Broken Storm Part One (3 page)

T
he rain drenched her, trailing down her hair and
dripping down the back of her collar.

She did not bother huddling against it; let it rain
for all she cared.

The cool of it took the remaining heat out of her
cheeks.

Her heels slapping through the puddles, her hands
in her pockets, Keiko walked with her eyes locked on the ground.

That had been truly embarrassing.

Again.

She brought up a hand and wiped the water pooling
along her nose. She let her fingers press over her eyes as she shook her head.

She was going to walk all the way home, dump her
wet clothes in the shower, and have a bath. A long one. One where she would
stare at the mirror above the sink and confess her sins, inadequacies, and
faults.

There was a clap of thunder from above, and it
rolled down the street, shaking the glass of the tall buildings around her.

Keiko didn’t flinch.

A gust of wind, hard and fast, rushed towards her.
It howled, plastering her skirt against her legs, sending more water dripping
form her hair down her back.

She didn’t huddle against it.

Men might frighten her, parties might give her
hives, but the weather could not.

In a way, she liked it. The rain and wind and lightning.
She felt at home. She could have taken the subway or called a taxi, but walking
through the elements was exactly what she needed.

Keiko looked up, getting ready to cross the street.

She saw a low, sleek, silver car turn down the road.
It’s headlights, dipped low, flashed through the puddles, the red blink of its
indicator reflecting off the wet glass of the building beside her.

She thought nothing of it, until it pulled up just
beside her.

She walked past.

The door opened.

Someone called her name.

It was lost on the wind.

At that moment a shot of it raced through the
street. It caught her skirt and hair and whipped them around her like a fan.
Marilyn Munroe eat your heart out, at that moment Keiko felt like she was stuck
in a tornado.

It passed, and tugging on her skirt, making sure
the wet layers of fabric sat tight against her legs, she went to cross the
street.

Someone got out of the car.

‘Keiko, excuse me,’ they called.

Though the wind roared again, this time she turned.

Mr Chase Harlow had just jumped out of his car. He
was leaning on the door, his suit and white shirt now running with water as the
rain drenched down from above. It tracked and dribbled over his cheek bones and
collected along the strong edge of his jaw.

She stood there, blinking at him.

He’d said her name, right?

He motioned her forward with his arm, huddling his
head down as the rain began to pour.

Keiko didn’t move. In fact, it was not until he
left his car, door open, rain driving in, and rushed up to her that she did
anything.

‘Chase Harlow, we met at the party,’ he offered her
his hand.

Keiko looked at it, lips parting in confusion.

Could you blame her? She was
confused
. Gorgeous
billionaires did not usually chase her down in the street to shake her hand.

‘Ah,’ she stammered.

‘You must be freezing,’ he gestured towards his
car, ‘you need a lift?’

She didn’t react again.

Why was Mr Harlow of Harlow Company Holdings even
talking to her?

He kept on looking at her, obviously expecting some
kind of reply, anything more than Keiko just standing there, rain dribbling
down her face as she stared at him with a slightly open mouth.

‘I’m sorry I was pulled away at the party,’ he
tried, ‘we never got to finish talking about... Aiko.’

At the mention of that name, a gust of wind so
strong it was almost hurricane force swept through the street. It plastered
against Keiko, her hair whipping so hard and fast around her face, it slammed
into her cheeks and made them sting. It also pushed her forward, her high heels
stumbling against the slippery and uneven pavement.

She lost her footing.

But she didn’t fall. Chase Harlow quickly leaned
out a hand and grabbed her arm, fixing her in place.

‘God damn, we better get out of this wind,’ he
said, bringing a hand up to protect his own face.

Get out of the wind with Chase Harlow of Harlow
Enterprises? Why was he even here?

He gestured to his car again, even tugging ever so
slightly on her arm as he still fixed her in place.

‘What do you want?’ she managed. It was a terribly
blunt thing to say, and despite the chill of the wind and rain, Keiko was sure
she blushed as she realized how rude it was.

‘I’m a collector,’ he tried to say. But his words
were mumbled and practically indiscernible over the roar of the wind.

At that moment the rain drenched down harder too,
slamming all around them in thick, fat drops.

Though Keiko really did love the weather, and
enjoyed nothing more than a good, ferocious storm, this one was getting a
little too much even for her.

She did not however run straight to the open sports
car in front of her.

She didn’t know the man.

At all.

So she wasn’t going to get in his car just because
he had found her on the street. Instead she ran underneath a nearby awning.
Chase followed.

When they were safely under the awning, he repeated
again that his car was just there. ‘I can give you a lift to wherever you need
to go,’ he added.

Keiko, water dripping down her face, through her
jacket, over her dress, and completely drenching the fancy white lacy knickers
that were meant to make men fall to their knees in front of her, slowly shook
her head. ‘I don’t know you,’ she pointed out in a quiet voice.

He didn’t move for a moment, then he nodded his
head. ‘Sorry, I guess that was quite forward.’ Then he seemed to hesitate for a
moment. He looked at her, up at the billowing sky above, and then over to his
car. He ran over to it, though he didn’t get in and speed away. He closed the
door, locked it, and then ran back to her awning.

Through it all Keiko watched, her lips gently
parted and slightly wobbly.

What exactly was happening here?

Billionaires usually never chased her down in a storm
and offered her rides or stood next to her under leaking awnings.

‘There is a cafe just across the street,’ he said
in a loud voice that made it over the wind as he pulled up his arm and pointed
to one of the few shops that still had lights on. ‘We can wait out the worst of
it.’

For a second Keiko wasn’t sure what she should do.
Should she walk away, call a taxi, or go and have coffee with the billionaire?

Frowning to herself, she looked up at him for a
moment.

Serial killer? She really doubted it. Everybody
knew who Chase Harlow was, and he would probably be too busy running one of the
world’s top Fortune 500 companies to run around picking up women in the rain only
to murder them.

So she nodded her head and she walked across the street
with him.

The wind buffeted and roared and became all the
more violent as she did, and several times it practically pushed off her feet
and she stumbled right into the man. But he never pushed her away, and just
leaned against her, or propped her up with a hand until the two of them were
out of the worst of it and finally into the shop.

The place obviously had its heat on full bore,
considering the weather outside, and as Keiko walked in, the warmth was a
godsend. She shivered against it, bringing a hand up to wipe the water off her
face. Then she stopped. She looked down at the enormous puddle she was making
over the floorboards.

‘Oh my God, I am so sorry,’ she mumbled, looking up
sharply at the several wait staff dotted around the shop before her.

But no one came over, handed her a mop, and told
her to clean it up and get outside. The lady behind the counter however did
give Chase a dignified nod, following it up with a broad smile as she walked
over to him. ‘Mister Harlow, the usual?’

‘The usual, but can I also have a towel? Actually,
make that two,’ he said as he flicked his gaze towards Keiko.

The woman gave another smile, and then turned
around and walked off quickly.

Which just left Keiko with Chase Harlow.

At that point Keiko was more than thankful that she
had just been through a storm and was soaked to the skin. Because as she shook
a little, no one could tell it was through embarrassment and not chill.

Chase directed her towards a table in the far
corner, and as she walked, water dripped from her skirt and jacket, trailing
down her legs, pooling in the base of her high heels, and then dripping onto
the floor. She sat with a completely unattractive squelch. Then she concertedly
pushed her hair behind her ears and stared at the window beside her, only
glancing his way once.

‘Sorry about this,’ he mumbled.

She gave him an awkward smile, now tucking her hair
almost compulsively behind her ears. She needed distraction, anything to get
her mind off who was sitting right in front of her.

He cleared his throat. ‘Now we’re out of that party
and that storm,’ he said with a curious inflection to his voice, ‘let me start
again. My name is Chase Harlow, I’m a collector,’ he pushed his hand out, reaching
it over the table.

For a moment she stared at it aghast, then, because
she could hardly bat it away with the salt or sugar bowl, she grabbed it
lightly.

He did all the shaking. A swift, strong, and
reassuring move that left a tingle along her palm and fingers.

Tucking her hand neatly on her lap, she pressed her
lips thin. ‘Keiko,’ she managed, even though it was pointless; he already knew
her name.

‘Do you have a last name? Or are you some kind of rap
star or Brazilian soccer player?’

He was trying to make a joke, albeit a lame one,
but it had the exact opposite effect on Keiko. It made her more mortified.
‘Teshi,’ she mumbled.

‘Nice to meet you Keiko Teshi.’ With that he turned
as the woman returned with two towels. He took them and handed one to Keiko.

‘That storm came out of nowhere. I read the weather
report for tonight, clear blue skies,’ he said as he began to pat down his
hair, neck, and face.

Keiko tried very hard not to stare. His neck
muscles were strong and pronounced, and that was nothing to speak of the
beautiful line of his jaw.

‘What do you want to drink? You must be freezing,’
he tried to strike up a conversation again, and although he was doing a valiant
job, he obviously had no idea how freaked out Keiko was by the whole thing.

She mumbled she was fine, but Chase obviously
didn’t take that for fact, and turned around to order her a hot chocolate.

‘I’m sorry for being forward, but I have always had
a personal interest in... the shrine goddess of the wind,’ he said in a low
voice, and a hesitant one too. He quickly flicked his eyes to the left, his gaze
darting out of the windows at the wind and rain-soaked streets beyond.

‘I thought Aiko was just an ordinary goddess,
nothing that interesting,’ Keiko managed.

Was it just her, or at the mention of Aiko’s name,
did Chase Harlow stiffen? Did the look in his eyes change, did the strength in
his body waiver?

‘I’ve always had a thing for goddesses,’ he said
with a chuckle, then proceeded to shake his head quickly, ‘sorry, that sounded
kind of creepy. Let me explain. I have an extensive collection of Japanese art,
and my favorite pieces happen to be reliefs and statues of goddesses and female
spirits. The artwork and the mastery is incredible.’

As he spoke, he lost a little of the hard edge and
a little of the untouchable quality that had surrounded him at the party. He
was no longer disinterested and bored out of his brains; the sparkle in his eye
was a genuine one.

He was like a schoolboy talking about his stamp
collection. Except Chase Harlow was no schoolboy, and his collection was worth
a little more than the occasional stamp, pen, or bottle, no doubt.

‘You said your family had a shrine, is it still
there?’ his voice became tight.

‘I guess... I’m not sure. I’ve never been back,’
Keiko said as she brought a hand up, patting the towel across her brow. For a
moment she wanted to keep it there and hide behind it, but of course she let it
drop.

‘Does your family still own the property?’

‘My grandmother does,’ Keiko said in a small voice.

‘Is your grandmother back in Japan?’

‘No,’ Keiko shook her head, ‘she is in a nursing
home. She hasn’t been back for years either.’

‘Sorry to sound like the Spanish Inquisition here,
it’s just,’ he shook his head for a second, his jaw stiffening as his hand
clutched a little tighter around the towel, ‘there something missing from my
collection.’

It was an odd thing to say, and it got Keiko’s
attention. For a second she forgot her embarrassment, and she looked straight
up at him. ‘What?’

It was Chase Harlow’s turn to drop his gaze from
Keiko, and it settled somewhere on the table, possibly the salt shaker or the
sugar bowl. His eyes became almost glassy, and he brought a hand up and started
playing with his jaw, his other one rested on the table as he drummed his
fingers. ‘A picture,’ he mumbled.

‘A picture of what?’

‘The goddess of the wind,’ his gaze drifted up, out
the window, and towards the street outside.

Keiko watched the movement carefully.

Was it just her, or did the competent, rich, in-control
billionaire suddenly look vulnerable?

He soon snapped his gaze around, and whatever
emotion had passed over him was gone. He cleared his throat again. ‘It could be
worth a lot of money,’ he said through a stiff smile.

‘I thought she was a very small-time spirit,’ Keiko
mumbled, but as she did, she shivered past an odd feeling that collected in her
gut. Though she hadn’t felt cold seconds before, suddenly she almost felt
frozen. Bringing her hands up and running them over her arms, she huddled
closer into the towel.