Loving Jiro (5 page)

"Great, then you can spend it with Ayumi and me,” he offered. “I try to spend as much time with her during the summer months as possible. Today, we will go to the beach. Before I came back, I picked up the picnic basket Cook made for us."

Cook?
“The beach? I haven't been there in years.” She shook her head. “Too busy chasing after the dollar."

"Good, then you'll come.” He smiled, and she pretended his gentleness didn't make her want to cry.

"I can't. I don't have a suit. Like I said, I haven't been in years.” By this time, they had rejoined Ayumi in the lobby with Eiji.

Ayumi threw her arms around Kiara. “Did Jiro-san ask you about going to the beach with us, Ms. Kiara? Please say you'll come. Please? Jiro-san is boring at the beach. He doesn't do anything but read reports and talk on his cell phone. I want someone to come who will play with me."

Kiara grimaced, but forced a smile. “I don't own a swimsuit, sweetie. Like I was telling your brother. I haven't been to the beach in a while."

The facts didn't bother Ayumi. “That's okay. Jiro-san can buy you one."

"Ayumi!” Jiro frowned. “That's very inappropriate."

Unperturbed, Ayumi tapped her jaw thinking. “Well, it's a private beach, so what's wrong with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt? Come on, Ms. Kiara, you know you want to."

Kiara laughed. “I guess I do want to. It's been so hot lately."

The little girl wiggled her eyebrows. “Yes, it has. And we've got lots of food. Cook made all my favorites."

"Okay, okay, I'll go.” She thought about whether it was safe to go back home to get a change of clothing. Normally, Odell went out during the day and only returned when he knew she was back from work. They could get in and out quickly, or she could. She would not allow Ayumi or her brother inside her tiny home. They would probably think it was no bigger than a closet at their house. Then again, she could be stereotyping the rich. Their house could be moderate-sized and Jiro just liked being carted around in a limo.
Yeah right.

Jiro, who had been standing by quietly while his sister did the convincing, moved up behind her. “Well then, it's settled. Let's go."

Kiara dragged in a shuddering breath. He was so near, she felt the heat of his body, but he didn't touch her. Common sense told her to stop going out with these two, to keep everything on a professional level, but Jiro Fuschida spelled temptation, and right now, she didn't have the power to resist.

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"Jiro."

"Hmm?” He looked up, his eyes hidden behind his glasses.

Kiara brushed sand from her fingers and legs, trying to force herself to broach the subject she had been thinking about ever since that morning. “What did you mean when you said you know I'm hurting and you can make it stop?"

He reached out to stroke her hair, which hung across half her face. When he tucked it behind her ear, she moved away, but he quickly caught her chin. She didn't resist. His thumb brushed the bruise on her cheek before his fingers trailed down to her jaw and then to her neck. A chill shook her.

"Five years ago,” he began, “a man who thought he deserved to get a large percentage of my family's holdings took it upon himself to take my mother, father and brother for ransom, to force my grandfather to pay him. I had flown to Fukuoka with Ayumi to check out a school for her there. By the time, I returned, my grandfather had already refused to pay anything and my parents and brother were dead."

She put up a hand to cover his. “I'm so sorry, Jiro. I know how much that hurts, and to think your grandfather did nothing."

His mouth tightened. She wondered if he considered her insulting his grandfather. “I'm sorry,” she said again, dropping her hand to her lap. She would have moved away, but he caught her hand.

"What I have to live with,” he explained, “is that Grandfather asked me to get ... involved. I had refused. Now, it was too late and my family was dead because of me not him."

She couldn't believe he would blame himself for a madman. And none of this explained why he had said what he did to her earlier.

"Kiara, you must think about what you can live with, without regret, or with it, in order to live your life in safety.” He released her hand, and she stood, took her hair out from behind her ear and strolled over to where Ayumi built a sand castle.

"Need some help?” she offered.

Ayumi grinned. “Sure."

They worked together shaping the sand, running back and forth with a bucket for more water and using cups to form towers and the keep. Ayumi dug the moat and then spent the better part of forty-five minutes trying to fill it. The water kept being absorbed into the sand. Finally, she gave up and sat back on her haunches.

"Well, it still looks great. Don't you think, Ms. Kiara?"

Kiara nodded. “Yes, I think we did well, if I do say so myself."

Ayumi moved to stand. “Let's show it to Jiro-san. He'll be impressed."

Kiara grabbed her arm. “Wait. Not just yet, okay?"

The girl hesitated. Her wise little eyes bore into Kiara, making her squirm, like she knew all of Kiara's insecurities, just as her brother seemed to know. Ayumi's gaze dropped to the sand, and she idly scooped moist sand from the moat. “You found out what he does, didn't you? And now you don't like him."

Kiara gasped. “W-What he does?"

She nodded. “Yes, that he's an assassin, kills people for a living."

Her head beginning to spin, Kiara put up a hand to her temple. She wanted to deny Ayumi's words, chalk them down to the active imagination of a nine-year-old, but she couldn't. Jiro had been hesitant about saying exactly what he did. And he had said he could help her, but she would need to be able to accept her decision without regret. Why would she need to think about regret if Jiro were only offering her a way out that didn't weigh on her conscious?

Ayumi had said it so matter-of-factly. This type of lifestyle was apparently normal to her. To deliberately take another person's life was wrong.
Assassin?
That meant someone out there decided they wanted another dead, and they paid Jiro to do it. She glanced over her shoulder at him sitting calmly in his chair. As usual, she couldn't see his eyes, but he had seemed to be the nicest person she had ever met, if a little on the stiff side. Underneath it all, he was a ruthless killer. That goes to show what a poor judge of character she was.

Taking for granted that Kiara accepted her brother's vocation, Ayumi stood and pulled Kiara to her feet. “Come on, let's go for a swim."

They ran hand-in-hand to the water. Kiara echoed Ayumi's shriek at the chilly spray, and then they boldly splashed into it until they could dip down neck deep. Teeth chattering, Kiara stumbled backward when Ayumi flicked water on her and bumped into a hard chest. She turned to find Jiro gazing down at her wet T-shirt.

"Oh, sorry.” She looked down too realizing her nipples were clearly defined. She crossed her arms over her chest and squatted again.

"No harm done.” He smiled. “I decided to prove my little sister wrong when she said I never have any fun at the beach. I'm proud to say I did not take one phone call or read one report."

Ayumi whooped and threw herself into her brother's arms. Kiara laughed. A Japanese Americanized girl probably threw his whole ordered life off kilter. She had a suspicion that no matter how much he tried, Ayumi would be her own woman when she grew up. She might respect his traditions, but embracing them was a different matter entirely.

"Let's have a race,” Ayumi suggested. “I've been practicing my swimming and I'm pretty sure I can beat you, Jiro-san."

He smirked. “I doubt that."

"Well?” she challenged.

His grin included Kiara. “All right. Will you join us, Kiara?"

She shook her head. “Oh no, you two go ahead. In fact, if you go down a little ways and swim toward me, I will be the judge."

They agreed and moved off while Kiara watched them. Jiro didn't show much affection in public, but she knew he adored Ayumi and vice versa. They stood teasing each other with words as Jiro enjoyed doing, neither in a hurry to race. Kiara glanced around the area. Ayumi had been right about the beach being private. Not a soul occupied it other than them. On the sand, looking hot and sweaty in a suit, Eiji stood at attention.

She considered what Ayumi had told her and thought that Eiji wasn't a babysitter so much as a bodyguard. The knowledge chilled her. She wondered if he had a gun under his jacket and if that was why he didn't remove it in this heat. As perceptive as Ayumi was, she prayed that the girl was mistaken about Jiro. But how could she be? Surely he hadn't admitted it to her, had he? Was knowing all aspects of what her family was involved in a part of her upbringing even if she was too young to know?

Questions swirled in her mind, including the question of whether she would tell Jiro she could no longer teach Ayumi if it turned out that he really did kill people for a living. That decision, accepting him as he was, was another challenge. And maybe it was what he was getting to when he asked her about living with her decisions.

Ayumi looked up from her drawing. “Ms. Kiara?"

"Hmm?"

"I've enjoyed these last few weeks with you,” she said shyly. Kiara put down her notebook to smile at the girl. So had she, but she didn't admit how much. “Not just the lessons,” Ayumi admitted. “The lunches and the spending time together. I know we had to drag you along many times, but I think it was good for you too."

Kiara dropped her gaze. “It was, but...” She hesitated to continue. How could she admit that Odell was pressuring her to drop her most profitable student? Why? Why did they have to go back to the apartment that last time for her to change her clothes? She had not imagined that Odell would be there. One look at Jiro, and he had hit the roof. Now she was a dirty whore selling herself to foreigners, according to him.

"You think I'm some kind of fool, Kiara?” he had demanded, twisting her arm painfully. “Get your ass out there and tell him you ain't going, that you changed your mind."

"But Odell, I already said—” she began.

He smacked her with the back of his hand, hard enough to sting, not enough to bruise or swell. “Tell him you're not going. No, scratch that. Tell him you won't be able to teach his brat anymore either."

Her eyes had widened in shock. “Odell, his money is what I gave you last night. You know how iffy my work is right now. Please, we can't afford not to have this student. I won't go anywhere with them from now on, okay? Let's just leave it at that."

He had eyed her with disgust, playing with his goatee. “Okay, from now on you don't go anywhere with them, just teach the girl and that's it."

"Great—"

"And ... whatever he pays you, you give it directly to me. Otherwise, you quit."

A little sunshine, just a little is all she wanted, and Odell wanted to snatch it away. What choice had she had? None. She had sent Ayumi and Jiro on their way saying she had forgotten an appointment she couldn't miss. They had argued for her to reschedule it, but she stood firm. Now here she was wondering how she would tell Ayumi that there would be no more outings with her.

Ayumi's eyes sparkled. “So many times I hoped that my brother would settle down and get a girlfriend who would last for a while, one that was nice and who would spend time with me. For a while, I could pretend I had a mother like other girls."

Kiara's head spun. There was no response that would be adequate or satisfying to the girl. She was in no position to even pretend to be a mother figure to Ayumi. Jiro and she were not dating. “Ayumi, you understand that I'm not dating Jiro. In fact, I have a boyfriend."

"Not one that's any good."

Her eyes widened, and then she became angry. For once, she saw the frustration Jiro had in handling Ayumi. “That's none of your business, and you shouldn't be commenting on what you don't know."

Tears filled the girl's eyes. “I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me, Ms. Kiara. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I would never want to do that."

Kiara said nothing. She closed her notebook and sat it on the desk. She glanced up to see that Eiji was in his usual spot, and she left Ayumi sitting in her chair while she crossed to the hall leading to the bathroom. Once inside, she let her tears fall. For a few minutes, she indulged in self-pity and then blew her nose, wiped her face and turned to go. A man blocked the exit. She cried out and stumbled back away from him.

"See this, Ms. Jackson?” He held up a gun with a silencer on the end. Her chest constricted. “If you don't cooperate with me, I will put a bullet through your heart, and then I will put one in that pretty girl. Do you want that?"

She couldn't find her voice, but shook her head.

"Good.” He flipped unkempt blond hair back over his forehead. “I want you to lean out the door and call Ayumi to you. If the bodyguard looks suspicious, say you need Ayumi to bring your purse, because you have female issues. Got it?"

Forcing herself to calm down, she swallowed. “Just take me, okay? Leave Ayumi out of this."

He laughed. “Why would I do that? She is the prize, not you. Although I will take you too to keep her in line. I hate kids.” He waved the gun. “Do it now."

Searching her mind for some way of escape, Kiara leaned out the bathroom door. She did not want to put Ayumi at risk, and wondered if she could somehow signal to Eiji that someone was in the bathroom with her. As she leaned out about to call, a girl she had seen around the center skipped up to the door. Kiara blocked the way. “Sorry, sweetie, there's a problem in here. Can you use the one on the second floor?"

The girl nodded and hurried away. A jab in Kiara's back made her cry out. “Get on with it,” the man whispered.

"A-Ayumi, c-can you bring me my purse please?” she called.

The man behind her growled. “You can do better than that. She barely heard you. Call her again, and this time, stop the damn quivering in your voice."

She swallowed, willing Jiro to come, but they still had an hour to go in the lesson. She remembered surmising whether he took off to kill someone in between dropping Ayumi off and picking her up. Surely, it didn't work that neatly. In the weeks she had known him, she had deftly avoided confronting him about his work. The joy of the moments in his presence, living for even such a short period without fear, had been indescribable. Now she wasn't so sure, not with a gun pressed in her back.