The cries of children screaming, yelling, laughing rang in my ears, but oddly enough, I found I didn't mind.
Shota ran through the indoor playground, following a girl in a red dress and a boy in a black long-sleeved shirt. They jumped into the ball pit and started throwing the plastic balls at each other.
What a cute kid, I thought, leaning back in my seat, our mostly-empty plates on the table before me.
When I first held out my hand to Yue's son in the hallway, it was to make sure I wouldn't lose him. But when he took it, his small fingers wrapping around mine, my heart took a curious lurch.
Until then, I would have said I didn't care much for children, but when he raised his head and gave me a small smile, my heart literally melted and pooled around my feet in a hot mess.
I wasn't sure where I would take him as I usually never left the building for lunch, but before I left the office, I left a note on Nobuki's desk, informing him that I was taking Shota out to lunch.
The question was…where?
A quick search on my phone while we waited out front for a taxi showed me a cartoon-themed cafe just a few blocks away.
The driver didn't seem all that keen to take us such a short distance, but I didn't mind the sour look he gave me as I paid for the ride when Shota let out a sound of pleasure at the brightly colored façade of the Kiddy Park Cafe, not too far from Ginza Station.
The menu prices weren't too bad, considering where we were. When I asked Shota what he wanted, he gave me a quizzical glance.
"My mommy doesn't ask me what I like to eat," he said as I tried to decide between the hamburger steak or curry plate for him. "I just eat."
Something occurred to me. "Shota, is there something your mom doesn't let you eat? Like you have an allergy?"
If Shota had an allergic reaction while we were together, I was positive Yue Kinou would drag me to the roof and kick me off the ledge. And I would let her.
He shook his head. "I can eat anything. What's allergy?"
"Um…something you can't eat or else you'll get round like a puffer fish," I said and puffed my cheeks out, making him laugh. I handed our menus back to the waitress. "How about a hamburger steak and maybe a parfait?"
He gave me a wide grin. "Okay!"
Myself, I ordered a chicken cutlet plate, mentally apologizing to my mother for not eating the lunch she packed last night.
The food wasn't as bad as I thought, but it was clear that from Shota's darting gaze, he wasn't interested at all with anything on his plate. As he hastily shoved the rest of the hamburger steak in his mouth, he pointed to the huge play area that took up half the restaurant. "I'm finished with my food, may I go play now? Just for a little bit?"
"But…your parfait will be here soon," I stammered. What was the protocol here? Was I supposed to bow to his desires? Tell him he had to eat the rest of his vegetables? That he had to finish his milk?
He shook his head. "I don't want the parfait. I want to play!"
"Um, okay," I said and he almost shot off his chair like a bullet from a gun. "Wait, Shota!"
He paused, fidgeting from foot to foot. Clearly, I was testing the edges of his patience. "Yes?"
"Hold on." I wet a napkin with some ice water and wiped gravy from the corners of his mouth. "Okay, now you can go."
He whooped and sprinted to the play area where he instantly made friends with the other children playing.
"Aren't they adorable?"
I turned in my seat to see a woman, a little older than myself, wearing a pink t-shirt with dark jeans and a white vest, her long dark hair pinned up with a banana clip. She was sitting at the next table, chin supported on her hand, looking wistfully at the play area.
"Yeah, they are," I said and meant it.
If you had asked me an hour ago if I liked kids, I wouldn't have been able to give you a coherent response, seeing as how I had very little contact with anyone under the age of twenty-five, due to my nature of work.
But this…this was kind of enjoyable.
"Which one is yours?" she asked. "Mine is the girl with the red jumper and her hair in pigtails."
"Oh," I started and then thought about saying he wasn't my son, but then stopped when I realized that it would have caused more questions. "The one with the blue t-shirt."
"Oh!" she said. "He's the boy playing with my Ai. What's your son's name?"
"Er, Shota," I said, hoping she wouldn't ask for any more information because calling him Shota Hasegawa would've been incredibly strange.
"How old is he?" she asked. "He looks to be around the same age as my daughter."
I almost said "Er" and barely managed to keep it from leaving my lips. If I was masquerading as his mother, then I shouldn't express surprise at being asked his age. Crap. How old was he? "Seven," I said quickly, hoping that she wouldn't ask him for his name or he wouldn't volunteer that information; otherwise, Ai's mother was liable to call the cops on me.
"Does he go to school near here?"
Jesus, what was this, Twenty Questions?
With clenched jaws, I gave her a rather toothy smile. "No, his father and I are divorced. I get Shota a few times a month."
My words had the exact effect I thought it would. Even though divorce was on the rise in Japan, it was still somewhat of a taboo subject, and most people were loath to talk about it in polite company.
Her eyes widened and then she looked away. "Oh, my, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bother you with so many questions. My mouth gets away from me sometimes."
I gave her a tight smile and tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was just trying to be polite. I didn't know how young mothers reacted with other mothers.
"It's no problem." I started to dig around in my purse, so I wouldn't have to look at her and have to hear more of her stammered apologies, as they were starting to embarrass me.
Idly, I pulled out my phone and flicked on the screen and saw the message that I had five missed calls.
Five missed calls?
The breath caught in my throat and my pulse quickened.
What the hell was going on?
They were all from Nobuki, and I read a message that had been sent between the second and third call about five minutes ago.
Where are you?
Giving an apologetic smile to Ai's mother, who returned the smile and turned back to look at the play area, I quickly called him back.
He answered after the second ring, meaning the phone had been in his hand. That and there was something very, very wrong.
"Where are you?" he asked urgently.
I watched Shota let out a shout and dive head first into the ball pen, disappearing underneath the sea of blue and red plastic balls. "I'm at a café with Shota. Is something wrong?"
In the background, I heard a woman screech inaudibly.
My mouth went dry.
He tsked, impatience clear in that single sound. "Why didn't you tell us? Yue is frantic."
My heart sank to my stomach and my knees went weak. "I left a note on your desk. I wanted to call you, but I thought you didn't want to be disturbed."
There was a sigh on the other line and this time I heard Yue's voice louder, high and strident. I couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but the tone suggested that it was less than complimentary. "We didn't see a note."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll head back now."
"You'd better," he replied tersely. "Before she turns the entire building upside down."
I hung up, my stomach queasy as I collected our things and tapped on the glass between me and the ball pen, catching Shota's attention, as he stood almost chest-deep in the pen.
"We have to go, Shota," I said.
His lips turned down at the corners and wobbled suspiciously. "But I want to play some more!"
I fought to keep a carefree smile on my lips. I didn't want him to know how badly the situation had frayed. I was hoping all this would end as a simple reprimand and nothing else. But knowing the kind of woman Yue seemed to be, I doubted it. Even though I was supposed to return her son to her, I dreaded facing her wrath.
"I'm sorry, Shota, but we have to go back," I replied. "Your mom is waiting for you."
The moment I mentioned his mother, his face fell and he trudged out of the playpen, retrieving his shoes and I hustled him out of the diner, terrified of what was likely to happen in the next fifteen minutes.
I managed to catch a taxi in record time, even though it was the lunchtime rush. When we screeched to a halt in front of the Shokogan building, I had to stop in the middle of getting out, one hand pressed to my churning gut.
"Are you okay, Rika?" asked Shota.
"No problem." I rubbed a hand through the child's silky hair. "Don't worry!"
Easier said than done.
By the time, we made it to the thirteenth floor, I was all but ready to throw up all over my shoes.
Even from the hallway, I could see Yue pacing the office, her heels smashing back and forth, as though she meant to poke holes through the off-white carpet.
"What the hell were you thinking, letting her run off and do something like that?" She raged, her hair mussed, as though she had run her hands through it one too many times. "I swear to God, when she comes back—"
"Don't worry, she's coming now," said Nobuki.
Shota's hand tightened in mine, as he looked at me with terror in his large, round eyes. I couldn't blame him. She still couldn't see us in the hallway, and I put a hand over my chest, trying to stop my heart from beating too fast.
"Don't worry, Shota. Everything will be okay. This was all my fault, so she won't be angry at you."
He bit his lip. "I don't think she'll care about that."
I wanted to give him a hug, but I had the feeling I was the one who needed the hug. "Shall we?"
The brave kid nodded, and my heart constricted for one brief moment, before I took a deep breath and walked into the room.
Yue's reaction was immediate. "Where the hell have you been?"
She stepped forward and ripped Shota's hand from mine and dragged him to the other side of the room, as though she thought I'd spirit him away, given half the chance.
Nobuki sat at my desk, looking strangely peaceful, even though his voice on the other line had been somewhat less than that. "You got here quickly."
"We weren't far away." I dropped my bag on the desk, trying to seem as casual as possible, and not at all like a criminal. "Didn't you find the note I left on your desk?"
He nodded. "We found it behind my chair, but not before Yue completely lost her head."
She ran her hands over her son's body, like she couldn't believe he was in one piece. It was terribly offensive. "Nobuki, how can you be so calm about this? She shouldn't have left with him. She doesn't know what it's like to be a mother and come back to find your son missing."
"You told me to take care of him." My voice was calm, measured. "I did that. You can ask him yourself."
"I don't have to ask him anything. I'm his mother. I know everything about him. What a stupid thing to say!"
Shota tried to speak up. "Rika took me to a really nice place, Mom. They had this huge playground, and I made some friends."
"There was no danger," I said. "I promise you, he was safe with me."
She whirled around, her eyes flashing, and stomped towards me in her expensive heels, hands clenched at her sides. "Shut up! How dare you take my son away? Without my permission!"
I glanced at Nobuki, begging him to save me from this terrible disaster. "I don't know what you want me to say, ma'am. You left him in my care, and I felt so bad for him—"
Her hand flashed out.
The next thing I knew, there was an immediate, sharp pain in my left cheek, a hot, burning sensation that slowly flooded through me, leaving me numb and shivering at the same time.
It took a moment to realize she had just slapped me across the face.
She hit me. Not even my parents had ever laid a hand on me.
Stunned into silence, it was all I could do but stare at her. Meanwhile, Shota burst into tears, his cries echoing in the large room.
His face emotionless, Nobuki stood up.
"Yue."
She glared at me, hatred so clear on the face that wasn't as beautiful anymore. With her hair crazy around her head, she reminded me of a Medusa. Terrified, I stepped back until the edge of my desk ground into my thighs.
"You stay the hell away from my son, got it? You're lucky I don't sue you for kidnapping."
I didn't know what to say. My mind was blank, and I put a shaking hand over my blazing cheek.
It occurred to me that I had done the exact same thing to Saki just a few days ago.
So this is how it felt.
In that moment, I had never wanted to call my sister more and apologize.
Was this karma?
With a huff, Yue turned around and grabbed Shota by the arm, and dragged him out, screaming at him for going off with a stranger.
Nobuki followed them, leaving me alone in the office, my mind still blank.
My cheek pulsed from the force of her blow, and I stumbled to the bathroom on the fourteenth floor. Luckily, it was empty and I soaked several paper towels in cold water, before putting it on my cheek, in the hopes of bringing down the redness.
I couldn't get the look on Shota's face out of my mind. Poor kid. He looked terrified. I hoped Yue wouldn't blame him for my transgression, but she didn't strike me as a particularly understanding mother.
I glared at my dull-eyed, red-faced reflection in the polished mirrors. "Shut up, Rika. You don't know anything about her. You're just jealous because you think she's taking Nobuki away from you. But the problem is, he was never yours to give away. You knew the deal before you got into this. Hell, you even signed a contract with him. Remember what Ayaka said. Sex has nothing to do with love. Love isn't worth it."
But telling myself out loud didn't help much with the doubts swirling in my mind.
I took a deep breath and wrung out the towels so they wouldn't drip on my clothes and trudged back to the office, the towels plastered to my cheek.
Drops of moisture dripped onto my collar, as I leaned back in my seat and stared up at the ceiling, trying to squelch down feelings of shame and self-doubt.
The note wasn't enough. I should have called Nobuki, regardless of who he was with.
To be honest, I didn't think they'd notice that Shota and I left. It had only been forty-five minutes since she dragged Nobuki off to God only knew where. It certainly didn't look like they were going out for a quick meal.
My face heated and my stomach wobbled precariously as I admitted what I thought they were doing: having sex.
The muscles under my cheek twitched and again, I felt a rush of shame for what I had subjected Saki to. If she never talked to me again, I thought I would have understood. I typed out a quick message on my phone, half-afraid that she would reply and half afraid she wouldn't.
I'm sorry. I hope you forgive me, Saki.
With a sigh, I slipped the phone back into my purse and turned back to the computer. There was no point in sitting there feeling sorry for myself and guilty as hell. Trying not to think about what Nobuki was doing, I threw myself into my work, all the while growing damper by the moment.
A few minutes later, the elevator pinged down the hall and slow, measured steps echoed on the hard floors. It sounded like Nobuki.
Unsure of how I was supposed to face him, I kept my face down, typing with one hand, while the other pressed the dripping towel to my pulsating cheek. My blouse sleeve was soaked all the way down to the elbow, and I was starting to feel waterlogged, but I would die before I said anything about it.
He stopped in front of my desk, and I pretended as though I couldn't see him while typing out a clumsy reply to someone in the Financial Department regarding royalties.
He held out something.
Unable to continue ignoring him, I turned away from my computer screen and stared at the frosty, lumpy plastic bag.
"Ice," I said weakly, the wet, now uncomfortably warm paper towels falling apart in my hand. "You didn't have to."
"Don't be stupid," he said curtly, coming around the table to stand next to me. "Turn around."
I held out my hand, getting a sneaky suspicion that I already knew what he had in mind. "It's okay. Thank you so much for the ice. I can take it from here."
"I hate telling a woman to shut up, as I consider myself somewhat a feminist," he said, his lips thinned. "So don't make me say it."
My gaze flicked to the main office door, the door that was never closed. "What if someone sees?"
"See what?" he asked and swiveled my seat around.
He dropped to one knee, his shoulder brushing my knee. "We're doing nothing wrong."
"Um…" I mumbled, trying to stay calm and focused. But with him this close, not just my cheek but my entire body went hot. I could already feel myself start to sweat.
Even though we had sex before, this was different. We were in the office and if anyone happened to walk in…
His brows flickered down as he pressed the small bag of ice gently against my left cheek. "Does it hurt?"
I shook my head wordlessly, my gaze wandering everywhere but on him.
He laughed. The low, raspy sound made my toes curl in delight. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed about this? After everything we've done?"
"This is different," I insisted. "We're not alone. What if someone walks in? What are they going to think?"
"I'll tell them that I'm helping my shell-shocked executive assistant after she was attacked."
The wall around my heart crumbled at his unexpected kindness. "I'm so sorry this happened. I should have called, but I didn't want to bother you."
His gaze slid away. "I don't know why you'd think a call wouldn't have been warranted. You've had no problems calling me in the past."
My cheek was starting to go numb from the ice, but I couldn't move away, not for all the money in the world.
Besides, Nobuki was never going to get down on his knees before me again.
I tugged on my earlobe and looked him in the eyes, knowing that I couldn't keep skirting around the truth any more. "I wasn't sure what your relationship was with Yue Kinou."
His brow quirked. "Interesting. I don't think I've told you her name, and she wouldn't have divulged her name easily. She would've given you a false name." A corner of his lips twisted up. "Ah, that's right. The illustrious Tadashi Murai from Editorial. Of course he would. You have some very interesting friends, Miss Hasegawa."
I didn't know what to say. "Well, I…"
"Did he tell you our history?" he asked.
Trying to keep his gaze was harder than I imagined. Talking to my lover about his past lovers was new territory for me and not a place I wanted to traverse. "I've heard some things."
He nodded. "Don't you want to ask me about them?"
Curiosity burned in my gut like spicy food, but I tamped it down. "It's none of my business."
"No," he agreed. "It's no one's business except for Yue and myself."
After a few minutes of sitting in a stifling, uncomfortable silence thick enough to chew on, I shifted in my chair, making the joints squeak. "My cheek feels better now."
Actually, I couldn't feel the whole left side of my face anymore, but if it put some distance between us…
He pulled the half-melted pack of ice from my cheek. "Seriously, does it hurt?"
I shook my head.
Like I said, it was numb, so I couldn't feel anything. "Thank you, Mr. Miyano. Once again, I apologize for causing so much trouble. She left Shota there, and I didn't know what to do. I wanted to take him some place fun."
He grimaced, a very human expression that almost never crossed his face. "I'm afraid Yue never cared much for anyone but herself."
Even though the left side of my face was numb from the ice, I still felt his touch as he turned my face to one side, his eyes narrowed. "It's red, but I can't tell if it's from the ice or her hand."
"It'll go away," I forced out through a tight throat, almost melting from his touch. It had been a few weeks since he had touched me and it didn't occur to me how much I missed it, craved it.
It was terrifying.
Our deal was just sex, no feelings whatsoever.
"Please, stop," I whispered, unable to meet his dark eyes.
"Stop what?"
His fingers drifted down to my chin, gently forcing it around so I could no longer avoid his gaze. "You don't have to be so nice."
He tilted his head to one side. "Am I?"
"I don't understand you," I said. "Sometimes I think you're a cruel monster, and I want you to get hit by a bus."
Instead of getting offended, my words seemed to amuse him. "Am I really so bad?"
I chewed on my lower lip. "But there are times when you show me so much kindness that it hurts."
"Do I?"
I nodded, my hands tightening around the arm rest, resisting the urge to touch him. "The medicine when I told you I wasn't feeling well. In LA, after Heather attacked me. Now this."
He looked away. "You must think I'm a real monster if those small things have such an effect on you. I'm sorry, Rika. I didn't want to cause you so much trouble. Not that Heather was ever my ex, but the women in my life seem crazy, don't they? I wonder what it says about me."
His words made my chest clench. "No! You're fine! It's me. I shouldn't make such a big deal out of this, but when you show me small acts of kindness like this, I get so confused. I wish I didn't, but then I remember our deal and I try to adhere to it. On the other hand, I just—"
Then his mouth was over mine, and I forgot how to breathe.
Something was different about this kiss. Soft, undemanding, it was the kind of kiss that I wished could go on forever. Even though I knew it was wrong, even though I knew I should've pulled away, I found myself leaning forward, my hands tightening into his crisp white shirt.
This was wrong.
No.
This was right.
Wait, what was I doing?
Lurid images of Aimi's skinny legs wrapped around Mr. Abe's fat, hairy torso flashed in my mind and jolted me out of the sweetness of Nobuki's kiss.
I pulled back, hands clenched tightly in my lap. "We shouldn't."
He sat back on his haunches, an unreadable expression on his handsome face. "You're right. We shouldn't."
I bit my lip hard. And yet, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I couldn't stop my fingertips pulsing with the want of him, couldn't stop tasting him on my lips, couldn't stop remembering how it felt to have his naked skin against mine.
"I don't want to be them," I whispered.
"Who?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to dispel the images of the past secretary and boss, trying to ignore their passionate cries ringing in my head. "You know. Mr. Abe. Aimi. The people before us."
A look I recognized as tenderness shone in his dark eyes as he brushed a lock of my hair behind one ear. His fingertips skimmed my earlobe, and I couldn't stop the tremor going through my body.
That one touch made me lean forward, almost brought me off the seat.
I missed his touch.
Missed his kisses.
Just…missed him.
And I didn't like it.
Why did he affect me so badly?
Why couldn't I take this for what it was and ignore everything else?
Why was I falling for him?
He tapped the tip of my nose, a corner of his lips tweaking up in a beguiling manner.
I didn't know he could look like that.
"Remember what we said?" His voice was like a brush of velvet against my skin. "No emotions. No entanglements."
My voice was hoarse. "No sex in the office."
He nodded.
"So, tell me," he said, his voice a raspy whisper against my heightened senses. "Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me you don't want this."
He curved a hand around my cheek and I closed my eyes, leaning into his soft touch, almost forgetting where we were.
God, but how I wanted to forget!
"If I do?" My eyes were still closed, because I knew that once I opened them, I'd know exactly where we were, and my better half, or rather my stupid half, would make me draw back. "What happens if I tell you to leave me alone?"
"Then I will. I'll leave you alone, and it'll be like the last ten minutes didn't happen."
But that wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to erase the last ten minutes. I wanted to keep it, treasure it, look back on it on cold winter nights in an empty, equally cold bed.
Aimi.
Mr. Abe.
Granted, now that I thought about it, there wasn't necessarily anything in our contract that forbade office sex, but still…
I didn't want to be another Aimi or Mr. Abe.
This had to be something more.
It had to be.
"So? What's it to be?"
Limbs heavy, moving slowly as though covered in honey, I put a hand over my sluggishly beating heart, telling myself there'd be no regrets.
No regrets.
No looking back.
"Don't." I licked my dry lips and opened my eyes, fully acknowledging where we were, what I was about to ask him to do.
"Don't?" One brow quirked up. "Don't what?"
A nervous laugh left my lips. He certainly wasn't going to make this easy for me, was he?
"Don't leave me alone," I said. "Please. Stay with me."
His dark gaze flitted to the open office door, the one that had never closed except at night, and then he stood up, a hand held out to me.
"No going back," he warned. "You understand that, right?"
I nodded, terrified despite myself.
"You can't come back and cry foul."
My laughter was shaky. "Same to you."
I slipped my hand into his and followed him into his office, closing the door behind us with my heel.
I thought about locking it, just in case, but his arms came around me, his mouth settling over that sensitive spot on my neck, underneath my ear, and I melted.
My hands tightened around his forearms as his fingers made quick work of the buttons running down my damp blouse, slipping underneath the waistband of my skirt, brushing the hemline of my panties before pulling the skirt zipper down.
The heavy material of the skirt brushed down my legs and pooled at my feet and I shuddered, drawing in a deep breath as he sucked my flesh deeply.
"You'll leave a mark," I murmured, putting up a token protest.
"Do you care?"
I didn't think about that one for too long. "No."
He nipped my neck hard enough to make me jump, sucking in a breath that made my insides feel as substantial as fog.
"Turn around."
I did as he asked, the back of my thighs pressing into the edge of his desk as he went down in front of me, the light from the blinds turning his dark eyes shades of amber and crimson.
For a moment, I saw something darker lurking in those depths and my thighs convulsed as he pressed a kiss to my quivering belly.
A small cry left my lips as I gripped the edge of his desk, my legs almost too weak to stand as he painstakingly, slowly pulled my frilly white panties down, leaving them crumbled in the nest of my skirt.
He drew in a deep breath, the smell of my sex redolent in the air that smelled faintly of coffee and cigarette smoke.
"Sit back on the desk."
I did it willingly because I didn't want to fall on top of him.
His eyes drifted shut as he kissed a path from my knees, up along the inside of my quivering thigh, and as he licked a long, slow line along the crease of my thigh, I thought I was going to go up in flames.
My skin felt hot, too hot as his mouth settled over my pulsating, throbbing sex and when his tongue flicked up along my clit, it brought me off the table, my hips jerking against his incessant mouth, the unrelenting lashing of his tongue.
I couldn't get away.
I couldn't get close enough.
Conflicting emotions rose in my chest as I pressed a hand against my mouth, trying to keep the rising cries from slipping out, as he used his mouth and fingers to bring me into an explosive climax. My world turned completely white, all the color sucked out around me as sparks of black danced along the edges of my vision.
Trembling, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, he pressed his mouth against mine, and I drank in deeply of his mouth, interlaced with my ocean taste that seemed all the more sweet on his tongue.
"What next?" he asked, his lips moving over mine.
The cool, air-conditioned air was tantalizing against my nakedness as I pushed my hips against his, painfully aware of his clothed state.
"I want you," I whispered, forgetting all sense of decorum. "I want to feel you inside me."
"As you wish."
With almost angry jerks, his clothes joined mine on the floor. As he slipped the tip of his cock into my liquid warmth, I drew in a breath, teeth gritted at his razor-sharp focus.
"You are such a sadist," I ground out, wrapping my legs around his hips in a vain attempt to force him in deeper, faster.
He gave me a feral grin. "You expected otherwise? You ought to know better by now."
But he obliged me, thrusting in so deep, so abruptly that it stole the breath from my lungs as I rode on waves of pleasure that seemed never-ending.
"Don't stop," I gasped, pussy clenching around his long, hard length, my hips moving against his. "Please, don't stop."
He didn't.
And when he came into me, his hips jerking into mine, it was with my mouth pressed against his, sucking the cry straight from him, my fingers entangled in the silken strands of his dark hair.
At that moment, I think I would have died happily.
There was no longer any doubt in my mind.
God help me, but I was in love with my boss and there was no more going back.