Wayward Dreams (12 page)

His face lit up at the greeting. “
Konnichiwa.
Nihongo ga hanasemasu ka?”

“Hai, hanasemasu,”
she laughed, leaving her hand in his. “Yes, I speak just a little Japanese. It has been years, and goodness knows I don't have many people to practice with here in Atlanta.”

“Still, you speak very well,” he said and grinned. “Cute accent.”

“Oh, you're a charmer.” Julia laughed again. “My accent is only cute with certain words.”

“Then I'll make a suggestion: While Bianca is finishing up, why don't I show you around Kin Kura, and you can use those certain words?”

Standing, Julia said, “I could do that.”

He tucked her hand into the curve of his arm and led her through the showroom and into the restoration studio. Listening to him talk about his business and clientele, she decided Akemi Jordan was indeed a smart man. Walking with him, liking the smooth timbre of his voice, feeling the full force of his masculinity as he guided her through his domain, she decided he was also a very hot man.

She took in the exquisite lines and tailoring of his suit.
Hugo Boss
, she guessed.
What's wrong with him? I know Bianca is not blind.

Julia looked at the hand she still rested against Akemi's arm, then up into appreciative dark almond-shaped eyes, focused on her and nothing else.
He definitely likes women…
Then a red flag went up.
Maybe that's what it is. He's a flirt, a womanizer, a man-whore!

Julia nearly tore her hand away, but he was saying something. “I'm sorry. What were you saying?”

“I asked where you learned to speak the language.” Leading her beyond the shoji screens, he pressed his palm to a wall panel, opening the door to his office. Like her sister, Julia was caught off-guard by the wall-spanning aquarium when she stepped through the door.

Open-mouthed, she stood watching the delicate aqua-ballet before her. Recovering, Julia turned to Akemi. “That is one of the most astounding and impressive accent walls I have ever seen.”

“I find it relaxing and enjoyable,” he said, offering her a chair. She sat, gingerly holding her purse in her lap, with her feet primly flat on the floor. “You never told me where you learned to speak the language.”

He seemed genuinely interested, and as flattering as that was, Julia kept her answer brief and businesslike. “I was an exchange student at the University of Tokyo. For graduate school.”

“Business? At the Nippon Budokan?”

“You know the program?”

He nodded and leaned forward in his chair. “Yes, and I would have given my right arm to have attended. But I didn't quite make the cut; I settled for Oregon State.”

“Not the worst school in the world.”

“True. It's just that the University of Tokyo is…” He spread his hands and smiled. “The University of Tokyo.”

“I learned a lot, and while it wasn't always the most fun I've ever had, it was a significant part of my education.”

“
Wakarimashita,
” he said, his smile twisting slightly. “I understand. It can be difficult adjusting to a new place, new people.”

“A new language, new foods,” she finished for him. “I think I was homesick for about twenty minutes.”

“Resilience runs in your family, I see.”

“Something like that.” Julia felt herself liking him again.
Okay, so maybe not a man-whore. Just a really hot flirt.
“There are some things I really miss about the Japanese experience.”

“But you can find similarities here in Atlanta.” Julia looked dubious. “You can. You have to go all the way to Duluth, but what about the Jeju Spa?” He gave a little moan of pleasure. “It's heaven.”

“Okay, I'll give you that. I'll also give you yakitory and karaoke, but not like you could find in Tokyo.”

“Not like Tokyo,” Akemi agreed, “but good. Satisfying and fun; what more can you ask?”

“I'm not sure, but I wish I could drag my sister out for a little fun.”

“Really? I never thought of her as a homebody.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I've watched her. She's quite attractive, but she seems focused on being sharp and all about business.”

“She's all business, all right,” Julia sighed, making a face. “I just wish I could get her to do something besides work and mope about resurrecting her boutique. She used to be such fun when we were kids, but right now, there's no way I'm going to get Bianca out for yakitory, and I can definitely forget a Soba bar or restaurant.”

“Ditto for my brother. Don't get me wrong, Harry has a lot of good qualities. Heck, because of him, I've always been able to take the easy way out. He's shouldered the Japanese side of our heritage, and let me be me.”

“Sounds like a perfect pain in the butt.”

“I could say the same thing about your sister,” Kemi said, smiling.

“Wouldn't bother me if you did.” Julia sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Where has this perfect brother of yours been?”

“Japan. A significant portion of his accounts are there, our parents have retired there. And did I say that Harry loves his work? Now he's back in Atlanta.”

“Sounds like a workaholic.”

“That's exactly what he is. Now that he's back in Atlanta, he only leaves home to go to work. And he owns the company.”

“Being the boss has its perks.”

“But I can't see him using any of them. He's become a hermit, and it's not natural. He doesn't even do his own shopping anymore—says he doesn't have time. Between student interns, delivery, and his housekeeper, he manages to eat. He buys books and movies online, and entertains himself with twenty-four-hour newscasts—and karaoke.”

“Karaoke? He sings?”

“Every chance he gets.”

“Bianca and I love karaoke; in fact, we had a machine in the basement when we were kids. Man, we grew up doing some mean renditions of the Supremes and Martha Reeves and the Vandellas. Bianca always had to be Diana Ross.” Nostalgia softened her smile.

“Harry and I used to do the Temptations and the Miracles,” Akemi said, moving his hands to imaginary music. “I'd bet money that no one in Atlanta can do a better version of the Four Tops or the Spinners. Can you and your sister say that?”

“Not the guy groups, but when it comes to the girls and duets, I'll bet my sister and I can take you on any day.”

“If you could get her out of the house.”

Julia let her neck move—just a little. “I can, if you can.”

“We could get them together,
omiai
-style. Call them out for a night of karaoke.”

“Wait a minute, isn't
omiai
like a blind date?” Julia asked cautiously. “Yeah, well, that might be okay for your brother, but for my sister—I don't know. Besides, you already know what my sister looks like. I don't know jack about your brother.”

“You actually do.”

Julia's eyebrows rose. “I do? How?”

“This is where I have to make a confession.” Akemi brought his fingers together at his chin. “He lives in your sister's building. He was with me the day we ran into each other. You must have seen him.”

“The day we ran into each other? You ran into me?” Sudden recognition brightened Julia's eyes and she pointed at Akemi. “The elevator…the day Bianca moved in. You were one of the men we ran into getting off the elevator. I knew I recognized you from somewhere; I just couldn't put my finger on it.” She shook her finger at him. “I saw
you
the day you ran into me. There was another man with you, but I don't remember what he looked like.”

“Flattering, but you ran into me and he was there, too.” Akemi pushed a small framed picture across his polished desk top. “That, dear Julia, is my brother, Haru Jordan, better known as Harry.”

Picking up the picture, Julia smiled. “Pretty.”

Akemi couldn't help grinning. “Yeah, I think he's been called that a time or two.”

“Looks like this one went swimming in the deep end of your gene pool.”

“I could say the same thing about your sister.”

“You probably would.” Julia looked up, caught the mischief in Akemi's eyes, then dropped her gaze back to the photo in her hand. The long-legged man in the picture rested against a terraced stone wall, and looked like the hard-bodied bonus player in the game of life. Caramel skin, almond-shaped ebony eyes, stunningly lush lips, and sculpted features that matched and improved on his brother's made Julia's heart flutter.
I could almost keep this one for myself
, she thought.
No, I'm doing this for Bianca, but I swear, if she doesn't want him…

Sneaking another look as she handed the photo back, Julia cleared her throat. “He definitely looks like her type. Please tell me he's not as dumb as a bag of rocks.”

“My brother? No way. One thing Harry has been good at all of his life is being first: first in his class, first-string on any team he ever tried out for, and now he operates a first-class security franchise.”

“So how do you propose we pull this off?”

“
Anzuru yori umu go yasashi.”
Kemi grinned.

“I told you my Japanese was rusty.” Julia frowned. “Help me out.”

“It means that an attempt is sometimes easier than expected. Harry's birthday was a few weeks ago. He liked the samurai sword I got him, but he wouldn't let me drag him out for dinner or drinks.”

“You didn't say he was a monk,” Julia said and frowned again.

“Because he's not. I just didn't think of karaoke. He'll come out for that. This Friday?”

“Friday is good. I'll work on Bianca over lunch. She'll do it for me.”

“She won't find that suspect? You come here, meet me, and then a blind date?”

“You're going to get enough of doubting me, you know that?” Julia said, thinking. “Okay, I'll bring it up, real casual-like; tell her it will be fun, that we can relive a happy bit of our childhood. She'll buy it.”

“And if she doesn't?”

Julia fluttered her lashes. “How about this. I'll tell her I met you while I was waiting for her, that I was completely charmed by you and accepted your offer of a date.”

“If we've come that far, then you'd better call me Kemi,” he said, smiling disarmingly.

“Kemi. Right.” Warming, she reminded herself that she was a grown woman and that she was doing this for her sister. “I'll tell her I want to get to know you without any pressure, and that this karaoke date is a neutral place to start.”

“A very good start. Now where? What's a good place?”

“On a Friday night? How about Dugan's?” Julia looked sly.

“Aren't they known for cold beer and hot buffalo wings?”

“Instead of sushi or anything else one of them might find suspect.”

“Ah, karaoke and matchmaking.
Isseki nichio.”
Kemi brought his palms together, bowed slightly. “One stone, two birds. Clever.”

CHAPTER 8

Bianca ignored the cellphone chirping in her purse. She knew it was Julia without looking. Every call she'd had today had been Julia badgering her about going on a tacky date with her and her new dream man—Akemi Jordan. Then she remembered she'd had one other caller today. KPayne. He'd gotten her check and found it lacking.

“How are you going to try to play me like this? This little piece of change is not enough to keep me in bubblegum, and it's nowhere near what you owe me!”

“Kelvin…”

He was determined not to hear her excuses. Did she think money grew on trees? Did she think he was going to allow her to ignore her obligation to him? Bent on a full-blown tantrum, K-Payne continued his tirade. “My mother was right. She said you were as common as table salt. She said if I wanted to do charity work, I should write a check to the United Way. My father said you were a poor investment. He said…”

Standing in the middle of the Kin Kura showroom with the phone pressed to her ear, Bianca had bitten back the words she wanted to say. Still listening to the venom Payne spewed, she headed for the ladies' room. Glad to find it empty, she pressed her back against a cool tile wall and took a deep breath.

“Bitch, did you hear what I said to you?”

The word was a slap in the face, like being doused with ice water. In the eight months she'd known him, even with all their spats and arguments, he'd never used that word with her. And she hated him for doing it now, especially because she knew in her heart he meant it.

“It doesn't have to go like this, you know. We almost had something once, but that's over and I'm through paying for it. I'm not about to let you keep telling me I have to wait on my money. I want it all, and I want it now. So what are you gonna do,” he demanded, forcing thick faux-street attitude into his voice. “What?”

“I told you that I'm going to pay you back, and I've already sent a check to your lawyer. That's it. I don't make a mint, that's the only option I have, Kelvin.” Bianca's mouth was hot and dry when she tried to swallow. The hand holding the phone was slick with quick sweat; her other hand curled into a tight fist.

“Would you rethink your options if I made life harder for you?”

And it was that last question, on top of being called a bitch, that did it. Yes, she realized, now that she was out of the showroom and walking down the hot pavement of Baker Street. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Talking to him, she'd known that a single word would be one too many, but she spoke anyway. “You know what, Kelvin? You threw me out, left me pretty damned-near penniless, and then laughed your ass off while I tried to figure out how to keep mine out of the gutter. There's not a whole lot else you can do to make my life difficult. You're going to get your money when I get it, and calls like this won't make that happen any faster.”

“Sounds like you need a lesson…”

“Sounds like you didn't learn a lesson. Next time you threaten me, next time you get enough nerve to call me a bitch, I'm not going to be the only one getting surprised. Count on it.”

Clicking the phone closed, she'd leaned against the cool tile wall, her knees weak. Her sagging body slid slowly to the floor, and she'd crouched there for a long time, arms wrapped around her bent legs. Resting her cheek against her knees, she wondered if she had sounded brave or crazy on the phone.
Probably a little of both.

Standing, she'd walked to the sink to wash her face and hands. On the counter in front of her, her phone danced and buzzed again. Kelvin apparently disliked being hung up on and was trying to have the last word. Silencing the phone gave her a tremendous amount of satisfaction, and Bianca found herself humming by the time she returned to the showroom floor. She might well have continued humming for the remainder of her day—if it hadn't been for Julia.

Julia had launched her crusade at lunch on Wednesday.
And it's my fault for giving her the opening. If I hadn't gotten caught up in the storeroom, I would have been on time and she never would have met Akemi. If she hadn't met him and gotten wrapped up in all that charm, he would never have asked her out, and my life would be easier.

But she had been late. And now Julia was determined to go—dragging her sister with her. And here she was on the line again. Feeling guilty for letting the last four calls go to voice mail, Bianca had answered—and the floodgates opened.

“Bianca, I know you said you weren't interested in going out and being a third wheel, but I think this might be just what you need to get you out of your rut.”

Determined not to scream, Bianca had headed back to the ladies' room. “Don't you have any real work to do? You've been on the phone with me at least four out of every eight hours, and my answer is still the same: NO! The man is my boss, for heaven's sake. I need this job, Julia. You have a fight with him, do the wrong thing, make the wrong moves, and I'm out. You going out with him complicates everything, and if you dare add sex to the mix…”

“Are you saying that you think I'm bad in bed, because…”

“Aargh!
I don't want to know anything about you and a bed.
Nothing,
do you hear me?
Absolutely nothing
!”

“You started it,” Julia sulked.

“Did not. I simply said…Never mind what I said. I am not going out with you. In fact, I'm going to pretend like I don't know you two have ever met. I'm going to ignore both of you.”

And she might have done exactly that had Akemi Jordan not walked out with her at the end of the day.

Self-possessed and securely masculine, Akemi held the door and walked to the elevator with her. He'd cheerfully told her to think of Friday as being completely casual and that he was looking forward to it.

“Friday? What's happening Friday?”

“My brother and I will be meeting you and the lovely Julia at Dugan's for karaoke. It's a nice place. We should have a good time.”

“Your…” Did he say brother? Bianca stumbled and would have gone face-first to the floor had he not caught her elbow. “No, no,” she stuttered.
Why is he nodding? Can't he hear?
“No, no.”

She was still auditioning various forms of the word ‘no' when the elevator doors opened. “Ah,” Akemi said, “I need to go back for my book.” He stepped back and smiled. “I'll be out of the office tomorrow during the day, but Harry and I will definitely see you tomorrow night.”

“I am not going,” she promised herself. “I will not be there to see you or your brother.” The elevator reached the lobby and she remembered that she had to make a quick grocery run.
But I never said a word about going anywhere with my sister and Akemi Jordan. Or his brother, Harry.

Pushing a cart through the produce department, Bianca refused to believe that Akemi Jordan needed to bring his brother, Harry, along because he was afraid of Julia.
He's probably just trying to do him a favor.

Kind of like Julia probably thinks she's doing for me
, she told herself.

Joi had met the brother, said he was very nice, then kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. To her credit, Joi Lansing was no workplace gossip, but what she was
not
saying spoke volumes. Harry was probably some kind of loser and Akemi was just being a good brother.

As Bianca unloaded her basket at the checkout counter, she found her tolerance for sibling meddling had grown, marginally. Maybe Julia and Akemi really did just want their siblings around as buffers. He was divorced and she had thrown away the love of her life—maybe they really were just a little gun-shy.

Hoping that her sister was above trying to set her up, Bianca took her bags and left the store. Two blocks later, she finally reached Museum Tower and, grateful for the assist, she waited for a tall smiling man to open the door for her. In the lobby, she set the bags at her feet and pulled off her suit jacket. The corner of her mouth ticked upward when she noticed the Out-of-Order sign on one of the two passenger elevators.

She pressed the call button on the lone functioning elevator and eased her foot free of her leather pump. Wiggling her toes, she thought of how good it would feel to get into the condo and get out of the rest of her suit.
Pajamas. And dinner with time to crash on the sofa.

Watching the elevator's floor indicator, she realized it was still going up, and sighed. This was going to take a little while. Bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, Bianca closed her eyes and massaged lightly, the little effort making her long for her favorite spa. But the spa, like many other things, would have to wait for a little while. Everything, it seemed, took a little while. Getting her life back was taking a little while, paying off her watch loan was taking a little while, getting the Neiman's order finished was taking a little while, and yet it was all good. She opened her eyes and found she was still alone in the lobby, but the elevator was finally descending. Her cellphone vibrated in her pocket just before it buzzed. It was Julia again.

“So, did you decide about tomorrow night? Will you come? Say you'll come.”

“You didn't tell me his brother was coming.”

“Didn't I? I thought I did, but we're only including him because you said you didn't want to feel like a third wheel. With a second man there, you won't have to. Come on, Bianca, I've been asking, begging you, for two days. Don't make me call this rent. Say you'll come.”

“I've already told you no. You like him and he likes you; you don't need me.”

Not ashamed to wheedle and bribe, Julia whined. “I wouldn't ask you, except that you're my sister and if I can't turn to you, then…”

“All right! Karaoke and strange men, one of whom happens to be my boss, and you just happen to find him irresistible. Oh, how can I possibly resist?”

“So you'll come?”

The elevator doors opened, and Bianca grabbed her groceries and stepped on board. Feeling coerced, she gave in. “I'll come, but only because I suspect that this is one of those sister things, and you'll set up a petition to send me straight to hell if I don't.”

Julia's shrill cheer filled her ear and nearly drowned out the sound of the man rushing into the lobby as the elevator doors came together. Instinctively helpful, Bianca slapped at the panel of buttons, hitting everything except OPEN. The man slapped at the doors again.

“Oh, great,” Bianca muttered. Now she was going to stop on nearly every floor, and her helpful effort had been for naught. She sighed heavily and stepped out of her pumps. “Just great.”

“Great,” Harry Jordan said, watching the elevator doors close. “With my luck, it'll go all the way to the top, hitting every floor, and then stop.”

He pulled his tie loose, and removed his jacket, folding it over his arm. He pulled his cufflinks free, then rolled up the sleeves of his pale-green shirt. Even as he became more comfortable, Harry found himself thinking that Kemi would never do what he'd done. Fashion was his brother's religion and he would never spoil the lines of his GQ look. Then he thought of his brother's latest Harry Rejuvenation Project: trying to fix him up with the sister of a woman he'd just met.

No, thanks, he promised himself. When he was ready to meet a woman, he would do it on his own. Turning away from the dawdling elevator, he looked out at the street and saw the shimmer of not-yet summer heat rising off the sidewalk. He saw women in cool summer dresses, men in shorts and sandals, ready for the already hot weather, all headed for the park.

When I'm ready to meet a woman, I'll do it on my own
, he thought again, as his fingers brushed the postcard from Karen. She was in Portugal again and had thought of him. She'd scrawled a teasing nod to their former acquaintance across the back of the card.

He'd jammed the stupid thing into his pocket earlier—not sure why, he'd just done it. Maybe because it was easier than leaving it out in plain sight where someone else might see it, and he would feel compelled to explain.
How do you explain a woman like Karen Dodge?
She was
une femme de goût
, a woman of taste; n
o, she was a woman of certain tastes,
and in another time she would have been called an adventuress.

He fingered the card and out of nowhere, recalled the words of an old song—a song about falling for the wrong woman and never being able to love again.
Funny I would remember that, but I have trouble remembering her face. As much as I thought I loved her…

Without trying very hard, Harry could almost smell her cologne, and could remember the cool trace of her fingers against his skin when it was still hot from sex. If he closed his eyes and stood very still, he could still feel her kisses, the little ones when her lashes touched him like butterfly wings. The sweet ghosts of what might have been still lingered. And that was really all she'd ever given him, wasn't it? Wispy promise of what might have been.

But she had never lied, he had to admit. From the very beginning, she told him that whatever they made of a sunny holiday would never last. She told him he was only her present and that he should never confuse the moment with love. She had told him she was not for him.

He stood there waiting for the elevator, the glossy card between his fingers.
We loved each other for the moment; we just couldn't get that moment to last.
That wasn't exactly true. They loved being together; laughing together, making love together. When she had enough, she'd shed him like a loose garment and gone her way. Never took his calls, and or bothered to make further contact—until now.

He pulled the postcard from his pocket. Lisbon, Portugal. He closed his eyes, remembering the city. Springtime temperatures in winter, freshened by a breeze blowing in from the Atlantic, built across seven terraced hills along the Tagus River. That was Lisbon, the city he'd shared with her.