In Deep Kimchi (26 page)

“Gone,” Ichiro replied sheepishly. “She came to wish me luck.”

Yori used his thumb to wipe Shaundra’s lipstick from Ichiro’s lips. “Not your usual shade. Go fix yourself.”

Ichiro damn near floated back to the dressing room to have someone repair is makeup.

“Damn,” Yori replied. “It’s true.”

Satoshi gloated and nodded. “See. He must have been real good in bed last night if she’s sneaking out to meet him for a kiss.”

Yori raised his hands in the air in defeat. There was no way he could prove to either of them that nothing had happened between Ichiro and Shaundra last night without revealing that he had snuck over there to check on them.

Ichiro came back in just as their intro music began and followed them out onto the stage, taking his place next to Yori like everything was fine between them. An hour and a half later, Yori rushed off the stage and into the dressing room to change and remove his makeup.

Ichiro came in the room behind him to do the same thing.

“What are you in a hurry for?” Yori asked him.

“Date,” Ichiro replied. He wiped the makeup off like a pro, washed his face and then changed into some street clothes. He dashed out of the door, leaving Yori dumbfounded and pissed, and he hated feeling that way. Satoshi was right. It was all his fault.

But he didn’t have time to dwell on his misfortune. Yori left out of the back stage door and walked down an alley until he reached a walkway that led to the Dome Mall. Traffic from the concert still streamed from every direction, which he avoided, trying to make it back to the hotel without being noticed by the fans as they made their way home.

Yori jumped over a low hedge and then hurried up the walkway that led to the lit front of the Dome Hotel. He used his key card to let himself in and then hurried to the elevator and boarded it. Moments later, he exited on his floor, hoping not to run into Ichiro or Shaundra as he quietly turned the corner to his room.

Once inside, he took a quick shower, dressed and then telephoned the Saitamas. He had a decision to make tonight before they left in the morning. Did he want for things to remain the way they were or did he want to take a chance on something new? Hopefully, the answer would come to him tonight over dinner.

He closed his door and then went back downstairs to the lobby to wait for the Saitamas to arrive.

Chapter Fifteen

“How was the concert?” Shaundra asked Ichiro as she rode in a car next to him unaccompanied by guards. Ichiro was looking kawaii in a dark brown suit, crème-colored dress shirt and dark brown tie.

“A huge success,” he replied as he maneuvered his way through traffic. He was a really good driver and the little black sports car had a lot of horsepower. She smiled. Ichiro was a man of many surprises. “Another sold out concert. Mr. Niigata should be proud.”

She rode in silence for a moment, but curiosity got the best of her. “Are you supposed to be out here driving unchaperoned?”

“No,” he answered. “Mr. Niigata would have a fit if he knew.”

“But you’re out here anyway and rented a sensational sports car, as well. I don’t know why I thought you guys couldn’t drive. Must be the fact that Kenshin is always chauffeuring you around.”

“Yes, we all know how to drive. As for the other answer, I was in the mood to take a chance. Sometimes it’s good to do things out of the norm. Besides, I am a grown man. Having a contract does not make a person a slave.”

How well she knew that. “I’m not complaining. I think it’s nice.” She settled back against the soft leather seat while he put a CD into the player. His music choice surprised her. It was Lionel Ritchie. “Ooh, I like Lionel Ritchie.”

“I know,” Ichiro replied as he left the bridge they were crossing and drove onto an open highway. “I’ve read your biography on Facebook and MySpace. You also like Barry White, Elton John and the Beatles.”

“You pronounce their names so precise. How long have you been studying English?”

“Fifteen years. Satoshi began teaching us when the group formed and then we had formal lessons. Mr. Niigata has been preparing us for years for our United States debut.”

“How many other languages can you speak?”

“Too many,” he replied with a smile. “Sometimes I get mixed up. We’ve traveled so many places. But I like English and I can’t wait to visit the United States. We’ll be there for several months and then we’ll return back to Osaka.”

“I wished I had time to see Osaka. I’ve heard some really nice things about it.”

“We can sneak back there before the tour or you can extend your stay and travel back with us when we return.”

“Tempting, but I need to check on my home and family.”

“Maybe on your next visit then.”

Shaundra laughed. “I had to be drugged and put on a plane to come here. I don’t really know if I want to go through that again.”

Ichiro chuckled as he drove. “I heard the story from Masaaki. I got a big laugh out of it.”

“Yes, it did make an amusing tale.”

“Why are you afraid to fly?”

“I don’t think I have a fear of flying. I think it is more like a fear of dying.”

“Everyone has to die.”

“I know but I plan to go in my sleep. Falling thirty thousand feet is not an appealing way to meet my maker.”

He turned the car into a parking lot of a restaurant. The building was large and had a black, sloping, slate Japanese-styled roof, common to most buildings she’d seen. There were several cars, but not overly crowded. Ichiro turned off the engine, got out, walked around to her side of the car and helped her out.

“What is this place?”

“It’s called Daisuke's. It belongs to a friend of mine.”

They walked up the stairs and Ichiro held the door open for her to enter. It was like stepping back into history. The restaurant resembled an ancient Japanese eatery with rustic posts and windows. The dark walls had weapons and armor and old war costumes. Japanese lanterns hung from the ceiling that gave it a warm and semi-dark atmosphere. The waiters and waitresses wore kimonos. The men’s were black and the women wore bright red. The diners sat on the floor on pillows with short little tables before them. A waitress appeared and joked with Ichiro in Japanese as she led them through the restaurant. Women gasped as they recognized him. They bowed respectfully and one or two of them smiled brazenly even though Shaundra accompanied him. She was hit by a tinge of jealousy she didn’t expect, but quickly dispelled it. Other women ogling him was something she had to get used to if she planned to be in his company.

A man dressed in a white chef’s outfit appeared out of the kitchen door. He grabbed Ichiro and hugged him, which looked a bit odd because the man was shorter than Ichiro. They spoke to each other in Japanese. More and more, she regretted barely picking up the book Harper had given her to study.

Ichiro pulled her forward. “Sensei, this is my friend, Shaundra Morrison. She is a writer from America who has come to Tokyo to help Mr. Niigata open his new publishing company.”

The man bowed before her. “Always nice to meet a friend of Ichiro,” the man said in English.

Sensei, that means teacher
. Shaundra bowed back.

“This is Mr. Daisuke, my cooking mentor.”

Shaundra bowed again. “Pleased to meet you. I don’t speak Japanese.”

Mr. Daisuke laughed. “Leave it to Ichiro to fall in love with the only woman in Tokyo who does not speak Japanese.”

“Ichiro’s not in love with me,” Shaundra replied.

“Oh, no. You’re the first woman he’s ever brought to my restaurant.”

“That doesn’t mean…”

Ichiro stopped her. “Ms. Morrison and I are friends.”

Mr. Daisuke laughed again. “Yes, if you say so.” Behind him, the kitchen cooks were busy preparing meals in huge woks and roasting meat on large spits.

“Something smells delicious,” Shaundra said, trying to change the subject.

“The cooks have been working hard all day since they found out that Ichiro was coming. I always tell them that he was my finest student before he got into singing. They prepare good meals to impress him.” The master chef turned to the waitress that had returned. “Put Mr. Yoshida in a private dining room. He is on a date and he needs privacy.”

Shaundra smiled.

The waitress smiled back and nodded excitedly. “This way, please.”

Shaundra followed the young woman down the hall to another room. This one was smaller and out of the way of any disturbance. There were pillows on the floor that caused her some concern. Tan Japanese lanterns hung from the ceiling to give it a romantic atmosphere. Ichiro said something to her and the young woman bowed and left.

“This is nice,” Shaundra said. Ichiro helped her down onto the pillows. The skirt she wore rose up on her hips and she had to shift her weight to pull the hem down her thighs. The act did not go unnoticed by Ichiro.

“You have very beautiful legs.”

“Thanks.” It would have been easier to put them under the table if it had legs, which it didn’t, so she had the choice of either kneeling or sitting sideways to keep from flashing Ichiro. She opted for the side sitting.

Ichiro sat cross-legged on the other side of the table.

The waitress returned carrying a tray with a decanter and two small cups. She poured some of the liquid into the cups, and then placed the decanter in front of Ichiro. She left the room again.

“What is this?”

“Sake,” Ichiro answered, picking up the tiny cup and sipping. “It is a very smooth drink.”

Shaundra picked up the cup and sampled. It was warm and possibly the worst thing she’d ever tasted.

Ichiro laughed. “It is an acquired taste.” He polished off his drink and then reclined on the pillows to watch her.

God, he truly looked scrumptious, she thought. She unloosened his hair with her mind, imagining it sprawled out on her pillow. She sipped the sake again and made a face.

Ichiro chuckled. “It’s not supposed to be served when you’re having rice, but Mr. Daisuke knows that I like it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it is considered equal to a rice dish, so usually, you don’t have the two at the same time.”

“I will remember that.”

He continued to watch her. “What are you thinking?”

“About how your hair would look spread out on my pillow.”

Ichiro raised an eyebrow. “I did not expect you to say that.”

“Did I surprise you?”

“Very much so. “

Her entire body sizzled as she peered down into his fathomless blue peepers. “You have exquisite eyes.”

The waitress returned before he could reply, but he could not hide the smile. He sat up. The waitress placed a bowl of rice to her and Ichiro’s left and a bowl of Miso soup at their right. Behind the rice and soup, she placed three flat plates of meat, and then a bowl each of pickled vegetables to the side.

The chopsticks were placed at the very front of her tray with the pointed ends facing left on the chopstick rest. The waitress left for a moment and then returned with hot towels for them to cleanse their hands. She left again, this time for good.