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He leaves me looking after him and this outrageous pronouncement.
Later that eveningI am sitting in the formal dining room awaiting my husband as instructed. Mercurial as ever he comes in as if he’s been aggravated since the moment he left harassing me. I don’t feel an iota of sympathy for his mean ass. “I know you’re probably giving those poor executives hell at the job,” I quip, taking a sip of the plum wine I’ve liberally imbibed.
He pauses his eyes skating over me with a mild quirk of his brow before he takes the seat at the opposite end of the obscenely long table. “We came to an agreement with the workers tonight to end the strike.”
“Wow.” That’s great news. I’m eager to know what this means for my cousins but he still seems like he’s more than perturbed. Maybe he feels like they gave up too much and the company will suffer.
“Come here,” he demands, his eyes holding dirty promises.
I shake my head. “This is where the lady of the house sits.”
“When we have guests. Regardless, you will sit where I desire.” Nodding to Hiru, he takes his whiskey as the servant without further instruction sets a place beside him. Silent as a wraith the man comes over to me to hold out my chair.
Not wanting to cause a scene or make Hiru uncomfortable, I pick up my glass and walk over to the seat beside the one Hisashi is lounging negligently in at the head of the table.
He nods to Hiru who disappears, I assume to get our food.
“How was the rest of your day?” Mild curiosity lights his eyes.
“You mean you didn’t watch me?”
“Didn’t have time. Your cousin and his little friend are still wreaking havoc amongst the employee’s message boards at the plant. I’ve had to put out fires all day. Then met with the strike leaders and other interested parties at The Camellia. Thankfully we were able to come to an agreement and find one of the people who was spreading misinformation and strife. It’s all settled now,” he says with cold finality, leaving no question exactly how it was settled.
Giving me a low steady look he takes a long sip of his Yamazaki, single malt. Allowing his head to drop back he closes his eyes savoring the taste. The delicate oak aroma bathes the space once he sits the glass between us.
“Have some.” He indicates with an open palm.
“I don’t want to mix. It may make me sick later,” I say.
“Taste it.” He’s daring me.
Turning the glass, I turn it so the side from which he drank is facing me. Eyes on him, I lick the glass placing my lips over the exact spot his lips were moments ago taking a small sip.
Smooth heat slides over my tongue as I watch his eyes flame. “It’s too bad.”
“What?” He takes the glass I hand back in traditional fashion with it resting open palm supported by my other hand.
“This is our last meal together.”
He pauses looking at the food like I’ve poisoned it.
Shaking my head sadness settles over my heart like an old familiar hug. “You think I’d poison you, husband?” I ask, taking my glass and downing the rest of the wine before sitting the empty glass away.
“I never thought you a coward before. How is it that you think you’ll ever leave me little dove unless I no longer breathe?” he inquires, making a big production of eating his steak.
Taking my utensils, I eat alongside him. The food is delicious, rivalling that of my Michelin trained cousin. But there’s no point in having all this money if you can’t have the best of everything. Even the linen shift dress I’m wearing with handmade embroidery is one of a kind.
We eat mostly in silence until finally he sits back, and Hiru comes in just as silently as before taking our plates away.
“Would you like dessert?” Hisashi asks me, courteous as the night we met.
“I’m fine, thank you. Though more plum wine would be nice.” Hisashi nods to Hiru who takes the plates seemingly a short distance and doubles back to pour.
“Leave the bottle,” I tell him, not bothering to give Hisashi a chance to say anything as I take the bottle from the servant and plunk it down. “That’s all, Hiru,” I tell the man, tired of the pretense. I’m aching for a fight.
“I spoke to my parents. They want me to come for a visit.” Since he didn’t listen in real time, I’m sure he missed the part where Mommy said both of us and I’m not about to tell him either.
“I don’t have a problem with that. When do you want to leave?” Mild curiosity and amusement play across his face like he’s ready to have his assistant pencil a visit to my parents in despite everything going on.
