Golden Era (Book 2)

42. Mistake No. 2

Morning light burning against her face, Noa groaned once before rolling over. This single movement sent pain drilling through her skull. Cringing, she struggled to lift her head then instantly regretted it: while one side felt like it was filled with rocks, the other wobbled as if made out of sand.

After five minutes of incremental movements, Noa managed to prop herself up to a semi-upright position. She groaned again, feeling like she'd just dashed across a desert. Her eyeballs were on fire and her mouth tasted like flannel. It was evidence of her poor decision-making: drinking on an empty stomach then wandering around in the cold. 

A glance at the clock told her it was past ten a.m. The morning was effectively in the trash. While she considered ditching the day, a noise came from the hallway.

Painstakingly crawling out of bed, Noa inched towards the door and opened it to find Ayuna leaving.

"Why are you still home? Didn't class start hours ago?" croaked Noa. She sounded like a dying frog.

"Well, that makes the two of us," teased Ayuna.

Noa made a face.

"I'm going to Osaka with Inui to scout out our tennis venue," Ayuna explained.

"Should I come with you?" offered Noa. "Spare me twenty so I can pull myself together..."

Ayuna shook her head. "Don't worry about me. You had a rough day yesterday. Stay back and recharge. I'll be in good company."

Faced with her friend's thoughtfulness, Noa felt a stab of guilt at the role reversal. As her guard, not only was she drinking on the job, but she was now so hungover, Ayuna had to coddle her. 

As if reading her self-condemnation, Ayuna reassured Noa, "I'll be fine, really. Osaka's an incredibly crowded city and it's only a thirty-minute train ride away. Plus, I'll be back within the day. The risk is minimal."

But it isn't zero, thought Noa. The risk would always exist as long as Mizuno Ren was alive. At the same time, she knew Ayuna was prudent enough to have weighed her options. 

"I'll stay behind," said Noa, deciding to respect her decision. "But you'll have to keep me posted on your whereabouts. Also, call me when you get back so I can pick you up."

"Deal," agreed Ayuna with a wink. "Meanwhile, you have to promise to stay hydrated."

"Deal." Noa saluted and bade her friend goodbye.

***

Having set a purpose for her day, Noa got dressed and headed to campus to get actual work done. With Sachi and Ayuri away, the bulk of executive duties fell onto Ayuna and Noa. Adding on fundraiser planning, there was a staggering backlog of unanswered emails and pending requests.

While she worked through emails, her cell phone chimed several times.

Noa glanced over, on the screen was a request from her mother: Noa dear, come walk for Tokyo fashion week. Staying at the usual place. xx 

Concise and to-the-point. Just business as usual for Ami Marie, the transcontinental designer.

Noa sat back. She'd forgotten all about fashion week and their age-long tradition! Ever since she was a teenager, Noa had joined models every year to showcase Ami Marie's latest ready-to-wear designs in Tokyo. It was one of the few times she felt close to bonding with her mother as they posed together for the press, then celebrated with macarons and champagne backstage.

For a second, Noa saw a glimmer of happiness. Her mother didn't forget about their tradition even though they'd been out of touch for months. Perhaps her week wasn't a total trainwreck. 

Snatching up her cell phone, Noa left the office and went to the rooftop terrace for privacy. The tiled ground remained damp from recent rain. In the distance, a few clusters of storm clouds clung to the horizon as they retreated.

As Noa dialed her mother's number, she saw this invitation as a golden opportunity for payback. Given her parents' poor performance, she was going to be tactical: if they wanted a favor from her, they'd have to work for it.

Ami Marie picked up on the last ring. "Chérie! I didn't think you'd get back to me so fast!"

Noa bleated a dry laugh. "Well, you know me—always eager. Did you just get into Tokyo?"

"Two days ago. I'm still spinning. It's been two decades and the jetlag still destroys me every time!"

"Maybe it's a sign you should visit more often," grumbled Noa under her breath.

"What's that, chérie?"

"Nothing."

"Are you calling to tell me good news?"

"Two pieces of good news, actually," corrected Noa. 

"Two? Well, you'll walk the runaway, yes?"

"Yes. But only if you do me a favor in exchange."

Marie's voice faltered here, "What favor?"

"I want you to come to Hikari's annual fundraiser. We're donating to a sports foundation and we'll be hosting a tennis tournament. Top Japanese players will be invited to compete against each other."

Holding the phone closer, Noa went on emphatically, "I know how much you enjoy watching the French Open in Paris every spring. This won't be the same, but I promise it'll come close to its level. Not to mention, you've never seen fall in Kyoto—it's gorgeous everywhere. It would be nice for us to spend some time together in a traditional inn and soak in their outdoor hot springs. What do you think?"

"That sounds wonderful," said Marie. Then her voice took a dip, and Noa's heart sank along with it. "But I can't possibly fit it into my schedule. You know I have to prepare for the Berlin Fashion Week right after this event. I can't be slacking off!"

Noa felt cold sweat in her palms. She commanded herself to stay calm; slow and steady were the basics of negotiation. "Then I guess you'll be one model short because I'm not coming to Tokyo unless you come to the fundraiser."

"Noa, don't be unreasonable—I've got my assistant to tailor the dress just for you!"

"Well, that's too bad," Noa stood her ground. "Say yes to the fundraiser, mom, and I'll catch the next train to Tokyo for a fitting."

Marie expelled a labored sigh. Noa waited while holding her breath, practically hearing her mother cave in. When another sigh came, Noa expected to hear a yes, even if it was unenthusiastic.

Instead, she heard Marie say, "I guess it's as you said—tant pis, too bad. It's such short notice, but such is life. I'll have to get my assistant to resize the dress today for one of our backup models." To the side, Noa heard her fire a rapid round of French to the head assistant.

Noa's eardrums buzzed. She was being dropped—replaced for a commodity model in the blink of an eye. Years of traditions discarded without hesitation.

When her mother's voice returned, it was to tell Noa she'd still be welcome to come to see the show. Marie would save her a second-row seat since the first had to be reserved for celebrities and major magazine editors. With that, she gave her two air-kisses over the phone and hung up.

The line was dead before Noa could even say goodbye.

She stared at the blacked-out screen. It was her mother's one-thousandth excuse to stay away. She was a carbon copy of her father: there was always a client, an event, a show—something more important, more worthy of their time than her daughter.

Then Noa sensed someone behind her. Whipping around, Noa came to face Atobe Keigo, who stood at the entrance to the rooftop, a hand stuck in his pocket.

From the looks of it, he'd heard everything.