of tourists: too loud, and with too much presence.

It probably hadn't helped that she was directly responsible for Yuriko's problems that day.

But, watching the PLC with its perfected movement, not a warning error or troubling mechanical failure in sight, Yuriko wondered if maybe there was just a little more to Kathleen than a hopeless foreigner.

Kathleen had heard rumors that in Beijing office workers got to take a nap in the middle of the day. At the designated time, it was perfectly acceptable to take out pillows and sleep at the desk.

Kathleen didn't have the time to sleep—she had about ten incoming reports and at least three proposals to write—but she would have been very grateful to rest her head on a soft pillow while she scrolled through her three thousand emails.

“Director?”

She looked up. “Fukusawa-
san
?” One of her subordinates. Hopelessly polite and terribly efficient. He was sort of her secretary, keeping track of all the tasks she was forced to delegate. But even though a portion of his day was spent running around the office for her, he had all the same skills as she did.

He was a practical genius when it came to computer software. In fact, when she first met him and realized that he would answer to her, she wondered why he hadn't been promoted. Sometimes she still did. But she guessed what she possessed, and Fukusawa lacked, was creativity. Give Fukusawa any task and he would complete it efficiently. But he was incapable of creating his own tasks or finding those rough edges in the code. Those little opportunities for reimagining were beyond him.

Though, it seemed to Kathleen, every time she tried to bring up a new opportunity for innovation, her superiors spent all their time just trying to find its weaknesses. Life used to be so simple before she had to think about personnel management, deadlines, and budget evaluations.

Fukusawa stepped forward, handing her a pad. “Tamura-
san
requires you. It's about the PLC 10.6 beta.”

Kathleen stood up, taking the pad and flipping through the files Fukusawa had brought up for her. She bit her lip, feeling the blood drain from her face. “
Shit
.”

“Excuse me, Director?”

Kathleen waved him aside. “Nothing, sorry. Can you text me whenever Sugiyama-
san
's report is finished? This might take a while.”

“Of course.”

Kathleen swept from the office, scanning the pad on her way down the hall.
Preliminary evaluations completed … proceed ahead of proposed schedule … begin 10.6 beta tests …
She looked from the pad as she opened the door to Tamura's office. Tamura was the Assistant Vice President to the entire company. She wasn't technically Kathleen's direct supervisor, but since her office was so close to the PLC development project that Kathleen was currently running, she tended to weigh in on important decisions. Like this obviously ill advised one.

Tamura's secretary looked up at Kathleen. She was a pretty, thin woman with black hair that shimmered purple and blue in the light from the window behind her. The trend in shimmer colors had recently gotten popular, since, at first glance, it made most people's hair look a natural black. Kathleen knew that if she were to try it, it would probably turn her reddish brown hair into an ugly grey or green in the sunlight. Natural redheads did not agree with most color pigmentation.

The secretary smiled. “Schmitt-
san
.” Her accent was very thick and she couldn't quite get her tongue around Kathleen's name. It sounded more like ‘Shu-mi-tsu.' “Assistant Vice President Tamura-
san
will see you now.”

Tamura's office door opened automatically and Kathleen attempted not to storm inside. The office was lavish compared to Kathleen's. Kathleen had been impressed, upon moving to Japan, that she got her own fancy workspace with large windows and a desk all to herself. But Tamura's was about three times in size, with lush oak furniture and soft carpeting. Kathleen was pretty sure she was served lunch on a silver dolly. She also guessed that the other door in her office led to a private bathroom.

Tamura's appearance was a typical businesswoman. Her no-nonsense hairstyle was pulled into a sharp bun, and probably hair-sprayed into submission. She always wore suits with pointed shoulders and elbows, all black or slate. She wore thick, black glasses and Kathleen could see a newsfeed projecting from the rims. When Kathleen stepped into the office, Tamura blinked several times to close the feed. She tapped her wrist, bringing up a visual of the document Kathleen had just been skimming to rest on her desk.

“Always so prompt, Kathleen,” Tamura commented, smiling. She had a slight accent, but her English was perfect. She, of course, did much of her business with foreigners and had gotten used to informality in the work place. Not that she had ever invited Kathleen to use her first name, but that was probably because they worked for the same company.

“This is a joke, Tamura-
san
.”

Tamura arched a brow, tapping at the holo document, making it flicker. “I'd thought you'd be excited.”

“Beta-ing wasn't supposed to being for another
six months
.” Kathleen held up the pad. “This says by
next week
candidates will be screened! Just last week I was given an urgent text that the cortex readers wouldn't be running until next month. And we haven't even gone over the mainframe failures from Tuesday!”

Tamura leaned back, her black eyes sharp as they assessed Kathleen. “The schedule has been shifted. PR has come back that Lian-Yeh has already started the beta for their companion product.”

Kathleen really wanted to shout, “I don't care about China!” Instead she said, “We aren't ready.”

Tamura tapped her glasses, blinking through her emails. “Medical has assured me that the cortex readers will be ready by next week. We won't be able to screen as many applicants, which is why we have decided to choose a very particular few with the skill sets required to properly assess a product that will, obviously, be a little rushed through production.”

“A
little
rushed? If we send out the product now, it's bound to have numerous problems. Crashing, coding failure, mechanical failure.” Kathleen knew it would be better to have Lian-Yeh have six months on Mashida than to put out such a faulty product.

Tamura frowned, all forced politeness gone from her features. She rested her hands on her desk, long nails tense on the wood. “Mashida is the world's leader in love simulation technology. We are the pinnacle of innovation in the field of AI and robotics. Ms. Kathleen Schmitt, you were brought here three months ago to jumpstart our most exciting product to date. So you
will
make sure it is ready by next week and you
will
be very careful in choosing our beta testers for this exciting opportunity.”

Kathleen took a step back. She shouldn't argue with one of the higher people in the corporation. But she had a feeling Tamura didn't care about the product Kathleen had poured her soul and stress into for the past three months. Tamura just cared about numbers, which China was apparently beating. So Kathleen took a deep breath. “We need to come to a compromise.”

“Compromise?”

“The product isn't ready for beta. Not to the general public. But let me choose some people in the company, one or two that know this product. They can test it outside the lab and send back reports. It would be incredibly helpful data and unlikely to damage our reputation. In fact, it could speed our progress so that we could put out an even better beta than intended.”

“Give me a timetable.” Tamura was already pulling up a new document, quickly writing notes with one sharp nail.

Kathleen, feeling a little overwhelmed, attempted to run numbers. “Okay, so we choose a tester by next Monday, give them two months—”

“Four weeks, maximum.”

Kathleen grit her teeth. “All right, four weeks. If they send weekly detailed reports.”

“Daily.”

“
Daily
reports. Then we can simultaneously develop the real beta in … oh, probably two months?”

Tamura looked up at her, eyes still unrelenting. “You have six weeks. That is my final offer. You will take charge of this pre-test and I will cover with PR.”

Kathleen's head was swimming.
God, six weeks.
At least it wasn't next week.
“Okay, I'll find someone to test—”

“No, you will perform the pre-testing.”

It took Kathleen a moment to register what she meant. “Wait, no. I will find a suitable tester. Possibly Fukusawa-san.” She threw out the name. “I know his work ethic. He would be a very good candidate for … ” She trailed off.

Tamura was ignoring her. She finished writing her note and tapped the edge of the document, storing it. She stood up, the polite fake smile back in place. “No, Kathleen. If you insist that this product isn't ready, then you will be personally responsible to make sure it is within my graciously extended deadline. Please make an appointment with Medical by Monday so the prototype can be fashioned for you by Wednesday.” Her eyes glimmered. “I expect your first report to be forwarded to my secretary by Thursday.”

Tamura had to be punishing her. She was probably pissed that Kathleen was just about the only subordinate that dared to speak against her. Kathleen knew her other Japanese coworkers could be stubborn. But they tended to have that silent, passive-aggressive attitude. Kathleen was anything but passive, was probably why most of her review meetings had ended up being sort of a disaster.

At least they hadn't fired her yet.

Before Kathleen came abroad, the PLC project had been falling way behind schedule. When she arrived three months ago, the beta stage had been slated for two years away. She thought they had been impressed with her six-month improvement. She had slaved away for that result. Countless nights bringing code up to par, arguing with and Engineering. During that time, if Kathleen wasn't in her apartment sleeping, she was at work.

Kathleen pressed her thumb against the lock, and her door snapped open. Despite the modern lock, it was an old metal door, heavy and loud whenever it opened or closed. She leaned against it, stepping into her apartment and kicking off her shoes at the entry. It felt way too good to feel the hardwood floor through her stockings. She only took enough time to grab a can of beer from the fridge before she practically skated over to the low table, falling to her knees beside it.

 Living in the company housing meant she hadn't needed to buy furniture. But it also meant that everything was a little more Japanese than she was used to. Her table, which she kind of always thought of as a coffee table even though it was probably closer to a dinner table, was low to the ground. She'd been given flat cushions to sit on, but even after so long, she still wasn't quite used to eating and working on the floor. She had a TV, which she barely used, considering she couldn't even properly pronounce the few words she knew in Japanese. She would kill for a couch.

Her kitchenette was only separated by a counter, but at least it was sizable with a fridge, oven, and four burners. She was grateful to have a separate bedroom with a proper “western” style bed. She probably would have cried in that first week if she had to both eat on the floor and sleep on a
futon
. She also had a small bathroom with a separate room for the toilet. She'd even gotten something of a crazy deep tub, though it wasn't long enough for her to stretch out. She knew Japanese people tended to soak in bathtubs, but Kathleen only knew how to work the shower.

She leaned heavily against the table, pressing the cold can of beer to her cheek. It was cheap Japanese beer, but it was tolerable. And on nights like this she needed it. Her back and legs ached from sitting at her desk for the rest of the day, desperately trying to make a format for the reports she would soon be filing. She pulled her computer from her bag.

It was only a small black cube with a power button and some access ports. It was surprisingly heavy for its size, simple, and a little outdated compared to newer models. But Kathleen had been using it since she was a programmer in America. Mashida would provide her with an upgrade, but Kathleen wasn't quite ready to get rid of the device that had started her career. She placed it in front of her, tapping it so her screen and keyboard displayed before her as holos.