Chapter 4
Meisa was in the midst of a meeting with three men. She spoke quickly, angrily, and although the conversation was in Japanese, I understood that she was upset. My suspicions were confirmed when, after the men had left, I approached, and saw that her body was tense; her eyes distracted.
“We’re going to a bar,” she at last said. “I have a meeting, then we can enjoy what remains of the evening.”
“Does that include hot wax?” I asked alluding to a few nights ago.
“No. I just want your company tonight.”
Her chauffeur drove us somewhere in 6 Chome. I recognised the area though I didn’t know it well. A neon light flashed something in Kanji.
Inside the club was a pole demarcating the center; leather chairs circled small platforms. I thought the room was empty until I saw a solitary man in one corner. I didn’t get a good look at him: Japanese, short, maybe 40’s, at a glance that was all I could tell.
Meisa said, “Go over to the bar, and make yourself a drink.” She wore a serious expression. “Don’t look; don’t listen.”
I felt the eyes of the unknown in the back of my head, but I was a professional: I walked to the bar, and made myself an old fashioned. Then I sat with my back to them, didn’t look, and I certainly didn’t listen.
They talked for the best part of an hour. When Meisa told me to come over, the unknown had left. I didn’t pry any further because it wasn’t my place to.
The bartender returned, so did the pretty waitresses. Meisa said something in Japanese, and a girl came in. Dressed only in lingerie, she got on the glass platform, and started dancing. Her head fell back; her long hair was like a curtain drape. I looked at Meisa, and saw that although her eyes were on the dame, her mind was really elsewhere.
I remained sipping whisky, watching the beauty dance, and I began to wonder; I began to think; and I began to worry.
***
I walked for about 20 minutes before I found a small café, not a big chain, but I saw in the window that they offered free internet. Meisa had left, and in the vicinity of her discreet apartment, I didn’t know where I was. I needed to get back to the Bvlgari, and my Exige. For that I needed a map.
I went in the cafe, and ordered a caramel macchiato. Then - as I waited - I whipped out my phone, still no 4g. I plugged in the Wi-Fi password from the counter, and checked out Google maps. I was in Yokokawa, off Kasuga Dori. I clocked the nearest subway stop as Kinshicho, took a screenshot, and sat back.
When I looked up, I caught a man staring at me. I’d lived in many countries; it wasn’t uncommon for people to look at the ‘foreigner.’ But Tokyo wasn’t like that, and this guy seemed too debonair to be distracted by a white European. When the waiter brought over my coffee, I took the chance to get a second glimpse at the unknown, but he was tapping on the glass of his Galaxy Tab. He wasn’t looking at me any longer.
I figured Meisa was having me followed, and made a note to bring it up with her.
***
When I at last made it to the office, Lily wore a concerned look, I was half an hour late, and still in the same clothes as the night before. I gave her a forced smile that did little to alleviate her worry.
From my sofa I saw – on the flat screen - NHK doing a piece on none other than Meisa Kato. The Japanese hieroglyphics scrolling across the bottom wasn’t something that I could understand. The reporter’s voice was equally unintelligible, but I could interpret the pictures. There was a montage of Meisa smiling, waving to crowds of people; flash photography lit up her face. Then it cut to a map where some lines were being drawn. I’d seen something similar on English news channels: they were talking about China’s extension of the air defence zone. In short China was claiming more territory, territory that encroached upon Japanese borders. Meisa was the Secretary of Defence, so it made sense that she would be in the spotlight.
***
I didn’t hear anything from Meisa over the next couple of days. I tried to put the concern out of my mind. It was Friday night, and the guys at the office had arranged a night out in celebration of the boss’s success. I checked my messages one last time before departing, still nothing.
Lily smiled at me from across the room, “It’s a good thing.”
She knew what I was doing.
“You really don’t like her do you?”
She shook her head.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
Lily looked older than her mere 17 years in a tight black dress. There was an inch of bare thigh between the bottom, and her leg length socks. She had a nice shade of mascara on, pink lipstick. She was exactly the kind of girl I would go for: petite, and cute, but she was more like a sister to me than anything.
Lily and I got dropped outside the pizza restaurant. Rousseau most of all lamented because they didn’t serve wine. I explained that it wasn’t in order to spite him, rather I needed something to line my stomach, and not just sushi.
When we finished our meal, and left the restaurant, the sun had faded. It was time to drink. The last venue that we attended was an exclusive club named Geisha: a premier hotspot amongst the socialites of the city. The club was dark, and most of the girls dressed seductively: short skirts, knee high socks. We took a VIP area which Ronin had arranged beforehand, but soon headed down to enjoy the party, that is excepting Ronin and Lily, who remained together.
Natalya also decided to remain in the exclusive area, which left Rousseau, Aramis, Achilles and myself. We took a walk around the open warehouse; staircases, elevated walkways, and balconies flanked the ground floor. Throngs of people crowded the open space. We made our way through them when a long legged creature put her lips to Rousseau’s glass; she looked up at him, an alluring girl, so he didn’t protest. He let her drink. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and pulled him away from us.
Aramis asked Achilles and I to excuse him before approaching a French girl. Her cheeks wore the flag so that’s what I assumed she was. I remembered the French had just had a friendly in Osaka; she must have watched the game in a bar, or at home with friends.
Achilles and I continued our walk; it was then I spotted a figure on the walkway above, who stared back at me. I looked hard, thinking it was the same guy from the café, though I couldn’t be sure in the poor light, at that distance, being that drunk. We went up the stairs, and I decided to confront him, but when we got up there, he was gone.
Achilles looked at me like I was mad. I shook it off, and we looked out at the warehouse floor. A woman with the legs, and bone structure of a catwalk model approached. She wasn’t beautiful in the strict sense, but had a look about her that drew you in, rendered you unable to look away. She spoke in Achilles’s ear, ran her hand along his side. He gave me a look to say that I was on my own.
I headed back to the VIP section where Natalya was just leaving, a man on each arm. I smiled before noticing that Lily and Ronin were gone; I asked her about them before she left. She told me what I already suspected.
I hoped Lily knew what she was doing, Ronin too. I didn’t want a drunken frolic to cause an open rupture between us. With that in mind I slumped on the couch feeling worse for wear. Flashing lights reflected off my face, the room spun, the music was muffled. When I got myself together I noticed I wasn’t alone. Two girls smiled back at me. They took the champagne from the bucket, and started drinking. One kept the fizz in her mouth, and let it spill into that of her friend. I smiled. They slid closer to me.
“You’re not shy,” I said.
“We’re drunk.”
The one on the right was a knockout, her friend was not. She got a pass, only if her friend accompanied her.
“Are you rich?” They asked.
“Yeah.” After a beat. “Why do you care?”
“Rich men are sexier.”
“Are you ok?” the ugly one said, seeing that the latter comment had made me uncomfortable. I smiled, and said the first thing that came to my mind, “Are you hookers?”
I felt a sting on my face from the girl’s slap. When I watched my threesome walk away, I noticed a girl hanging out by the bar. She had a great body: tight legs, tits, and ass. She must have been in her 20’s, and cute as hell. She’d noticed me, but didn’t want to let me on to that fact. Thinking it a good sign, I got up, and strode over.
“Hi,” I said. “You see those girls?”
The woman looked at me sideways, and nodded.
“I feel so old. The people in clubs keep getting younger and younger.”
I got a smile for that one, something must have resonated.
“What’s your name?”
“Xia.”
Nice name.
“Romeo.”
She turned to look at me full on.
“Your name is Romeo?”
“Yeah, why not?”
She looked incredulous.
“So you’re Chinese?”
I got credit for clocking the name’s origin.
“Yes.”
“Whereabouts?”
“Henan Province, Zhengzhou.”
I’d heard of it from my time in China.
“What do you do here?”
She stared intently at me for a while. Long enough to make the silence awkward. “I work for a Chinese company.”
It was clear that she was irritated by all the questions, so I changed my approach.
“Drink?”
She acquiesced, and we sat down together. I looked over her pale skin, red lips, and dark hair. She stared back. Her mouth was still wet with champagne when I kissed it. She responded better to this than to questions. My heart started thumping. Her hand rested on my shirt above that part of my chest, and despite the thick muscle that protected it, she could still feel the vibrations. She looked wide-eyed at me, and allowed herself to smile.
We stayed like that for half an hour: drinking champagne, kissing, not talking. Then I asked her back to my place, and she said yes. On the way she rested her head on my shoulder, and I felt something that caused me to tremble.
Back at Azabu Gardens, while Xia looked around, I checked on Lily. She wasn’t there and must have been at Ronin’s. The dame waited in the center of the living room. I walked up to her, and kissed her again. Then we started shedding clothing, and edged towards the bedroom.
When I awoke the next morning, the girl of my dreams was gone. She had taken my breath away. Nursing the worst hangover of my life, worse than the one after the first night with Meisa, I crashed on the couch. Lily tried to sneak in around 11 the next day. I didn’t say anything; I wasn’t in the mood for it. I checked my emails on my ipad, still nothing from Meisa. All the guys dropped me a line, saying that we should do it again sometime, and I agreed.
Copyright © 2014 by Curtis Couch
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