In Deep Kimchi (7 page)

Ichiro had tiny perfect features, creamy unblemished porcelain skin and a lithe frame. He also had blue eyes, a rarity in Japanese. His movements were graceful. That’s what she’d seen as she sat across from him yesterday at the meeting. If he’d been a woman, she would have had to consider him beautiful. The others were stunning, too, but they were not as feminine-looking as Ichiro. Damn, why did this bother her so? It wasn’t like they were her type. She liked strong, rugged men with rippling muscles and strong enough to toss a bull. Aomori was tall and had muscle, but they had a delicacy about them…like they needed to be protected. Did being lovely and delicate make them less of a man? For some reason, she didn’t think so.

“What are you watching so intently?” Harper asked her once the disk jockey took a break and the dancers returned to their seats.

“Ichiro,” Shaundra replied.

Everyone at the table turned in his direction and then looked back at her.

“What about him?” Harper asked.

“He’s the only one who didn’t get up to dance even though a young woman asked him.”

“Maybe he can’t dance,” Jackson replied as he picked up his drink.

“Ichiro is a quiet one,” Masaaki explained. “He’s into books and cooking and hopes to one day to be a great restaurateur.”

“I just figured he was gay,” Jackson said.

Masaaki chuckled. “Ichiro? No, I don’t think so. He has a bigger female fan base than the other three. He’s just the quiet type. I can’t wait for you to hear him sing. I was brought to tears the first time I heard him audition. He sang
Ave Maria
. Took all of us by surprise, including Mr. Niigata. No, Ichiro isn’t gay or vain. He’s just Ichiro. He cooks a mean ramen too.”

Shaundra looked over at Ichiro again and found him staring directly at her. She gulped. Those weren’t the eyes of a man interested in another man. Nope. Those were the eyes of a man who was interested in her.
Shit. What am I going to do now
?

The disk jockey returned and started spinning records again. This time, he chose the American song…Michael Jackson’s
Smooth Criminal
. Young people immediately sprung to their feet and headed back to the dance floor. Harper grabbed her hand and rose. “Come on, let’s show these kids a thing a two.”

Masaaki moved aside so she could pass by him and, before she knew it she and Harper were on the dance floor dancing like they were two teens. Dorothy and Jackson and the Asian authors joined them, leaving Riley and Masaaki alone at the table.

Harper was surprising light on his feet and knew the latest dance steps, but he was no match for the young Japanese once the disk jockey changed the music back to Japanese pop. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Shaundra looked up. It was Yori.

“I would like to dance with Ms. Morrison.”

From the look on Harper’s face, Shaundra deduced that Yori’s bluntness surprised him. “Sure, if Ms. Morrison doesn’t mind.”

“She doesn’t,” Yori answered for her. He stepped around Harper and took Shaundra’s hand.

Harper looked at her and all she could do was shrug her shoulders. Harper gave up and returned to the table.

“That was quite rude,” Shaundra replied as the music changed to a slow number. Yori pulled her into his arms.

“What is rude? I just wanted to dance with you.”

His English was not as limited as she thought.

He pressed her closer and her body molded into his. Her head rested comfortably against his chest. His earthy cologne tickled her nose and worked its way through her body like an aphrodisiac. “But I was already dancing with someone.”

“He’s your boss.”

“So?”

“I’m not.” He flawlessly dipped her and then pulled her back to him. She heard clapping, but chose to ignore it. Then, several cameras flashed. That, she could not ignore. She stiffened in Yori’s arms.

“What is wrong?” he asked.

“Someone took a picture of us.”

“So?”

“So? We can’t be photographed together.”

“Why not?”

“We just can’t. It’s not good for our careers.”

“People take pictures of me every day,” he said. “What’s one more?” He twirled her around and someone got a picture of that too.

Shaundra tried to look around him to see if she could spot the photographer. Damn, there were just too many people. Maybe Yori was accustomed to having his life in the news, but she wasn’t. He escorted her back to the table once the song ended and then went back to his friends.

* * * *

“You’re one crazy dude,” Satoshi said to Yori when he returned to their table. “Amaya is going to kick our ass for messing with Ms. Morrison.”

Yori sat down. “I am not missing with Ms. Morrison. I just like to dance with her. She is pretty good.”

“That dress is smoking,” Satoshi replied. “She’s put together nicely.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Yori replied as he sampled his drink.

“Liar.”

Takumijo watched him intently from across the table. “Of all the ladies in this club, why her? What’s so special about her?”

“There’s nothing special. She’s a real good dancer and she’s tall enough so I don’t have to stoop over when we dance slowly.”

“I think she’s pretty,” Ichiro announced.

Yori glanced over at him. This was a fine time for him to speak. “Yes, she’s very pretty.”

“And she has nice legs.”

Yori looked back on the dance floor. Shaundra was dancing with the Asian writer, Hideohi Chiba to DBSK’s
Miortic
and busting some very serious moves. Her “booty” bounced sensually beneath the black mini dress. His body stirred. The sight awoke all of his senses. A big behind was something most Asian women lacked.

“Hideohi is a real good dancer,” Satoshi replied. “The two of them look good together on the dance floor.”

Yori rolled his eyes at his friend. Satoshi had a way of prying, but not prying. How could he explain to them why he did the things he did with Shaundra Morrison when he did not understand why he did them? He had to remember that she was here on business and that she was older than he was, and that meant he should not be imagining what it would be like to kiss those full, brown lips.

A young woman approached the table and asked him to dance. Yori looked up at her. She was Korean, about twenty, with short brown hair and a pretty smile. She’d do. He rose and followed her.
Miortic
had ended and the disc jockey now played
Mystery
by B2ST. The young woman was a good dancer, but she lacked rhythm. His eyes wandered back toward the other table. Shaundra had returned and was busy pulling Masaaki to the dance floor. This was a first. Masaaki never danced when he accompanied them to a club, but here he was, moving around the floor with Shaundra and obviously knowing what he was doing.

The older woman, Dorothy, danced with Harper Kehoe while the other American men guarded the table.

Yori bowed to his partner after the song ended and returned to his friends. Satoshi and Takumijo were talking about lyrics to some song, but Ichiro continued to stare at the other table. “What’s up, baby brother?” Yori asked him.

“Nothing.” Ichiro lowered his eyes as if embarrassed.

Yori turned his attention on the group of authors. Shaundra Morrison had her legs crossed and was revealing quite a bit of thigh. That answered his question. Ichiro was embarrassed because he was caught ogling the author’s beautiful legs. No problem. At least that answered another question. Ichiro was definitely interested in women, and he had good taste.

“Aren’t we supposed to be socializing with them?” Satoshi asked. “Or at least sitting with them?”

“Probably,” Yori answered. He had entertained the idea when they first arrived, but not so much now that he knew that Shaundra was camera shy and that Ichiro was interested in her. He didn’t want to make either of them uncomfortable. “But this seems to be working out fine for all of us. We’re close enough.”

Satoshi rose.

“Where are you going?”

“To ask Ms. Morrison to dance.”

“Why?” Takumijo asked.

“Because I feel like it.” Satoshi strolled over to the other table. Shaundra looked over toward them and then accepted.

Yori lowered his sunglasses, looked over at her, and then pushed the glasses up and pretended disinterest.

* * * *

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” Masaaki asked everyone at the table once they’d given up dancing and were all nursing sore feet. He’d just returned after receiving a phone call.

Harper looked around to see if everyone was in agreement. Heads nodded up and down furiously.

“Good. I’m starved and my head hurts from the noise.”

Shaundra found his bluntness comical.

Masaaki pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Tell the boys we are leaving for dinner.” He hung up and rose, signaling to one of the guards. The guard leaned over and said something to Yori, who, in turn, told the other three. The four young men rose and walked around the dance floor until they arrived at the table with the authors. “We’re all going out to dinner,” Masaaki announced. He turned and everyone followed him out of the club.

“Where are we going?” Riley asked Harper as Masaaki began to walk.

“I have no idea. Since they’re Japanese, I think it’s safe to say that we’re going to a Japanese restaurant.”

The idea both delighted and frightened Shaundra. To eat authentic Japanese food would be fun and interesting. She just hoped she wasn’t required to use chopsticks. She’d hate to waste anything on her dress.

Shaundra and Harper caught up with Masaaki. “Where are the limousines?” Harper asked.

“I sent them ahead to the restaurant parking lot. Too much traffic.”

They stood on a busy sidewalk near the club and waited for the others to catch up. Bumper to bumper traffic passed on the street before them.

“So, how are we supposed to get there?” Harper asked.

“Walk,” Masaaki answered him. “It’s just three blocks away.”

The announcement was met with several groans from the Americans. Shaundra looked down at her heels. Had she known, she would have opted for different shoes.

“Shibuya is beautiful by night,” Masaaki explained as they began walking again down Dogenzaka. They had enough people with them to be considered a tour group. The only problem they had was moving quickly amongst the hundreds of people out walking with them.

“What is this area called?” Jackson asked as he looked around like a kid.

“Center Gai,” Masaaki explained. They walked through a narrow street, which had a Starbucks. “It is the birthplace of many fashion trends.” They passed by a busy pedestrian zone lined with stores, boutiques, nightclubs and restaurants. He took them pass Tuntanna Silver Shop, a small café and a Sapporo ramen restaurant. “Over there is Shibuya Station,” Masaaki continued to explain. He pointed. People exited it as he spoke.

Shaundra looked up. There were three huge televisions screens attached to the sides of three buildings. As if by magic, they all three began playing the same announcement simultaneously.

“Look, it’s our commercial,” Takumijo said to Yori and the others.

Everyone stopped and watched the promotion for Aomori’s upcoming concerts at the Tokyo Dome. It featured a couple of clips from their previous concerts. Harper told them that they were all going to attend. She didn’t like the idea at first, but the promotion had peaked her interest, especially when she’d seen
Aomori
in costume.