Carli
“Thanks for lunch. It was...entertaining.” Leaning against the rental, legs crossed at the ankles, arms across his chest, Jamieson looks sexy as hell.
Dropping me back at my car without another word, I feel like an asshole for how I closed off when he asked something very innocent. It’s enough that I want to apologize, but I won’t. We were having a good time. It was amicable and sweet, and I had to ruin it by clamming up as he asked about me.
Chicken much, Carli? Yep. That’s me.
Afraid to get close. Yes. Hell yes.
Fearful of bringing someone else into my crazy and dangerous world of family drama? Of course. Hell, even my best and only friend will never know my past and current situation if I have a say in it. Now that Kato has come around, though, I have the feeling I’ll have to divulge info to Circe. That is, if I do as he says.
“Anytime you want a dinner date, I’m more than happy to stand in.” His stance is open, and without an ounce of sarcasm.
Wow, Crown can be sweet.
Shrugging, I pull my keys out of my bag and smile. “Thanks, but I’ll only be around once in a while as Circe repairs.” He may not know the difference, but I’m being genuine. This day wasn’t forced. “It was nice, Crown. Maybe if I’m around and you’re free, I might take you up on that offer.”
“Sure,” he says, not believing I’ll follow through. “We’ll play it by ear then, huh?”
“Sounds good.” Unlocking my car and turning back to him with the door slightly open, I say, “It was nice seeing you eat twigs and berries. Tell me the truth, though, you—”
“Never done it in my life. Surprising you was worth the still empty stomach.” Walking toward me, showering me with that enigmatic smile of his, Jamieson bends forward and stands close. The heat of his body, the smoldering gaze that tells me he wants to strip me where I stand has me wanting him to ask. I’d fold myself into his arms in a heartbeat, work be damned.
Then he takes a step back. “Have a good flight.” Smiling, he turns away, leaving me standing there with wet dreams.
Hopping in my car, pulling into traffic and making my way back toward LAX and the long-term parking, I start the mental gymnastics. I’ve been away from the governor for a whole week, and I have a ton of catch up to do. I’ll need all the daytime I can get to make his persona perfect once more. I’m sure he’s done someone or something in a precarious way for his polished look to be tarnished. I work so hard on making him seem the consummate husband, man, and dutiful Governor of the State. He fucks up so often, I’m in constant repair mode, just to keep him out of the tabloids.
With the ride through town being relatively quick, I make my way through Venice Beach and hit the freeway to the airport. Once there, I hand the valet my keys, grab my bag from the back seat and stand to the side, waiting for Jorge to hand me my ticket.
“Please, be careful with it. I doubt you want to wax it again.”
“Promise to park it in the interior this time, Miss.” Flicking apart the ticket, Jorge pockets the other half.
“Thank you, Jorge. I hate that I had to go all Zena on your boss.” And I did. That weasel ran for the comfort of the locked booth faster than I thought he could. Even in heels, I beat his ass to the door, reminding him that my car deserved more attention than a cheap Civic. He changed his tune as I dialed the owner of the Hilton. Handing him my phone, the overly furry man accepted a tongue lashing from his boss. Chico or Fucko, I can’t really remember his name as it didn’t matter, groveled quite well afterward. Placing me in a very expensive rental, they waxed my Jag from top to bottom. He understood I meant business when I said “Don’t park near the awning. If there’s bird shit on my car, you’ll be licking it up.”
“Don’t fuck it up, Jorge.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hopping in the car, adjusting the seat for his short legs, I tap the window before he drives off.
“Don’t change the station, Jorge.”
His eyes bug out as he considers the consequences. Ten to one, he was about to, but he nods and rolls the window up, leaving me standing on the pavement as he drives away.
Walking in, heading to security, I’m impressed. The usual long lines are almost tolerable. Last time I had to wait behind a man who lacked a hygiene routine. His eau de Wild Turkey and body sweat was deplorable. Moving to the front, I quickly prep for the inspection. Might as well ask us to strip naked nowadays, what with the removal of shoes, belts, rings, watches, and hairpins. Soon they’ll have small change rooms for us each to pass through with knickers only.
If only I wore them.
Passing through quickly and hitting my departure gate in record time, I get to the seating area with a few minutes to spare. Checking my emails and texts again before heading through the last checkpoint, I find not much has changed. Replying to a few from the governor, a couple from the NRA reps that wanted a meeting with him tomorrow, and a couple from his daughter needing more money for college, all is as it should be in my life.
“Kaori.”
Again?
I don’t bother turning. “Really? Don’t you take smoke breaks?” I’m exasperated by the audacity of Kato jumping me in the airport.
“Kaori, you need to stop this foolishness.” His voice is even, and filled with malice.
“Kill me or leave me alone. I’m not going back, and threatening my sisters won’t change it.” Moving toward the boarding kiosk, Kato follows on my heels.
“It’s not an idle threat. Both of the girls are on lockdown until the end of the week. You arriving is the only thing that will change that.”
Are you fucking kidding me? Really? Now family has gone a step too far, holding my sisters’ hostage. None of this is their fault, and they were never intended for this position. I may not want it, but I don’t want to leave them to the fate of marrying old men who won’t love or appreciate them.
“Kato, I have to go to work.” Handing the steward my boarding pass, I move forward. “Unless you’re going to Indianapolis, I suggest you head off, Jiji.”
Grabbing me by the arm as I take my passport back, Kato looks ready to murder me on the spot for my flippant quip. I in essence called him an old man in a not so friendly term. He deserved it. He’s acting like my father, and that’s the last thing I would refer to him as with any term of endearment. He knows that my comparison was not meant in a nice way.
“Excuse us,” he says with a tight smile to the steward at the kiosk.
Tightly grinning with a hint of sarcasm, I say, “I’ll be right back,” before anything escalates. The look on his face echoes his fear for me, but he doesn’t pick up the phone in front of him. I’ll consider that a win.
Leading me away and to the side, I yank my arm from his grip. “Kato—”
“No, Kaori, you don’t speak right now.” Steam rises off his words as he spits them succinctly in Japanese. “The position is and will always be yours, and Oyabun expects you will be there.”
“I never asked for the position or the branding.”
“Yet you have the wealth that keeps you in the lifestyle you desire. You don’t deny it.”
Got me there. “Cut me off then. I don’t need the money that bad.”
“Kaori, this was not your sisters’ fates, and they don’t belong there. You know this. Fulfill it, or there will be repercussions.”
“And if I flat out refuse it? Will you make them?”
Hanging his head slightly, fully exasperated with my denial of the fate that is mine, he announces, “He’s dying. There will be no choice.”
Damn.