2. Ashton
Iwasn’t sure what I thought of the woman on the screen before me. This was our third meeting in two months and the desperation was starting to set in.
“I can sense your apprehension, but I need you to trust me.”
Scanning her appearance, I noted she was wearing a dark green blouse with white polka dots, and around her neck was a decorative necklace with a peacock on. It was an extravagant piece of jewelry, but it seemed to suit her very well.
Blowing out a breath, I controlled my features that threatened to shift into a snarl. Truth was, I needed her but I could never let her know that.
“Ms. May, I reviewed the potential candidates, and I just don’t think any of the women fit what I’m looking for.”
Slowly, I watched as the woman swept her freshly cut black bangs out of her face. I knew they were freshly cut because our last meeting, she hadn’t had any.
I paid attention because I couldn’t afford not to.
“Again, I need you to trust the process,” her brightly painted red lips curled into an uneasy smile and it seemed overly fake. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Can I share something with you…”
She paused as if she were unsure if she should go any further.
Nodding, I watched as she touched at her bangs again. “I was married before. It didn’t end so well and so that was when I conceived the concept of my company, Mr. Tanaka.”
She began to flicker around on her desk still talking. Before I knew it more candidates were on the screen.
“These women are accomplished. One is even an opera singer.”
Ms. May went on to point out attributes, but none of them sounded appealing.
Raising my hand, I stopped her.
“I think that I’ve seen enough.”
One of her pencil-thin eyebrows raised itself. I could tell she wasn’t used to someone being dismissive but I didn’t give a shit.
My sister’s kids needed me to stay in this fucking country and the best way to do that was to get a wife, quick fast, and in a hurry. I was having a meeting with a social worker shortly concerning the children.
It hadn’t been on my bingo card to be staying in the United States this long. Naturally, I hadn’t intended to be the guardian of two girls, a fourteen-year-old and an eight-year-old.
“Mr. Tanaka,” her voice betrayed slight fury at my indifferent manner.
Holding up my hand I halted her words. “I have a meeting in the next….”
Glancing at the Rolex on my arm, I noted the time. Even if I drove like a maniac, I was going to be late.
“I have to go!”
Standing, my office chair nearly flew back against the glass.
“Mr. Tanakaaaa….”
The screen of the laptop slammed closed, and I wondered if I’d broken the screen. Adjusting my tie, I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door.
Three guards were standing nearby but I went to dismiss them. They were with me for what seemed to be every single waking moment.
Not the school,I thought.
My older sister Abby would have been disappointed.
Our family and the elements that surrounded them had never been part of her life. She’d moved out the second she could never taking a single dime from our father.
And now she’d been murdered.
“Meet me back at the house,” I told my head of security.
“Sir…”
I shook my head. “I’m going to St. Sinclair. Guards are there watching the children but they’re not too obvious. Besides, it’s just a PTA event.”
Mark Jackson was an ex-marine and the only non-Japanese man in my vicinity, but I trusted him with my life.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea. But as you wish.”
He seemed hurt by my words and that amused me when much didn’t.
By the time we got outside, the sun was beginning to set. Glancing up, I saw a cloud that appeared shaped like an angel. For a moment, I stood in awe of it.
When I was a kid, Abby had taken me to the park with my younger brother Alex often and we would lay back on a hillside, watching clouds roll by.
It was something I hadn’t done in nearly twenty years give or take.
Getting behind the wheel of the car, I whipped through Atlanta’s terrible ass traffic. Sitting in one spot for what seemed like too long, a few kids knocked on the window trying to get me to buy water.
I was only twenty-five minutes late when I strolled into the school and she was there waiting, along a wall. Janet Fryer was the social worker assigned to my nieces. The woman had a clipboard permanently attached to her body and I swore she was trying to make my life hell.
She spotted me immediately, walking over the brown dress suit she wore threatening to swallow her entire frame. Her shoes appeared to be leaning a little bit as well.
“Mr. Tanaka, how good of you to make it to the Bingo event,” she offered a smile and then like clockwork, she made a note on her list.
Fighting the eye roll that was assuredly coming, I nodded. “Yes, I made it. Got caught up at the office.”
She sighed. “Mr. Tanaka, I hope I don’t have to make you aware that you have to be on time for your nieces.”
I grumbled something just as someone shouted, “Bingo!”
The crowded hall erupted in applause. Someone had just won a brand-new flat-screen television and they were headed to collect their prize.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Fryer. I need to take a seat.”
Moving away from the woman who seemed about to follow me, I grabbed an empty spot in the back next to an elderly woman whose card was nearly full.
My phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Scanning the screen, I found it was an email coming in from Ms. May.
“Sonny boy, you’ve got B10,” the lady next to me said and slid a red counter over the card for me.
“Thanks,” I nodded.
She grinned. “You’re right handsome.”
Oh my fucking God, I’ve got to find…
My thoughts trailed off as I scanned the email. Ms. May was a persistent one, I’d give her that much for sure.
Mr. Tankaka….Wife for Hire has submitted five more potential brides for your consideration. Please review the attachments. Have a good night and remember to trust the process.
I never made it through the other attachments.
Her.
I wanted her.
She was beautiful with curly blonde hair that made her tawny-colored skin-pop. Her eyes seemed shy and slightly scared.
There was nothing I could do to fight the immediate attraction.
If I was going to be married to a stranger, at the very least I needed to be attracted to them.
“Trust the process,” I murmured to myself.