Chapter 2

“Every city has its own distinct scent.” 

I never understood why Ayaka said that until we stepped off the plane and into a wide hallway, following the arrows indicating baggage claim. 

Los Angeles smelled of gasoline and flowers.

People were everywhere and I couldn’t stop gawking at the sheer variety of humans. Fat, thin, tall, short, light skin, dark skin, it was all so interesting and I almost tripped over my own feet as I watched an Indian man with a turban argue with a Caucasian woman in a business suit and dark sunglasses. 

“You’re staring,” Nobuki muttered as we stood in the immigration line. “Stop it. It’s rude.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” I said, guiltily looking away from a family of four, the blonde mother chastising her son for teasing his sister. 

“You haven’t been outside of Japan, have you?”

Was that scorn in his voice? “I have.”

Nobuki lifted a brow. “Where?”

“Okinawa.”

“Okinawa isn’t abroad.”

“It is to me. I had to get on a plane and there were lots of foreigners there. It might as well have been abroad. I swear, there were more Americans than Japanese,” I shot back. “Besides, you know there’s the army base. I walked into a bar near the airport and thought I was in New York.”

“New York?” 

His doubtful expression made me mumble, “What I think New York looks like.”

Nobuki sighed. We didn’t talk again until we got through the line and ended up at the baggage corrals. 

There were so many people milling around, and I couldn’t stop staring at the diversity surrounding us. Skin as white as milk and as dark as charcoal, and every degree in between. No wonder I couldn’t keep my mouth closed.  

They say Japan is one of the most homogeneous places in the world. 

They’re right. 

I could count on my hands how many foreigners I saw on the subway in any given week, and still have a few fingers left over. 

Here, I stood shoulder to shoulder with people from other countries; the man on my left who looked very Swedish with his white complexion and almost as white hair, while the woman on my right was short, squat, and darker than ebony. 

Her luggage came out first, a gigantic gray Samsonite. When she struggled to pull it off the conveyor, I helped her with the bag that probably weighed as much as she did. 

She gave me a brilliantly white smile. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she said in a heavy accent, patting my shoulder. “You’re an angel.”

I said a silent prayer for all those English lessons in dreary classrooms and replied, “No problem.”

My two first words in English since our plane landed in Los Angeles. I felt stupidly accomplished for saying that much.  

“I wish more girls were sweet like you.” She patted my cheek with a motherly hand. “I’d love to introduce you to my son.”

“Um…”

Had she just asked me to meet her son? 

Why? “Er, I…”

My mind blanked. What should I say?

Nobuki appeared next to me, carting both our bags. “Thank you for the offer, but she cannot accept.”

The woman’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, is she your lady, then?”

He smiled. 

Her laughter was surprisingly deep, bawdy almost. “Well then, why didn’t you say so, sweetie?”

As she left with her giant bag, she slapped me on the butt. 

Hard. 

“Go get ’em, girl,” she said with another bawdy laugh and disappeared behind a crowd of tourists clutching Korean passports. 

I stared at Nobuki, my right butt cheek smarting from her sudden blow. 

“She hit me.”

He looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek, but there was no obvious emotion on his face. “Let’s go. I don’t want to keep our escort waiting.”

Still a bit in shock, I took my bag and rolled on after him.

We skirted around a man struggling with an overloaded trolley while a young lady screamed a strange language, possibly Spanish, at her cell phone. 

“Do you know who our escort is?” I asked.

“We’ve…met,” he said shortly as we got in yet another line, this one for a luggage scanning machine. 

“Oh,” I said. Thankfully, the line moved quickly. “Can you tell me anything about him? It’d be nice to know about the guy before we meet.”

“Why?”

“I want to say how much I’d heard about him.”

He huffed out a breath. “He wouldn’t believe you.”

“Wait, what? Why not?”

“Just put your luggage up.” 

I did and walked the few steps to pick it back up at the end of the conveyor belt. The security employees looked bored staring at the X-rays of everyone’s luggage and I felt a sudden pang of pity. 

“Thank you,” I said, grabbing my luggage. 

“No problem, ma’am,” said one man who gave me a tired smile. “Welcome to LA.”

Nobuki was already halfway to the doors and I ran after him, handbag banging against my hip. 

“So, about this guy,” I gasped out, almost running straight into his arm as he slowed down to let an older couple with a loaded trolley pass us. “It was good of him to meet us. We could’ve rented a car, right?”

“Certainly would’ve been easier,” he muttered and sighed as the older couple exited into the meeting area. “Let’s go.”

Why was he so disturbed? 

“Is something wrong?”

Ignoring me—what a surprise—he surged ahead, and I had to jog to keep up with him. 

Par for the course. 

Me, always one step behind him. 

Entering the meeting area, I was awash in light and sound. Around me, people embraced each other, couples kissed, people shook hands. The smell of gasoline and, for some reason, French fries was thick in the air. 

Momentarily stunned, I almost didn’t see the tall blond man hold up his arm in greeting, his eyes on us. 

He looked like a heartbreaker. 

And that’s me saying it with a devastatingly handsome devil for a boss. 

I watched him walk to the gates, looking amazing in a black leather jacket, a plain white shirt hanging over a pair of semi-tight jeans, and dark blue sneakers. 

When he met Nobuki, he pulled my boss into a bear hug, laughing loudly and pounding hard on Nobuki’s back. 

Maybe it was a thing here in America. 

Smacking people might be a sign of greeting. 

That’s something my English classes never taught me. 

“Man, it’s great to see you!” He pulled back, looking at Nobuki at arm’s length. “How long has it been? Ten, fifteen years?”

Nobuki’s smile was wooden. “Twelve.”

“Twelve? Twelve? Damn, it’s been too long, bro.” 

“Too long,” muttered Nobuki, although the look on his face said it wasn’t long enough. 

“Man, let me help you with your bag.”

“I’ve got it, Julian.”

“It’s all good, Nobu, I don’t mind.”

“Well, I mind. I don’t need your help.”

They fought over Nobuki’s one medium-sized suitcase and I tried not to laugh.

A pair of young women with bleached blond hair turned to look at Nobuki’s friend, their eyes admiring.

I couldn’t blame them; I was doing a lot of staring myself. 

If Nobuki was the night, then his friend was the day, the masculine personification of the sun at its zenith. 

All tanned skin, blond hair, and eyes the color of the blue sky. Legs long enough to draw one’s attention, and impressively muscular arms, evident even through his jacket. 

He was thicker around the torso than my boss. Nobuki was built like a runner, all lean and whiplike but his friend was shaped like a Viking marauder. Broad shouldered with large hands that were just as capable around the hilt of a sword or pruning roses. 

Nobuki managed to wrest the luggage handle from his friend’s hand and then nodded in my direction, his hair all over the place from the brief struggle. “If you’re so eager to help, why don’t you help her?” 

The Viking warrior finally noticed me. 

This close to him, the color of his eyes made my heart leap to my throat. 

The ocean. 

Not just any ocean. 

The ocean I saw in a hot Okinawan summer, all blue and green and gray, jewellike in its intensity. 

His face wasn’t as refined as Nobuki’s; there was a slight bump to his nose, as though it had been broken, but he had a strong jawline and sensual lips that looked as though they smiled often. 

Such a contrast with Nobuki Miyano.

The stranger’s mouth widened in a blinding smile as he straightened up to his full height, a couple of centimeters taller than Nobuki. “Damn, Nobu. You never mentioned bringing a friend along.”

Nobuki straightened his cuffs, looking a little less disheveled.  

“She’s not my friend,” he said bitingly. 

I ignored the sudden pain in my heart.

“She’s my secretary. Miss Hasegawa, this is Julian Lambert. Julian, this is Rika Hasegawa.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Miss Hasegawa,” said Julian. “Welcome to Los Angeles. If you need anything, just let me know.”

I blinked. 

He had addressed me in flawless Japanese, not a shadow of accent detectable. 

“Um,” I fumbled for words through my surprise. “I speak English, too. A bit, anyway.”

He laughed, one hand on the back of his neck, adopting a boyish and strangely becoming air. “Damn, I was hoping I could practice some Japanese today. It’s not every day I get to talk to such a pretty lady.”

I suppressed the urge to giggle like a twit. “Your Japanese is impeccable. I was so surprised.”

“And your English is very good,” he said graciously.

“You’re too kind.” My face heated as I let him take my bag. He was close enough to touch, and even through the scent of leather emanating from his jacket, I could smell something else, something spicy like cinnamon. “Thank you.”

He winked at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to speak in Japanese? I would appreciate the practice. Don’t want to forget the language of my best friend.”

“Oh, please.” Nobuki rolled his eyes. “You call our company every day, bugging the hell out of anyone who picks up the phone, and now you’re going to bother my secretary? I don’t think so.”

Julian frowned. “Man, you always know how to kill a party.”

“Wasn’t much of one.”

Julian led us to a black SUV, large and dangerous, very much like himself, and opened up the trunk. He hefted in my bag as though it weighed nothing and held out his hand to Nobuki, who pointedly ignored his hand and threw in his own piece of luggage. 

“I’m not a woman. I can handle my own stuff.”

I stiffened. His comment was insulting. 

Apparently, Julian felt the same. “Dude, do you always have to sound so damn sexist? I’m pretty sure Miss Hasegawa could carry her own stuff, but she’s letting me do it because she’s polite. Just like every other damn Japanese I’ve met.” He paused. “Except for you. You’ve always been a bit of an asshole, haven’t you?”

Abruptly, Nobuki turned around, less than five centimeters away from Julian, his face set in a thunderous mask. 

“You weren’t my first choice,” he spat out, and even though I wasn’t the recipient of his ire, I found myself taking a step back. 

“I love you, too, man,” said Julian mildly. “Seriously, though, you need to relax.” He continued in that same calm tone, as though they were talking about the weather, not about…whatever was really going on. “I know what your problem is.”

“No.” Nobuki’s eyes blazed. “You don’t. Don’t pretend like you do. I don’t need your pity, Julian.”

Julian stepped back and something eased in my chest. Thank God. I thought they were going to come to blows.

“It wasn’t just you, man,” Julian said, as we slowly baked under the hot Los Angeles sun. “She got me, too. She got both of us.”

My ears perked. 

She?

The way Julian sounded, it seemed as though they were talking about a possible…girlfriend? Lover? Coworker?

Nobuki looked away, his shoulders stiff. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s fine.” Julian took another step back and put one hand on the upraised trunk door. I tried not staring at the torso peeking out from the raised shirt hem, but I’m only human. 

Oh, and I haven’t had sex in about two years. 

Just hormones. 

That’s all. 

Just a simple biological reaction. 

Because, hey, it was okay to have sexy dreams about my boss but still think another man is sexier than black leather strappy heels, right?

Nobuki took a deep breath and then looked at me. “I’m sorry, Miss Hasegawa. That was—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” I stammered. While I was curious about what happened between Julian, Nobuki, and the mysterious woman they referred to, I didn’t want to embarrass my boss by making him explain something that was none of my business. “It’s between you and Mr. Lambert, and I don’t—”

The car trunk slammed down, making me jump at the sudden thump. 

Julian moved past me, once again bathing me in the subtle scent of leather and cinnamon, and opened the passenger door. “After you, ma’am.”

“In the front? With you?”

A development I hadn’t expected and wasn’t sure if I wanted. Not with Nobuki staring daggers into our escort.

The corners of Julian’s ocean-blue eyes crinkled. “I’d much rather look at you than Nobu. You’re a lot easier on the eyes.”

“Um, I—”

Thankfully, Nobuki stopped me from having to give Julian a good excuse as he slipped into the front passenger seat.  

“I think Miss Hasegawa would prefer sitting in the back,” he said, his gaze forward. “She was telling me how tired she was.” He looked at me coolly. “Isn’t that right, Miss Hasegawa?”

Not bothering to hide the relief on my face, I smiled, opened the back door, and clambering onto the hot leather seat before Julian could blink. 

Feeling more than a little mischievous, I poked my head out the door and smiled at Julian.

“Are you coming?” I was so relieved the two hadn’t come to blows that I even laughed a bit. “I could drive this, but considering my knowledge of your country, we just might end up in, ah, New York.”

Nobuki snorted in the front seat. 

Julian eyed me speculatively. I kind of liked it. “Well, I hate New York, but if it’s with you, the damned place might not be too bad after all.”

Now it was Nobuki’s turn to look out his window. “You’re flirting with my secretary, you moron. How about a little more class, hmm?”

Julian sighed and shot me a glance through the rearview mirror. “Miss Hasegawa, normally if some asshole calls me a moron, I’m the kind of guy who takes it because, hey, sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.”

I blinked. “I can think of plenty of insults that would be painful to hear.”

“Then again,” he said, “There’s something about Nobu’s insults that tend to hit me especially hard.”

“So why do you just take it instead of pushing him off a cliff?”

“Because the nearest cliff is fifty miles away,” said Nobuki under his breath. 

Julian’s smile was amazing. “It’s his way of saying he cares. Notice how he never has anything good to say about anyone?”

I stared at him. “You’re right. He’s never said anything complimentary about anyone.”

“See what I mean?” said Julian. “But people he hates, he acts like they don’t exist. So if he treats you like crap, consider it a compliment because at least he knows you exist.”

“So when he calls you a moron, he means—”

Julian nodded. “Good friend.”

“You wish,” snapped Nobuki. “Get us out of here before we melt in the heat, you bastard.”

It was the first time I’d heard Nobuki curse. 

I liked it. 

Just like I enjoyed seeing the usually unflappable and neat Nobuki Miyano so messy and disheveled. 

Julian gave him the finger, which Nobuki did not see. 

But I did and laughed. 

It felt…great.

The strange, strained mood between Nobuki and Julian had dissipated and by the time we got on the eight-lane freeway, the gentle lull of their conversation made me sink into a deep, almost comatose state. 

Head lolling on the head rest, I watched the countless numbers of cars pass, not thinking of much at all, too tired to do anything but blink languidly in the brilliant sunlight. 

“— presentation is scheduled for Wednesday. You’re a speaker. Is that okay? You’ve always hated being the center of attention.” Julian’s voice was low and rumbly like a great beast. 

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier, Nobu.”

Just work talk. 

I let myself slide deeper into a dream state, smiling under the warm spring sunlight. 

“—fault.”

Julian sighed. “Don’t sweat it, man. We went at it like hammers and tongs last time we saw each other, remember?”

“I remember,” said Nobuki, his voice barely audible over the honking of a speedy red convertible in the next lane. “Can’t believe we fell into a mirror. I still have the scar on my shoulder.”

“Lucky bastard,” replied Julian. “At least you can hide yours. I swear, if another Korean person confuses me for Owen Wilson again, I’m going to start signing autographs in his name.”

I opened my eyes and stared at the back of Julian’s head. 

The slight hump in Julian’s nose. 

Nobuki did that?

It was hard to imagine my cool, suave boss as a hothead, swinging his fists around in wild abandon. 

“Did you have any specific plans for the show?” asked Nobuki.

Julian shrugged his wide shoulders. “Nah, just make sure everything is good for you and your secretary. Speaking of which…” His head moved in my direction, and I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. 

“What?”

“What’s her status?”

“Her status?” echoed Nobuki. 

“Yeah, man. Is she married, boyfriend, fiancé, plays for the other team, or what?”

Nobuki guffawed. “I’m pretty sure she’s not a lesbian.”  

“Oh yeah?” A moment of silence. “What about you?”

“Am I gay? Have you been taking drugs?”

“Man, you know what I’m talking about.”

By now I could’ve sworn my ears were bright red. 

What was Nobuki going to say?

Please!

Say something!

“Are you interested in her?” Nobuki asked.

Julian sighed. “You always answer a question with another question. You did that when we were kids and you’re still doing it. Just give me a straight answer. Is she or is she not available?”

“The answer depends on whether you’re interested in her, you moron.”

“If I wasn’t interested, would I have asked, you straight-laced mama’s boy?”

I wanted to laugh at their childish name-calling, but that would’ve blown my cover. 

“So you are interested?” Nobuki seemed almost bored by the entire exchange.

Julian shifted in his seat. I tried not to move, or even breathe for that matter. To them, I was as good as invisible. 

“You’re not?” asked Julian.

“Now who’s the one replying to a question with another one?”

“This is never going to stop, is it?”

“Stop asking questions, then.”

Julian muttered something under his breath.

“Well?” asked Nobuki. “How about the truth, bro?”

Julian snorted. “Yeah, fine. I’m interested in her. You happy? Yes, I would like to get to know her a little better.”

I felt a flutter of excitement in my belly. This Viking god wanted to know me better? Maybe I should’ve bought a lottery ticket to capitalize on this strange bit of luck. 

“What makes you think she’d want anything to do with you?” asked Nobuki. “For all you know, she’s probably scared of you.”

“Aw, come on, man. I’m not bragging or anything, but you know the ladies like me.”

“The ones here do.” Nobuki sighed. “But we’re talking about American girls. They’re not like Japanese girls. Didn’t you learn your lesson? You’re not that much of an idiot.”

“According to you, I am. And I learned a thing or two from Hanami.”

“It’s that thing or two I’m worried about,” murmured Nobuki. “Anyway, Rika’s nothing like her.”

Who was Hanami?

I had all these questions, but got the sneaking suspicion I’d never get all the answers I wanted.    

“I know. I knew it for sure when she said she’d drive us to New York.” Julian laughed. “Hanami would’ve never said that. She would’ve sat quietly in the car. Miss Hasegawa has spirit. She’s feisty. I like it.”

“You can’t treat Rika like the girls here or like Hanami.” Nobuki paused. “She’s…”

“She’s?”

I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted to open my eyes more. 

What kind of expression would’ve been on Nobuki’s face? 

Or on Julian’s?

“Different,” said Nobuki. “She’s different.”

“Different?”

My thoughts exactly. 

“What do you mean?”

Again, exactly what I was thinking. I wondered if Julian and I were communicating via telepathy. 

“She’s innocent,” mused Nobuki. “But not innocent. She’s stubborn, but she has common sense. She’s afraid of many things, but she’s brave enough not to let it show. She has spunk, but she’s not…well, you get the idea, don’t you?”

“Sounds like a walking bucket of contradictions.” 

“An understatement.”

“You almost sound fond of her.”

Oh my God. 

“She’s a hard worker.”

My excitement deflated like a balloon left out in the cold. 

A hard worker?

That’s it?

Out of all the damn things for Nobuki to say, he chose to refer to my diligence?

“My friend, that is the first compliment I have heard from you since the day I shoved your head in the school bathroom.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll pass. Not as fun as they make it sound.”

A pause. “I don’t even want to know.”

I kind of did. 

“I’m going to ask her out.”

“Do what you want,” said Nobuki. “Just so we’re clear, you know we leave in a week, right? You never struck me as the casual type, Julian.”

“I’m not.”

“Then?”

“We’re always looking to hire exceptional people, and according to you, she sounds like a perfect addition to Taylor and Bayson.”

Nobuki snickered. “You think Rika’s going to quit her job, leave everything she knows, for you? I knew you were full of yourself, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“Maybe I’ll move to Japan. I’m sure Shokogan wouldn’t mind someone like me.”

“You are fucking crazy. You’d move all the way back to Japan just for a girl?”

I winced. I was kind of hoping I was more than just a girl.

“I did it before for Hanami, didn’t I? I can do it again.”

“You’re an idiot who never learned his lesson.”

“Whatever, man.” I heard something tapping, like knuckles on a steering wheel. “So you’re okay with this?”

Nobuki sighed. “You don’t need my blessing to flirt with Rika.”

I ignored the pang of disappointment in my heart. 

Of course he would say that. 

It’s not as though we had any kind of connection beyond the workplace. 

My heart felt heavy. The last time I felt remotely like this was when I confessed to my first love in high school. He turned me down, kindly, but still it was a no. 

And so was this. 

Then again, it wasn’t as though I had made any overtures on Nobuki. He didn’t know my feelings for him. Heck, I didn’t even know if these feelings were real or not, but it would’ve been nice to explore them outside of my dream. 

“One thing, Julian. Remember I said Rika isn’t like any other girl you’ve met?”

“Yeah?”

Someone shifted in his seat, making the leather squeak. 

“You hurt her, and our friendship is over.”

“Oh, so this is a friendship, Nobu?”

“I’ll make that hump on your nose look like a beauty mark by the time I’m through with you. Got it?”

What was happening?

Why would my boss say that?

“Don’t worry.” Apparently, Julian didn’t like the smear on his reputation. “Things come down to that, I’ll do it myself.”

“As long as we’re clear.”

“Definitely, bro.”

“Jet lag hit her hard. She’s still sleeping even through all that.”

“Or she’s pretending.”

Crap. 

I stopped breathing again, and my pulse sped. 

Think sleepy thoughts…think sleepy thoughts…

“No,” said Nobuki after a brief pause. “She’s not that kind of person. Trust me, if she was awake, we’d know. There’s no way she would’ve let us have that conversation. Probably strangle us both on the 405.”

Julian chuckled. “There are worse ways to go.”

“Worse ways to go than crushed underneath a semi?”

“This is the size of a Humvee. Other cars become truck fodder, not this one.”

“I see. Is this something you worry about, Julian?”

“Shut up, mama’s boy.”

“Barbarian.”

“Fussy pot.”

“Wolf.”

There was a pause. “Wolf?” Julian replied. “Wolf? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You’ve got hair everywhere. It seemed apt.”

“That’s normal.”

Nobuki laughed. “Not in Japan.”

“Remember the time I went to the bathhouse out by the college? Made all the old Japanese guys stare. I thought their eyes were going to fall out. I felt like a mutant.”

“The one next to the convenience store that sold taiyaki?” 

“Hell yeah. I used to get a bag of those every day in the winter. Gained like twenty pounds, but Christ, was it worth it.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The taiyaki or gaining twenty pounds in three months?”

Despite the interest I had in following their conversation, the gentle lull of it was sending me to sleep. 

I didn’t want to. 

Not with the things to consider. 

Julian professed an interest in me. 

Julian and Nobuki dated the same girl…Minami or something. 

A pang of envy ran through me. Some women get all the luck. 

But the most surprising piece of information was that Nobuki was willing to sacrifice his friendship with Julian for me. 

You hurt her, and our friendship is over.

It was strangely heart-warming and somewhat depressing. 

A big, very big part of me wanted to be with Nobuki in a sexual manner, yet he thought of me as nothing but an industrious worker.

Which wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but still. 

My eyes popped open as a sudden realization smacked me across the face, chasing away any possible chances of sleep. 

Two weeks. 

I’d known Nobuki for maybe fifteen, sixteen days. 

I didn’t have enough fingers on my hands to count the number of times I had dreamed of fucking my boss. 

What the hell?

“Did you have a good nap?”

My face heated. “Er. Yes. I did. Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I was so tired, but…”

“Well, it is a twelve-hour flight,” said Julian, his eyes wide and very, very alluring in the rearview mirror. 

And he wanted to take me out on a few dates. 

Professed to want to know me better. 

Even said he wouldn’t think it strange to continue our possible relationship by coming to Japan. 

No one had ever shown me this kind of interest. 

“I haven’t been able to sleep very well,” I admitted, unable to look away from his eyes, even though I knew I should’ve let him turn his attention back to the road. 

We were off the freeway and surrounded by stores, gas stations, and to my right, a large shopping center, the immense parking lot stuffed with cars. 

“What’s up?” Julian laughed. I loved the sound of his laughter. “Nobu keeping you up all hours with his crazy demands?”

“What?” I almost choked on my heart. “What? No. Not at all. I don’t…”

For one moment, just one stupid, idiotic moment, I thought he was referring to my dreams. 

It was his choice of words. After all, there was no way Julian knew about my almost nightly sexual fantasies. 

Julian broke into another burst of laughter.

“You’re scaring her,” said Nobuki. 

“Yeah, I know.” Julian turned a quick left, his eyes back on the road, thank God. “For a sec it looked like she was going to jump out of the car.”

My breath was ragged as I tried to gain back some sense of self. “I’m sorry. I was just flustered.”

“I see…” Julian’s gaze turned contemplative. “Wonder what kind of thing you’re making your secretary do to make her all red and flustered.”

I pressed my hands over my cheeks, trying to massage some of the heat away. 

“Nothing, you pervert.” Nobuki rolled down his window. The brush of fresh air felt wonderful against my face. “Unlike you, I know how to keep my work and personal life separate.”

Basically meaning that while I was his secretary, I had no chance in hell of ever being with him. 

Well, that wasn’t particularly surprising. 

In fact, it should’ve been obvious. 

A workaholic like Nobuki Miyano was nothing like my past boss who loved having sex on his office desk. Not with me, though, thankfully. 

Not saying Mr. Abe wasn’t good at his job, but comparing the two was like comparing a black plastic bag and a leather purse from Prada. 

“Oh yeah?” challenged Julian. “What about Hanami?”

“Hanami was young.” Nobuki sighed. “We all were. I learned my lesson. Did you?”

Even from where I sat, I saw the smile slide off Julian’s face, saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel. 

“Maybe.” A corner of his lips kicked up. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you admitting a mistake.”

Nobuki shrugged. “I’m not perfect.”

“Wow, congratulations, you’re human.”

“Shut up and just get us to the hotel.”

“Calm down,” said Julian mildly. “We’re here.”

We rolled up to the double front doors of a large hotel, a bellboy already coming toward us, with gloved hands and the silly hat that must’ve been required because I couldn’t imagine why anyone would choose to wear a fez. 

We collected our bags and Julian thwacked Nobuki on the back again. 

“You need to stop doing that,” muttered my boss, frowning. It said something about someone when they looked attractive with a frown. 

“Well, I could give you a bro hug again,” said Julian. 

“Pass.”

Nobuki rolled past me and through the double doors with his luggage, not even looking behind him to see if we were following. 

Typical. 

Where did he get such confidence?

“Here you go.” Julian wheeled my luggage onto the curb and closed the SUV’s back door. “You better get in before he disappears. He’s always been kind of inconsiderate like that.”

I felt the instinctive urge to defend Nobuki. You know, because I was his secretary and all. “Not always. When I was, um, sick, he got me medicine.”

Julian whistled low. “And you didn’t even ask for it? No, wait. If you asked, he definitely wouldn’t do it.”

“You’re right. He wouldn’t.” 

We both stared at Nobuki’s back as he strode to the front desk, oozing confidence and competence. 

“You know, I used to be pretty jealous of the guy,” said Julian conversationally. 

“If I were a man, I think I would be, too,” I agreed. “On the other hand, I don’t think I’d be man enough to admit it, unlike you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Could be that I’m still jealous of him.” 

I watched the sunlight play across his tanned features. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you two friends? It almost seems like you dislike each other.”

This I said in Japanese, mostly because I didn’t know to express my thought properly in English. My English was okay, not great. 

“He’s a porcupine,” replied Julian in flawless Japanese. 

I blinked, convinced he had used the wrong word. “Porcupine? We’re talking about the animal with all the spikes, right?”

“Yeah, the animal with all the spikes.” Julian grinned and then waved as Nobuki turned around at the front desk, his eyes on us. “He’s prickly and defensive. He’s been that way ever since he was a kid. But there’s no one I trust more. It’s weird to say this, considering how cold he is, but he’s honest. I respect that.”

“I think I understand. Um…” I held out my hand, feeling awkward at such a formal action. “Thank you. For helping us. Mr. Miyano didn’t say thank you, but I’m sure he thinks it.”

He stared at my hand. 

Uh-oh.

Did I commit a social faux pas?

My hand wavered in the air, but he took it between his.

“Hey, Nobu told me you weren’t seeing anyone. That true?”

I was tongue-tied. Also, the warmth from his hands was almost too much to bear. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Okay, good.” He paused. “So here’s my question. Do you mind if I, you know—”

Even though I was pretty sure my face was as red as a tomato, I somehow managed to summon the courage to say, “You’re asking me out on a date?”

His mouth fell open. 

It was terribly cute. 

I was of the impression that most American guys were suave, cunning men, who knew what women wanted, but Julian Lambert seemed an anomaly. 

And I liked it. 

He snatched his hands from mine. “Yeah. Hah. I guess I am. I mean, if you’re free.”

“I don’t know how busy we’ll be, to be honest,” I said. 

Julian took a step back, the same happy-go-lucky smile on his lips. 

“Hey, that’s okay,” he said loudly. Maybe a little too loudly. “I understand. I mean, of course you’d be too busy. Especially with such a boss like Nobu. I bet he—”

Before he could completely fall off the proverbial rails, I put a hand on his arm. 

“I didn’t say no,” I said, aware of a valet watching us curiously from the podium a few meters away.

The smile faded just a bit. “You didn’t?”

“No.” A multitude of emotions passed through those amazingly bright ocean eyes. “I’d like to go out on a date with you sometime.”

I know how to keep my work and personal life separate. 

I guess I wasn’t like Nobuki in that way. 

“Great.” Julian gave me a blinding smile. “I’ll contact you. Or you can contact me. Whenever you’re free. You want my number? Hold on.” He patted his pockets, a look of confusion clear on his face. “Damn, where the hell is my phone?” His face paled. “I left it at the convention center. Okay, let me try to remember. It’s, uh, seven-nine…”

I held up a finger and began shifting through my bag. “Let me get my phone.”

His face paled even more. “Wait. Shit. I forgot the rest.”

I laughed. 

I couldn’t help it. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be good at this?”

Twin spots of pink appeared high on his cheeks. “That bad, huh? God, you must think I’m an idiot.”

I decided to grab honesty by the neck and wring the hell out of it. “It’s hard to believe. You’re very attractive. I’m surprised, that’s all.”

He shoved a hand over his close-cropped blond hair, smiling in a rueful manner. “Well, most people either assume I’m taken or I’m gay. You wouldn’t believe the number of guys who’ve asked me out. I mean, I’m complimented, but I don’t swing that way.”

“I imagine you leave them heartbroken.”

It was easy to talk to him. I felt comfortable and relaxed around Julian, not at all how I felt with Nobuki, where I felt wound up tighter than a top and always off balance. 

Besides, around Julian I didn’t burn with lust, and I didn’t mind that.

He snapped his fingers. “You know what, Nobu has my number. You can get it from him and shoot me a text when you’re free. Let me buy you a cup of coffee or something.”

“Okay.” Having never been asked out by an American, I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I decided formal would have to do. “I look forward to seeing you.”

“Definitely,” he said and then waved goodbye as he jogged back to the open driver’s door. 

I stood at the curb and waved until the car was out of sight. 

I didn’t know Nobuki had come back outside until he cleared his throat, scaring a few years off my life. 

“He asked you out.”

I managed a shaky little laugh. “He did.” 

“We came here to work, Miss Hasegawa,” he said, reproof in his voice. 

Then why did you give him permission to ask me out?

Yeah, right. As if I could say that. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Miyano. Do you want me to turn him down?”

He coughed and then tucked a lock of dark hair behind one ear. I would’ve sworn he was blushing, but someone like Nobuki Miyano didn’t blush. Ever. 

It was probably just the exposure to the California sun.  

He coughed again. “On the other hand, they say too much work and no play makes so and so a dull boy, er, girl.”

I snuck a sideways glance at his stone-faced countenance. “Normally, I wouldn’t need your permission to go on a date, but I am here on the company’s dime, so I thought it best to make everything clear.”

“Your workday extends from eight to five, just like at the office,” he said curtly. “What you do before or after that is your decision.”

“So it’s fine, then,” I repeated, more to annoy Nobuki than anything else. 

But also to clarify things. 

Because it seemed with him nothing was a hundred percent certain. 

“Yes, it’s fine, damn it,” he snapped. “You think I care about you seeing someone on your off time? As long as you stay focused and ready to work, I couldn’t care less. Here’s your key.” He held out a plastic card. “I’d suggest you get some rest. You look like a raccoon with those dark circles under your eyes.”

He turned on one heel and strode back into the hotel, apparently done with the whole nasty business of talking to me. 

And here I was thinking we weren’t enemies. 

Okay, so maybe we weren’t enemies. But we weren’t friends either. 

He was the boss. I was the secretary. 

Why did I keep forgetting this?