In Deep Kimchi (23 page)

Who was Masaaki kidding? He felt drenched from the run over from the hotel after Shaundra kicked him out of her room. Damn her. What did she expect him to do? He couldn’t just drop Amaya or pretend the two of them didn’t have a lifelong relationship. Didn’t she understand that he was torn in two about the entire situation?

He hurried to the back to get into his practice clothes. Maybe he needed to dance until the exhaustion set in. He removed his suit, put on a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt and dashed back into the practice room just as the rest of the performers arrived. There were five other groups performing tomorrow besides Aomori and they took up much of the space.

“Let’s move this party to the stage,” Masaaki ordered.

Everyone got up and followed him out of the practice hall.

Ichiro kept looking at him while they walked.

“Nothing happened,” Yori said. “She turned me away.”

“Smart cookie,” Ichiro replied as he found an empty seat to wait until it was their turn.

Bushido, the opening act took the stage as the other groups settled into seats to watch. Bushido consisted of five Japanese youngsters who also worked for Mr. Niigata. Aomori had taken then under their wing and were training them. The leader, Kei, had dyed his hair blond and sported a Mohawk. The other four had cut away their hair, too, to a shorter style that made them look older and more mature than their eighteen years. They reminded him a lot of Aomori when they had been that age.

Three acts later, Aomori took the stage with their back up dancers and, when their turn was over, they returned to their seats to watch the closing act. An hour later, Yori felt so exhausted he began to doze in his seat. He promised only to catch a couple of winks while Masaaki gave them a rousing speech to end their day…

Satoshi nudged him. “Wake up, princess. It’s time to go.”

Yori opened his eyes and found his three friends staring down at him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Takumijo asked “You never fell asleep in rehearsal before.”

“I’m just tired,” Yori replied.

“That’s a guilty conscience,” Satoshi replied, and walked away.

Yori rubbed his eyes, rose from his seat and followed his friends back to the changing room to get his things. “Damn Ichiro,” the muttered to himself. Why did he have to ask her out on a date? Hopefully, things would go better tomorrow. Maybe the concert and the crowds would pull him out of his misery.

Chapter Thirteen

Riley whistled. “Look at this crowd.”

Shaundra turned around in her seat. “Oh my word. This place is packed.” Mr. Niigata had arranged for them to enter the Dome earlier. Smart man. Young girls and women screamed Aomori’s name and held banners for their favorite groups from the balcony even though the super group was nowhere in sight.

“Think of all the money being made,” Harper said at her right. To him, everything revolved around money.

Shaundra turned her attention back to the stage area. Six groups were slated to perform during the next five hours. There had been a lot of action earlier as the stage hands moved instruments and scenery around, but now the dark curtains were down and drawn. Multi-colored lights flickered and the intro music began to play. The huge dome went silent and the curtains lifted. The first group, Bushido, took the stage and the fans went wild, stamping their feet and clapping their hands to the rhythmic hip-hop song.

The group was decked out in bright colors with western-world haircuts. The leader, a blond, was cute, had a nice, sexy high voice that made the young women in the audience scream. This went on for about an hour or so. Bushido performed four songs in Japanese and then disappeared behind the curtain. There was a brief intermission, during which the ladies decided to go to the restroom. After waiting in a long line, all four women returned to their seats just in time for the next act to appear.

This time, a group of young women arrived on stage dressed in mini dresses and skirts and they performed a medley of juvenile songs that made Shaundra’s stomach turn. They were cute, but the only girl group she liked was the Supremes.

Harper left during the second intermission and had not returned by the time the fourth group came on. The beautiful song made her stop squirming in her chair. The curtain opened and Aomori stood on stage dressed in black and white suits. None of the outfits were alike, probably designed to match the wearer’s personality. Their hair was stylishly arranged, and they wore a ton of stage makeup to emphasize their perfect faces.

The crowd went wild and joined them in the song, nearly drowning out Aomori a couple of times. When the song ended, they didn’t get a chance to relax because the boys broke into a fast number that showcased their sensational dance techniques. Ichiro had some pretty serious moves for someone who hardly ever talked. No wonder he’d turned down the girl in the club that night. Those hip movements and pelvis thrusts made Shaundra’s body temperature spike.

Satoshi performed a solo while the rest of the group went backstage. He had a really nice voice, kind of deep and sensual, which made the women in the audience scream even more. When the rest of the group returned, they were dressed in jeans, tees and vests and performed some skits while Satoshi changed. He joined them a short time later and encouraged the audience to participate.

She found their antics delightful, including Takumijo, who used his looks and build to command attention. A giggling young woman was taken from the audience to participate in a skit, but all she managed to do was scream and fan herself with her hand while holding tightly to Yori. Aomori performed another round of fast songs accompanied by their backup dancers. They disappeared backstage for a rest.

Shaundra looked down at her watch. Four hours had passed. The curtain rose again and Mr. Niigata, Harper and another Japanese man she didn’t recognize appeared on stage. Mr. Niigata introduced him as the owner and CEO of
Flowing Magazine
. Shit, she had forgotten all about the cover.

After a brief mention about the opening of their joint publishing company, a huge covered billboard was lowered from the ceiling and Jay Adams, the photographer friend of Harper’s, appeared to talk to the fans about Aomori's involvement with their latest edition. The fans screamed Aomori’s name and then Jay unveiled the cover. There was a deafening silence and then stomping and excited screaming of Yori’s name.

“Oh, my goodness,” Shaundra said, staring at her image bigger than life on the billboard with Yori. Jay had captured them in a very provocative pose on the chaise lounge. She hardly recognized herself due to the hair, makeup and airbrushing of her imperfections. She had to admit that she did look beautiful, and Yori was so handsome. His image seemed to jump from the billboard. Fans pulled out their cameras and their dreaded cell phones. They began taking pictures of the poster and were probably emailing it to their friends and sending it directly to Facebook and YouTube.

“Do you think the fan girls liked the cover?” Shaundra asked Dorothy as she eased her sunglasses out of her purse and put them on.

“I don’t know,” Dorothy admitted. “But I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes at the moment. How are we going to get you out of here without anyone finding out who you are?”

True, she hadn’t seen many African American females since they’d entered the Dome, if any. “I hope Harper and Mr. Niigata have a plan for my escape. You know most of them have already seen the two of us together on YouTube. For all I know, they are already planning my demise.”

“They’re a bunch of teenage girls and young women. What can they do to you?”

The publisher lifted the billboard and left the stage under the shouts for Aomori to return to the stage. Mr. Niigata was smart enough to send in another act. Shaundra scooted down in her seat. She didn’t want to think of all the awful things Aomori’s fans could do to her before she left Japan.

* * * *

“Who is that woman?” Kaori Saitama asked Yori after the concert ended and they were all backstage at the after-concert celebration.

“Ichiro’s girlfriend,” Amaya answered for him.

“So why isn’t she posing with him instead of your fiancé?”

“That is a good question, Mother. Yori, why isn’t she posing with Ichiro?”

“Because the photographer asked me. You know how shy Ich is.”

“But to pose so sexy with a stranger is…” Kaori didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence.

“Good publicity strategy,” her husband, Dai, replied. “
Flowing
is trying broaden its readership by reaching beyond Japan.”

Yori did not expect his future father-in-law to be in agreement or be so knowledgeable about trends.

“I wish I would have known about this issue. I would have put in an ad for our business,” Dai replied.

“But, Father, don’t you think it’s shocking that a woman her age would agree to be photographed in such a way?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Dai asked. “She’s a beautiful middle-aged woman. Ichiro is a lucky man. It is an honor for an American woman to be asked to grace the cover of a Japanese magazine. It would have been rude for her to refuse.”

“Why are you taking her side?” Amaya whined. “She is trying to make a name for herself with her ties to Aomori.”

“Ms. Morrison is a successful romance writer in America. Her latest book is number one on the best sellers list. She does not need Aomori to gain fame,” Yori said in Shaundra’s defense.

“Why are you sticking up for her?” Amaya asked.

“I’m not sticking up for her.” He needed a nice stiff drink. He signaled for one of the waiters hired to cater the evening event. He brought with him a tray of mixed drinks. Dai, being the eldest, chose the first glass, and Yori reached for a glass of Bourbon. The women declined alcohol and chose iced tea instead.

Yori scanned the room for Shaundra. He found her off in a corner at a table talking to Ichiro. From where he stood, the two of them seemed pretty friendly. Satoshi and Takumijo were entertaining the other two female Japanese authors and the one named Dorothy was in a heated conversation with John Sampson, their music arranger, and some of his friends.

Ichiro rose from his seat, helped Shaundra up and walked her over to the food. Yori gulped. The black dress she wore hugged all the right places. He rejoined the conversation just in time to see the pissed look on Amaya’s face. He finished his drink. Tonight, he’d entertained and pleased thousands of people, was on the top of the Asian music charts, engaged to a very lovely young woman, yet at that moment, he wished he could just walk away from the complication of it all. Maybe he should volunteer for his military duty early.

His body still ached from the performance. He would have preferred to go back to the hotel and go to bed, but Mr. Niigata and Masaaki insisted that they stay and fraternize with the public after their shows.

“How did you business meeting go?” Yori asked Dai as they headed toward the food. Amaya walked behind them with her mother, speaking rapidly in their dialect.

“It went well. The suppliers had some great material and I spent a lot of money. They are supposed to deliver it next week so we can begin using it in our fall designs.”

“Have you finalized your plans for the fall fashion show?” Every year, Dai and his company put on this fancy event to showcase their fashions.

“Yes, I only wished you and Aomori were free to work the runway. Just think of all the young women that would come if I had you there.”

“We’ll be on tour, but maybe next year.”

Satoshi and the others made it over to the buffet table and he introduced them to Mr. and Mrs. Saitama and, of course, they already knew Amaya. She quickly pulled Satoshi over to her. Luckily, Ichiro had taken Shaundra back to their seats before Amaya started asking Satoshi questions.