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“I can wait outside for Fumi?—”
“No, please. Sit.”
I nod.
“Fumi very much enjoys working for your firm, Mr. Black. You have my thanks for her promotion a few months ago.”
“She earned it, Mr. Yamaguchi. Your daughter is an excellent attorney. I’m lucky to have her.” I correct myself. “We’re lucky to have her.”
He smiles. “Yes, you are.”
My phone dings. “Apologies.”
“Please,” he waves a hand. “Business is business. I understand.”
I pull out my phone, glancing over the minor work-related catastrophe unfolding on the group thread with Taylor and Alistair. Scowling, I email the document they seem to be missing, then fire off a string of texts to Elsa concerning a client she’s meeting with tomorrow.
Finally I exhale, shoving the phone in my pocket.
“Just the same, my sincere apologies, Mr. Yama?—”
Fumi’s father’s eyes are closed, his head leaning against the back of the chair as his chest rises and falls. I’m not surprised. The mother of a friend of mine from law school went through chemo a few years ago, and it was brutal on her.
Quietly, I fire off a few more emails and then return to the couch. I glance at my watch, then peer in the direction Mr. Yamaguchi went to tell Fumi I was here.
Which was, like, ten minutes ago by now.
I sigh heavily as I stand. She may have won the day, but at the end of it, I’m still her boss. I’ll be the boss of both her professional and her private life once we go through with this.
…Although perhaps I shouldn’t feel a throb of something dark in my core when I think of it like that.
At the end of the hallway, I poke my head into an open door before realizing it’s clearly her father’s bedroom. The other door is cracked, too, so I push it open and step inside.
“Fumi?”
I frown. The bedroom is…stark. It’s lived in, but it looks like she moved in in a hurry and then never really unpacked. Boxes line one wall. Her furniture is sparse, her bed neatly made but plain. The only things on her small desk are a laptop, a stack of legal pads, and a mountain of Crown and Black files.
No Fumi.
I frown, gazing around the room before my eyes land on something on the floor near her bed. I smirk, and before I know what I’m doing, I walk over and pluck the skimpy, lacy little black thong off the floor.
Fumi’s an attractive woman. But she’s also all-business. She dresses in flattering but utterly work-appropriate pant and skirt suits, she keeps her jet-black hair back in a severe bun most of the time, and her makeup is professional but not in any way enticing.
It’s…amusing to discover that she owns a pair of lacy panties.
And more than slightly arousing.
I frown as I will the blood to stop flowing to my dick. I drop the thong back onto the floor and scan the room again.
This time, I hear something shuffling and moving behind what I assume is a closet door. Then I hear the clatter of something falling, and a curse that sounds a whole hell of a lot like Fumi’s voice.
Annoyed at my wasted time, I stride over. Before I can think it through, I grab the knob, twist it, and storm into?—
Fuck.
The bathroom.
The second I barge in, a very shocked, headphones-wearing, scream-lodged-in-her-throat, naked Fumi whirls on me and our eyes lock.
