“What?”
I jerk my chin at her wrist. “The bandage.”
“Oh, that? It’s nothing. Just some wrist pain, probably carpel tunnel.” She drops the arm and brings down the sleeve like a cover. “They have really nice cold-drip coffee,” she says suddenly, pointing at the coffee in my hand. “Maybe one of these days you can buy me one.” Immediately she turns red. “I meant I’d treat you to one.”
The mistake should be charming, especially with the deep blush on her objectively pretty face. But my gut is quiet. “Why?”
“Um.” She blinks a few times. “Don’t you like free coffee?”
“I prefer to pay for my own.” I turn around and head to my office.
Why are you doing this? She could be Queen.
I don’t know, and don’t want to dwell on it. I always thought if I ran into Queen again, I’d feel that unmistakable connection. But nothing like that wells in my chest, not even a little.
I spot Akiko near Dad’s office. Must be one of their occasional lunch dates. She’s looking chic and lively as usual, but then, she’s always energetic. I’ve never seen her cry or look despondent. The woman is like human sunshine.
“Ares,” she says, “you look good today. You have a court appearance or something?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Oh, some free time. How nice.” She smiles.
Is she subtly hinting for me to bill more hours? Although she’s been in the States for a long time now, she sometimes reverts to her old Japanese habits and beats around the bush rather than getting straight to the point. She might’ve heard Dad say something about my promotional prospects. “Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m planning to work at my desk.”
She purses her lips. “That… Well, work is very important, of course, but don’t you think your wife might need some time with you?”
“Lareina?”
“She was a little down, trying on clothes all alone in your living room, until I intervened.” Vague disapproval mars the perfectly smooth skin between her eyebrows. If she’s too upset to notice she’s wrinkling her skin, she’s really distraught, which I hate to see. She might not be my biological mother, but I like her and respect her. She’s done the best she could with the traumatized teenager she inherited when she married my dad.
“It’s more convenient that way,” I say.
“Not convenient. Lonely! What’s the purpose of shopping if nobody’s there to offer opinions?”
Akiko wants a specific type of response, but…what? I’ve never cared about what others thought. I buy whatever I feel like. “You don’t need opinions, do you?” I ask gingerly.
“Of course I do! Nothing brings me joy like your father calling me beautiful.”
Ah, I get it now.“I think my wife is beautiful.”
“Have you told her?” Akiko asks.
“Yes, of course.”Have I?I think I have… Haven’t I?
“If you don’t tell her, she’ll never know. She can’t read your mind.” Akiko smiles. “Deep inside my heart, I know your father loves me. But sometimes I need to be told, reassured we’re still on the same page.”
I force a smile which hopefully looks natural. Dad, Grandmother and Aunt Jeremiah have probably guessed why I married Lareina, but not Akiko. She refuses to get involved in the inner workings of the firm, saying the American legal business is beyond her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
She leans in conspiratorially. “Take her to that art auction,” she says. “The one next month. It’s going to feature a lot of amazing art. Buy her something pretty.”
“Why not just jewelry?”
Akiko shakes her head. “Jewelry is cliché. Besides, I already gave her the pearls I got from Japan.”
“The pearls I got from Japan” is how she always describes the heirlooms from her zaibatsu family. They give them to the women who marry into the family. The fact that Akiko is giving them to Lareina means not only am I fully a member of the family on her side, but so is Lareina.
Guilt needles at me. The marriage isn’t even real.
