Chapter 18
Eighteen
My mind relives the kiss over and over again during the course of dinner. I’m seated at the high table with the imperial family. I engage Princess Kaori in conversation as best I can, but my heart isn’t in it. It’s sitting back in the car with my protection officer. Or rather, wherever he is now.
As I scan the room, I hope to catch a glimpse of him. All I see is a sea of men in black tuxes and women in colorful kimonos.
“Ali-chan, are you all right? You’ve been quiet tonight,” Princess Kaori says. Her large, almond-shaped brown eyes appraise me, full of worry.
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
“I heard you’ve been making the rounds all over Tokyo. My mother was impressed by how much you’ve done already.”
“I’m supposed to take a day trip to Kyoto tomorrow too.”
“You’ll probably have to get an early start.” She nods knowingly. “Do you want to leave the banquet early? I can ask my father to start wrapping up the event.” She leans closer and whispers into my ear, “He looks like he’s fighting to stay awake. My parents are normally in bed by eight-thirty.”
We both glance at the emperor, who hides a yawn while he speaks to the mayor of Yokohama. It’s about ten-thirty in the evening. Dinner began at seven.
“Actually, Father may thank you.” Kaori giggles.
Her offer is tempting. I’d love to be able to escape to the solitude of my hotel room and dissect everything that’s happened so far.
But on the other hand, when I make my leave, there’s no way I’ll be able to avoid Art.
Can I pretend it didn’t happen? What if he’s told Angela?
Would she tell my father? Would Art be fired on the spot because of me?
“If you could make it happen, I promise I’ll make it up to you the next time I see you. I’m beginning to have a headache, and I think sleep might be the best thing for me.”
“It doesn’t help that we’re in the middle of a hot, humid summer too.
Make sure you drink plenty of water and stay hydrated.
” Kaori signals for one of the servers and exchanges a few words with him in Japanese.
He relays her message to the emperor, who looks toward us with a grateful smile. “Give Father five minutes.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Kaori.”
“Women in STEM need to stick together. Let’s stay in touch. We may even be seeing one another sooner than you think.”
“Oh?”
“My parents are considering sending my middle sister, Fumiko, to a boarding school in Wales. She wants to improve her English. The two of us may be visiting the UK during our spring holidays to check it out.”
“Let me know; you’re welcome to stay with me. I have a new flat I’m working on.”
She grins. “I’d love to see it.”
We chat for a few more minutes until the emperor stands and the room falls silent. He gives a short speech thanking everyone for attending, bids farewell to me, and takes his leave. Dinner is officially over. I fight a wave of dread.
Angela is one of the first people to find me as everyone makes their way down to the front drive of the palace. Trying to gauge her body language, I ask, “How was your evening?”
“The food was delicious. Some of the best sushi I’ve ever had.” She manages a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her posture is stiff and she’s glancing around nervously.
The muscles in my stomach tense. Has Art told her? Does she have a crush on him? Have I ruined their working relationship? What about their personal one?
“And the company?”
“It was awkward,” she answers slowly.
I wince. “I’m so sorry . . .” I start.
“Ma’am, there’s nothing that could’ve possibly been done.”
“Yes, there is,” I sputter. “It’s all my fault.”
“Ma’am, I knew going into tonight that the security lounge was going to be a boys’ club,” she says, lowering her voice.
“The main office warned me I was going to very likely be the only female protection officer here. And they were right. I was mentally prepared to be ignored. Believe me, it’s something I’ve had to come to terms with since my military days. That’s why I brought my Kindle.”
I freeze. That was not what I was expecting. Poor Angela. I can’t believe it. I mean, I know in many places of the world, it’s unusual to have a female bodyguard, but hearing it and seeing it are two different things. “You spent the entire three hours reading?”
“Not all of it, but most.”
The three temporary members of my extended detail stumble down the two front steps. Their arms are linked as they sing loudly and out of tune. I recognize it as a popular pub tune. Art trails them. His eyes are narrowed into thin slits, his lips pressed firmly together.
My throat is dry. Is he angry with me? Or the three drunkards? I feel like I’m staring at Godzilla emerging from the sea and walking directly toward us. Every instinct in my body is telling me to flee, but I can’t move my feet or find any words.
“Ange, you escort Princess Alice back to the hotel. I’ll see to these blokes.” His tone leaves no room for negotiation.
Angela flashes him a thumbs-up and opens the door for me. We both climb in and drive away.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry,” I whisper.
“You’ll find out soon enough, but Jerry, Paul, and Brock got into a drinking game with some of their Japanese counterparts.
Art tried hard to put a stop to it, but they chose to ignore him.
I told him to just let them make fools of themselves and let HQ deal with them, but he’s too much of a gentleman to do so. ”
She shakes her head. “When we’re on duty, it’s strictly against regulations to drink any alcohol.
It wouldn’t surprise me if their bums are on a plane back to London first thing in the morning.
There’s a zero-tolerance policy for misbehavior like that, especially when we’re abroad on a diplomatic mission.
” Angela rubs her temples. “There’s going to be so much paperwork to fill out. It’ll be another long night for us.”
I shudder as guilt floods my system. A zero-tolerance policy. What would Angela say if she knew about the kiss? I gulp. Her hands would be tied, that’s what would happen, and Art would probably be on the first plane back to London too. I’ve mucked everything up.
Angela and Art already have so much on their plates. Trouble from me is not what they need right now. What can I do to help them out? Think, Ali. Think. Ugh. Nothing is coming to mind. My brain is fried. I’m so exhausted, and I bet they are too.
That’s when it hits me. As much as I want to stick to the planned schedule and had my heart set on seeing Kyoto’s architecture, if I cancel tomorrow’s engagements, they can have a few more hours of sleep.
It stings, but I know it’s the right call.
Tomorrow can be a “take it easy” day. If Papa were in my shoes, I bet he’d agree with me.
He’s the one who taught me that a good leader listens to his troops.
Being healthy is more important than anything else.
The walls connecting my suite to Angela and Art’s are thin. I hear practically everything they’re saying to one another and to the London office. Art’s voice is as sharp as a knife. I can sense the anger radiating out from him.
I try playing music, a fan app, and using my supposedly soundproof headphones, but nothing works.
I may be exhausted, but my mind is whirling with too many thoughts for sleep to come to me.
I desperately need to speak to Art. Alone.
But at the rate things are going, that may not happen until we’re back in London.
Around three in the morning, I give up completely and decide I’m going to call down to room service and order some midnight—or rather three a.m.—snacks.
Slipping my bathrobe over pajamas—a baggy T-shirt and a pair of shorts that fall to my knees—I tap my knuckles lightly against the connecting door to the adjoining two-bedroom suite.
It’s yanked open a moment later by Art. He’s in a white T-shirt that’s stretched tightly across his chest and plaid pajama bottoms. Only he could make those pajama bottoms sexy. I fight to keep from gaping at him.
He places a finger to his lips and gently closes the door three-quarters of the way.
Peeling a sock off his foot, he rolls it into a ball and places it on the ground to act as a doorstop.
We’re in my room now. Alone. My heart has begun to beat wildly in my chest. He’s so close to me.
I stop myself from reaching out to touch him.
“Angela just fell asleep. I don’t want to wake her.”
“I thought I heard you guys both moving around. I didn’t know she’d gone to sleep.”
Art crosses his arms, the T-shirt straining against his bulging biceps and ripped forearms. My throat goes dry.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him in an outfit with short sleeves.
There’s a tattoo trailing up his arm. It’s hard to tell what it is, but I think it’s a phoenix. I instantly want to know more about it.
“That was me puttering around the bathroom. I dropped the charger for my toothbrush.” His Adam’s apple constricts in his throat. “What can I do for you?”
“I, er . . . was just going to see if either of you wanted a late-night snack.” I slip a lock of loose hair behind my ear.
“Can’t sleep?” He raises his eyebrow.
“No. I turned the telly on, and the commercials seem to be for snacks. I can’t stand it anymore—they’re making me hungry. I was going to see if I could get some matcha ice cream or something else sweet.”
“I’m not in the mood for dessert, but I could go for some curry.” He runs a hand through his hair. “We need to talk anyway. Let me just grab my glasses.”
He wants to talk. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? His tone is calm. So maybe it’s not as dire as I thought? “I’ll order the food.” My voice squeaks. “What type of curry do you want?”
“Yellow if they have it, with the pork tonkatsu? I’ll take a side of edamame and water too.”
“Hungry much?” I let out a nervous laugh.