Akira Tong for Christmas (16 page)

“Yes, we are here to see the New Year,” Anna yelled.

“Joya no Kane?” He pulled an invisible string in the air. “See big bell ringing?” He reached back with a stack of small papers. “You take?
Otoshidama?
You give money to little children?” He nodded.

She took the papers and nodded, then yelled, “Take us to Budget Inn, please.” I jabbed her. “He’s not deaf.”

She jabbed me back but didn’t comment.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up at the low-roofed building. “Wow, this isn’t the Mandarin,” I muttered.

Anna opened the door. “No, it’s the fifty-dollars-a-night hotel; that’s what it is.” We dragged our luggage into the lobby. “Fifty dollars seems kinda steep for this place.” I glanced around at the gaudy gold walls trimmed with frayed and peeling wallpaper.

Anna stopped and stared at me with her giant sunglasses. “Why are we here?” she reminded me.

I sighed, and she approached the counter, boobs first. She took off her glasses. “Hi, we’re from America,” she sang sweetly. “For the New Year’s celebration?”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Thank goodness he spoke fluent English. He bent over and searched beneath the counter, then produced several sheets. “You will find all of the local attractions on here with their details.

If you have any questions at all, please feel free to ask.”

“Awww, that’s sweet.” She leaned on the counter, one of her legs bending at the knee. “Has anybody ever told you that you could be Bruce Lee’s twin?”

I watched her, stunned. I couldn’t believe my sister behaved this way. She’d assured me she wasn’t the call girl that one man implied she was, but seeing her now, I had my doubts. Maybe not call girl, but slut all the way. “Hey, Ethel, could you please get the key? Lucy’s about to drop dead here.”
My God, look at that guy
. ’Bout to have a damned orgasm right there behind the counter. Anna threw her head back and laughed, then reached out and squeezed his upper arm. “Oh, my, you certainly are fit.”

“Key!” I yelled.

She took the key from the counter, tucked a paper in her blouse, then smiled and fluttered her fingers in a cutesy wave. She turned and tripped over the luggage behind her. I couldn’t keep my laughter from bursting out. “That’s what we call American sexy,” I said to the man who seemed ready to jump the counter to help her.

Anna laughed it off graciously until she rounded the corner. “Can’t believe you laughed at me,” she gritted.

I snickered quietly. “What in God’s name were you doing back there?”

“Making connections,” she hissed.

“Oh, please. The only connection I saw you making was his penis in your coochie.” She gasped. “My, Sarah has become a real woman.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just ’cause I’ve had sex doesn’t make me more or less qualified to know what you’re up to.” My voice dropped to a near whisper with those last words as memories assaulted me.

“Oh, you will tell me as soon as we get settled what that was like.” She’d been graciously refraining from nagging me for the details since we left the Mandarin, but I could see my grieving time was over. She’d want to hear all. And my goodness, I could scarcely wait to tell her.

Anna opened the door and sashayed in while I slaved with the bags. “Excuse me, Ms. Jolie, can you help here?”

She spread her arms as if we’d entered the Ritz. My God, what was wrong with this woman?

“Anna, what in the hell are you so excited about?”

“Are you kidding? Do you know how many amazingly hot Asian guys they have here?” She tore off her bug-eyed shades, opened her arms wide, and fell back on the bed, grinning at the sad little ceiling like it was paradise.

I sat on the bed next to her, the challenge of Japan and all it meant weighing my head down. “Now what?” I flopped back next to her and stared beyond the water stains on the ceiling and into the abyss of insecurities raging in my mind. I’d made a mistake; this wouldn’t work. Akira didn’t love me. He’d come to his senses. How could I ever think he’d be happy with me, some girl from a pathetic cow town? He’d been lavished with opulence all his life in the most beautiful land in the world; of course he’d made the right choice leaving my world.

Anna grabbed my hand and raised it triumphantly between us. I turned and met her emerald and, as usual, confident stare. I allowed myself to take in a deep breath of her courage. Anna was here. We could do this. Even if I failed, I’d be able to say I tried.

“What do we do first?” I whispered.

“For starters, let’s find out what the heck goes on around here at New Year’s.” She got up and grabbed one of the papers and handed me one. She sat with hers and muttered and mumbled like a monk for five minutes.

Exhaustion settled on me as I held the paper in my lap.

“Well, most businesses shut down from January first to the third, so that means Akira will be off.

Gives you a chance to get things done.” She sighed and continued her monotone mumbling and inserting blah-blahs in place of things she didn’t deem important. “Yes, yes, okay, I think I got this.” She tossed the paper and flopped onto her back.

“You’re going to remember all that?” I asked.

“Eh, probably not. But Google is our friend. We’ll look up whatever we need. Basically their New Year’s is like…our Sabbath. Except longer. With…particular activities that involve cleaning in some form or another. Clean house, clean mind, clean heart, clean spirit, and that’s how you have a happy New Year.” She sighed.

I lay back on the bed next to her.

“We’re both jet-lagged. Let’s get some sleep and start fresh?”

“Mmmm” was all I managed.

* * * *

“Hey, wake up. It’s Friday,” Anna whispered, sitting next to me on the bed. “I was thinking. We need to try this today. ’Cause Monday is New Year’s Eve, and I doubt he’ll work, so today is
the
day.” I bolted up at hearing that. Shit.

“Okay, remember the plan? Dress you up like a geeky businessman, you take the texture palette for him to sample, and once you get him alone, you find out who the hell he thinks he is, dumping you the same day he proposes.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath, then covering my eyes. “What…do I need to know again?”

“You need to know,” she said delicately, like I might fly to pieces any second, “why did he leave without telling you? Why is he marrying that woman and not you? And maybe does he have a hot cousin?” I ignored that last remark. “I hardly think your ZZ Top ensemble you’ve packed is geeky.”

“Well, the long hair and beard make you look more like a—”

“Drug-head hippie,” I finished.

“Not in a suit. You’ll look distinguished, and it’s not a long beard. It’s just a goatee.” I sighed. “More like a California version of a rabbi.”

“As long as you don’t look like a woman.”

“But if I’m dressed as a freak, they’ll be suspicious for other reasons.” She slapped her lap, annoyed. “Like what? A bleached Jewish rabbi bomber? You’re being paranoid.”

“Fine, let’s get this over with.”

An hour later, I was staring at the strange reflection. “Wow. I do look like a man.” How depressing.

“Oh, stop. Only ’cause I’m so good at this.” She clapped her hands rapidly in prideful satisfaction.

“Those brown contacts did the trick. Now let’s hear your manly voice.”

“Hello, Mr. Tong.”

She bit her lower lip. “Less gruff.”

I cleared my throat. “Hello, Mr. Tong.”

She beamed and clapped. “Perfect. Do it again.”

I did. And again and again. Then we practiced other lines. Then I studied my cheat sheet for my fake business. Then we headed out.

“Can’t you come with me?” I begged before she shut the door.

“No! I look exactly like you.”

“Not when you’re dressed as Angelina Jolie!” I grabbed her arm. “Please, Anna. Two is better than one. I beg you, don’t make me do this alone. If anything, you could at least distract with your boobs?” I suggested, hopeful.

She gagged out her feigned offense, but she clearly knew I was right. Several huffs later, she muttered, “Fine.” Then opened the door and went back into the room with me groveling in gratitude.

We left again, and I was much less nervous. “Thank you, Anna. Thank you, thank you.”

“Start practicing your voice. It’s kinda weird to hear feminine out of your mouth now.” She regarded me with disdain. “And you need a few masculine quirks.”

“Like what?” I deepened my voice. “Like what?”

She hailed a cab parked a few feet away. “I don’t know, like…touching yourself.”

“What?”

“I mean like stroking your beard or something.”

“Like this?” I made my voice deep and quirked one of the bushy brown brows while sliding a hand over my matching six-inch beard.

She held her head back, studying me with those giant bug-eyed glasses. “Yeah, guess that’ll have to do. Don’t forget your voice from here on out.” She opened the cab door, and we got in with our briefcases and satchels.

“Can you take us to the nearest car rental, please?”

“Ah, yes, very good.”

Anna nodded at the driver with a smile, and twenty minutes later, we were finally on our way in the rented car.

“Aren’t we an odd couple,” I muttered, checking out the cluttered city as she carefully navigated.

“Feel like Inspector Clouseau on crack in this little shitty car. Can’t believe they gave us this.”

“Honey, New Year’s in Japan. Be grateful we didn’t have to rent a bike at this date. And as far as your looks…” She glanced at me several times. “You’re actually damn cute, now that I think about it.”

“Oh, great. Just what I need.”

“Cute never hurts,” Anna said.

“Unless you’re being seduced by a vagina.” God, that would be terrible.

“We’re in and out. Don’t worry. All you need is a few minutes alone with him, and we’re done till we figure out the next step.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Wow!” I muttered, gazing wide-eyed at the enormous skyscraper of a building. “Can’t believe they own that. How on earth will we find him in there?”

Anna turned into the parking garage. “I got my laptop. We’ll just Google it.”

“Ugh, Google? You can’t Google their work schedule.”

“Honey, you forget who you’re talking to.” She pulled into a spot and turned off the little car. Only it didn’t turn off. We sat there for ten seconds, waiting for the piece of junk to sputter right apart. We screamed when it finally died with a loud backfire.

Clutching our chests, we glanced around, then at each other, and busted out laughing. “Happy New Year.” Anna snickered and squealed. “Look, we’re not going to get an appointment via standard avenues, so I may have to use a little grease to get you to his office.”

“Speaking of that, where exactly would that be?”

She pulled her laptop out of the bag. “That I can find out, I’m sure.” Her long nails ticked on the keyboard. “Here we go. Shinjuku skyscraper…fifty-five stories… Come on, tenants, tenants,” she mumbled, scanning the page.

“Can’t you just ask? I’m figuring it’s fine that we don’t know exactly where his office is in this huge facility.”

“You’re right.” She shut it and put it all away. “I’ll just ask for directions.”

“Or read the signs. No doubt they’ll have one of those thingies that tells you where everything is.”

“Yeah.” She waved it off. “We’ll figure it out.”

We walked into the lobby, and I followed Anna to an elevator. Next to it, on the black marble wall, was a list of names. In Japanese. “Great.”

She pressed the door, and a few minutes later it dinged.

“Now what?” I asked after we entered.

She huffed and twirled her finger over the fifty-five numbers on the pad and landed it on twenty.

I groaned.

“You got any better ideas?”

She held tight to the black satchel, looking all the more like Angelina Jolie in her tight black dress and voluptuous bosom. A twinge of jealousy niggled me at the idea of Akira seeing her that way. What if he recognized my features in hers? Surely he’d know it wasn’t me when his eyes hit her chest. They’d better not linger, or I’d kill him.

The door opened, and a woman entered. Anna acted. “Excuse me, but could you tell us which floor Mr. Tong’s office is on?”

“Ah, this called
ni-juu-go kai?
Number twenty and five?” She nodded, brows raised.

“Twenty-five!” Anna smacked her forehead. “I knew this and forgot. Thank you. How is Mr. Tong, by the way?” Anna’s voice softened to regretful. “Has he been grieving? For his father?” The Japanese woman seemed flustered with the question.

I deepened my voice with a cough. “We’re, uh, here from America to show him some fabric.

Swatches. Fabric swatches.”

“Ahhh, yes. Mr. Tong is very well, I think. I am scheduled for meeting with him in one hour. I can show you to his secretary?”

“Splendid!” Anna pressed the button for the twenty-fifth-floor. “I was afraid we might miss him with the New Year’s holiday upon us.”

“Ah.” She smiled and bowed a little. “Today is last day for work. We do not return until the three of January.”

“January third, very nice. We cannot wait to celebrate the New Year here. Ain’t that right, Jessie.” Anna stared at me, and I finally figured out she was talking to me. Jessie? Really? “Of course, of course,” I sputtered deeply, stroking my beard and nodding. “Excited indeed.” The door dinged, and the woman exited while pointing to the huge receptionist desk taking up an entire wall. “She can help you. Very nice to meet you. Enjoy your stay in Japan.” She bowed, like, three times as she retreated.

We walked to the receptionist desk. “Try to walk like a man, for crying out loud,” Anna whispered, barely moving her lips.

Shit, how? I lengthened my strides a little.

“I said man, not Neanderthal!” She bloomed into utter feminism as she approached the desk. “Hello, we’re here to see Mr. Tong? We’re from America’s Milliken and Company?” The woman scanned her computer screen, slim brows furrowed, head shaking a little. She turned to Anna. “You have scheduled this appointment?” She sounded terrified. Like she might get fired for missing such an important thing.

Anna waved. “Mr. Tong was just in America,” she whispered to the woman. “He asked me to mail these, but that’s not how we do business, and I felt that the least we could do was make a personal appearance after what he’s just been through. We treat our customers like family, and he did say we were welcome to visit anytime.”