Discouraged, Elle reconsidered a boob job. Why shouldn’t she get one? Just a lift, something to keep them from sagging. Was that so terrible? After seeing the unflattering picture of herself online, in addition to her usual Botox, Elle had gotten some Restylane. Only a little under her eyes and in the laugh lines around her mouth. She had been pleased with the results; Win and Angela had both commented on how rested she looked. Brynnie hadn’t said anything, so Elle was sure she didn’t suspect the truth. So why not get a boob job and even a tummy tuck, too? Her stomach got flabbier by the day, no matter how many sit-ups she did. Brynnie wouldn’t need to know. She could do it in the fall, when her daughter was away at college. Yes, that’s what she would do.
“How’s your speech coming along?” Win leaned across Elle and placed his hand on her lap, distracting her from thoughts of the perfect body.
Upon Win’s suggestion, Elle was going to give the opening remarks at the press conference announcing Martin Global’s partnership with Tsugunai. He thought it was a great idea; Elle had, after all, lived in Japan and could speak the language—why not show off a little?
Elle had been reluctant—it had been a long time since she had spoken Japanese—but Win was so clearly excited by this idea, so proud to have his wife speak, she could hardly say no. It was wonderful to be so appreciated by Win. Elle still tensed up, as if by a defensive reflex, when her husband touched her, but it was getting better. She was trying.
Of equal importance, Brynnie also seemed impressed that her mom would be addressing the crowd in Japanese. Elle was determined to make her daughter proud and if speaking in Japanese at a press conference would help, she would do it.
“I’m almost done. Would you care to see what I have so far?” Elle opened her laptop.
Ainsley leaned over the back of her seat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but did I hear you say Mrs. Martin is giving a speech?”
So Ainsley was on a first name basis with Win, but she was Mrs. Martin. Elle wanted to claw her eyes out.
“Yes. She’ll be opening the press conference. She used to live in Tokyo and can speak Japanese. Isn’t that great?” Win smiled proudly at Elle.
Take that, Princess.
“How wonderful. I just wish I had known; it would have been good to get a shot of her working on the speech for the documentary. Maybe we can get it at the hotel?”
“That would be lovely, but I don’t think it’s necessary.” Elle couldn’t imagine anything worse. She wanted as little to do with the documentary as possible. She looked to Win for his support.
“That’s right. Let’s limit the cameras to our team’s interactions with the Tsugunai staff, though I do want Elle’s opening remarks to be filmed.” Win smiled at his wife. It was a dagger to the heart—she didn’t deserve him.
Ainsley pouted, her plumped-up lips downturned sadly, like a five-year-old who didn’t win at Pin the Tail on the Donkey. “Okay, but think about it. It would really add to the story we’re telling.”
Story? Ainsley had no idea what she was talking about. She was chronicling a business deal—that was all. Elle was the one with a story to maintain.
Irritated, Elle put her head back against the recliner. If only she could have brought Duke along. Win had tried to gain permission, but Japanese laws were firm. Their dog would have been forced to stay quarantined in a kennel for the duration of the trip.
Elle tried to get comfortable. The last few weeks had been challenging. Her disturbing nightmares with the rabid animals had returned with alarming frequency. Even worse, Aubrey had been relentless in her revenge against Brynnie, and Elle had yet to come up with an effective strategy for dealing with her unwarranted insinuations. She wouldn’t have cared so much if she were the subject of all the gossip, but it grieved Elle to know Brynnie was being scrutinized. Time away from that situation was the only positive thing about a return to Japan.
That and the possibility of finding Mitch again. Elle had resolved to spend some time looking for him while she was in Tokyo and had brought along the key to their old apartment with her. It wouldn’t likely be helpful, but it gave Elle comfort to have the reminder of Mitch with her.
Everything else regarding her return to Japan filled Elle with trepidation. She was convinced some sort of reconciliation with her past was inevitable. There had been too many signs pointing to it for her to ignore. Even though her children were far too old to be obsessed with the Disney movie Frozen, Elle could not escape its theme song “Let It Go.” It seemed to be everywhere; she heard its message of confronting an uncomfortable past every time she went into any retail store. Nauseating as the song could be, Elle’s constantly hearing it had to mean something.
And even if she didn’t count “Let It Go” as a sign, there was the Florence + the Machine song “Shake It Out” to consider. It had come on the very morning of Win’s announcement regarding Japan, and it seemed to be on the radio all the time now. The song’s lyrics about a devil on your back and not being able to leave the past behind certainly portended trouble.
Elle wasn’t sure exactly what all these signs meant, but she knew the danger of not taking them seriously. She had made that mistake once before with disastrous results. She would pay close attention. Still, it couldn’t be that bad. Elle tried to be logical; it had been over twenty years since she lived in Tokyo. It was a huge city with millions of people in it. No one would remember her. What could possibly happen?
Elle’s initial plan had been to take an Ambien and sleep during the flight. At her request, Win got a prescription of his own ahead of the trip, so she no longer needed to ration her supply. Between worrying about Tokyo and Aubrey, and the return of her nightmares, Elle hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks and was looking forward to a nice long siesta. But having Ainsley on board messed everything up. As if she didn’t have enough on her mind already, Elle now had to deal with Little Miss Organic Makeup flirting with her husband for the next thirteen hours. She considered the Ambien and the reason she had been so desperate to get more of it and was ashamed.
The truth was, Elle was nervous about the prospect of sharing a hotel bed with Win. She loved, respected, and even liked her husband, yet Elle dreaded sex with him. At some point along the way—perhaps around the time she reverted to wearing her grannie panties—sex had become a chore. It was like going to the DMV to renew your driver’s license, an act that wasn’t looked forward to but needed to be done.
Like her explanation for why she preferred to sleep in the guest room—she was a light sleeper and Win snored—Elle could use the Ambien as an excuse to avoid sex by saying she was exhausted from jet lag and needed the drug to help her sleep.
But how could Elle deny her husband sex with a more than willing Ainsley eager to step in and take her place? Ainsley wouldn’t flinch when Win touched her. She definitely still wore sexy underwear or none at all. And those lips? Those lips were made to give blow jobs.
Elle couldn’t remember the last time she had French-kissed Win, let alone engaged in oral sex with him. What had happened to the girl who wore the sexy underwear? When had she become so frigid?
There was no way Elle could take an Ambien as planned. No, for Ainsley’s benefit, as well as her own, she would stay awake and be the model attentive wife, spending the plane ride trying to learn more from Win about the deal he was brokering. It was for the best. Sex notwithstanding, Elle truly was trying harder to make her marriage work. And she was sincerely interested in the company Martin Global was working with; its name “Tsugunai” was the Japanese word for atonement. Somehow, this seemed symbolic. A hopeful sign bobbing in a rough sea of otherwise distressing signs.
Signs. Elle needed one. Something to tell her she didn’t need to worry about the trip—or Ainsley. She would listen for one and then direct her full attention toward Win. Elle put in her earbuds and turned on her iPod. She pushed play, hoping something good would come on. Maybe a U2 song. That would be the best.
Instead, it was “Love The O
ne You’re With” by Stephen Stills. This had been one of her mom’s favorite songs. For a moment, Elle was once again the young girl at the bar watching Bobbie sing along to the song with her throaty voice and jiggly boobs while serving drinks to men in baseball caps smoking Marlboros with their dirty fingers.
Elle could now smile at the reminder of her mom, but she couldn’t see how the song applied to her current situation. The next song would absolutely be the one that told her what to expect.
Elle waited. Florence + the Machine’s “Shake It Out” came on.
Oh, no!
There was no denying it. A confrontation with her past was inevitable. But when? And how? Elle didn’t want to deal with it. Ainsley and her perky boobs be damned. She would take an Ambien now.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bruno Mars: “Count On Me”
May 10, 1994
8:41 p.m.
“Suck my dick!” Mitch smiled gregariously as he raised his small glass high in the air toward the businessmen who had sent over the expensive sake. He turned to Elle, laughing. “That line might have gotten me fired, but I still love it. I mean, truly, can you think of a better way to say ‘cheers’?”
“Nothing immediately comes to mind.” Elle clinked her glass against Mitch’s. “Here’s to the birthday boy.”
Elle and Mitch each threw their heads back and drank their sake in one large gulp. The warm rice wine tasted sweet in Elle’s mouth. She and Mitch were both pretty buzzed; they were at a sushi bar in downtown Ginza, and the clientele had been exceedingly generous in plying them with free drinks all night.
Although Tak had to use his connections to get them a table at the popular restaurant, he was unable to join them. An avid soccer fan, he was hosting a party at Samantha’s for the Japanese national team, which had scrimmaged a team from Brazil earlier in the day. Without Tak’s presence, it was like old times between the two friends. They were joking, laughing, and thoroughly enjoying themselves.
It was all going according to Elle’s plan.
She reached down between her legs to grab her purse; Mitch’s birthday present was in it. Elle needed to be careful. Inside the purse was one of the plastic containers filled with cocaine Tak had given her. She didn’t want to risk Mitch seeing it.
“Oh dear God, no!” Mitch shook his head with disapproval as he spied Elle’s purse. It was in the shape of a Hello Kitty head. “That might be the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen.”
“I know!” Elle agreed. “I have no clue why a smiling cat with a pink bow is all the rage here. Tak gave it to me a few days ago. My plan is to ‘lose it’ in the very near future.”
“Or you could give it me. It would make a good dart board.”
Elle reached carefully into the purse and pulled out a small square box gift-wrapped in brown construction paper with a bright yellow bow. She hoped Mitch would appreciate that she remembered yellow was his favorite color. She handed the package to him. “Happy Birthday!”
Mitch admired the present. “Your wrapping job is very Japanese. Well done. Nice touch with the yellow bow.”
Elle smiled; he had noticed.
Mitch began to unwrap the gift, then stopped. “Oh, I totally forgot. You got a letter from the States. It was at the apartment. Did you get it?”
Elle’s stomach tightened. She wanted to tell Mitch about her mom, but not tonight. Tonight was all about fun and setting him up with Kenji. “Yeah, I got it. It was from my grandma. No biggie.”
“Grandma? You never mentioned a grandmother . . .”
“Seriously, you’re going to talk about my grandma when you have that amazing present in your lap? Don’t you want to know what it is?”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Mitch enthusiastically tore the wrapping off the gift and opened the box, revealing two plane tickets to London. Elle had splurged and upgraded the tickets to first class. Why not? She could still afford to pay for a nice hotel—one with room service and a doorman—and there was plenty of cash in the Mitch and Elle’s Adventure Jar for spending money. It was the ideal time to take their trip. She hoped Mitch would be pleased.
Mitch surveyed the tickets, eyes wide in surprise. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as a heart attack. What do you think?”
“I think it’s fucking awesome!” Mitch seemed excited, but then he paused, squinting his eyes ever so slightly. “How could you afford these? First class? They must have cost a fortune.”
“Let’s just say I got a good severance package when I quit the Big YAC.” It was imperative that Mitch accept this explanation without question. Elle wasn’t sure she could convincingly lie to him about where the money for the tickets had really come from.
Mitch pursed his lips and looked at her quizzically. Elle sensed he was debating whether to push her for more information. If so, he decided against it and changed the subject. “How does Mr. Pink feel about this trip?”
“Don’t worry about him.” Elle casually waved her hand.
“Really? You think he’s going to be okay with this?”
“It doesn’t matter what he thinks. I’m going to break up with him.”
“Is that so?” Mitch perked up, leaning forward against the table. “Do tell.”
Elle wasn’t sure what to say. The scuba-diving trip she had taken the past weekend with Tak and Sugar Puss had been horrible. Tak was moody and increasingly controlling. He was easily angered and snapped at her the way he did with Johnny and Mike. Elle no longer had the upper hand in the relationship and it scared her.
And all the drug use had gotten out of control. Elle hadn’t wanted to carry the cocaine in the plastic tube inside her on the plane; it was a reckless thing to do. She had resisted right up to the very end, but Tak had been so cruelly insistent, she had finally acquiesced—it was easier than arguing with him. Elle had been so ashamed of her weakness, she had gotten terrifically drunk on the plane ride and passed out.
The rest of the trip had been a total disaster. Elle didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to party, and didn’t want Tak to touch her. She went as far as to lie and say she had her period as an excuse to avoid having sex with him. Tak was so enraged by this news that he had thrown a beer bottle against a wall. Frightened, Elle claimed she had a fever and spent the rest of the weekend alone in her hotel room.
This self-imposed sobriety had given Elle a chance to assess her situation. Mitch had been right all along. Tak was bad news, and she was in over her head. It was time to stop all the blow and end it with Tak—after Mitch’s birthday. It was critical she get through that first.
Elle hadn’t been a good friend to Mitch and he deserved more. To assure she would be a fun partner for his birthday celebration, she had kept one of the unused plastic containers of cocaine Tak had given her. She had done a line before dinner, reasoning that once this supply was gone, she would quit using altogether.
But Elle couldn’t tell Mitch any of this; he would freak. Instead, she demurred, “I don’t know. It’s run its course. Besides, I miss hanging out with you.” This, at least, was true.
“Well, I can’t say I’m sorry. You know how I feel about Mr. Pink.” Mitch looked intently at Elle. “I do think it’s for the best. I worry about you. He’s a bad dude and you’re doing way too much blow with him.”
Elle stiffened. How could Mitch know? Had he somehow seen the coke in her purse? “What are you talking about?” Elle was a skilled liar, but this sounded insincere, even to her.
“Oh, c’mon, Elle. I could tell the first time you did it up in Tak’s office when I was talking to Kenji at the bar.”
Elle should have known as much. Mitch was as highly perceptive as she was, and he did know her better than anyone. It wouldn’t do any good to try to lie to him. “Okay, you’re right, I have done it with him a few times,” she looked down at her drink, afraid to make eye contact, “but I’m not doing it anymore.”
“Bullshit flag! You’re high right now.”
How does he
know? Was she acting that differently? Elle thought she seemed fine.
Elle looked directly at Mitch with confidence. What she was going to say wasn’t a lie, she was going to stop. She would dump what was left of the cocaine down the toilet. “No honestly, I’m not doing it anymore.”
“Here’s the thing, Elle. You know I party just as much as the next guy, and drinking, the occasional joint, that’s one thing. But coke, ecstasy, heroin—those synthetic drugs are a whole different deal. They’re not for people like us. They’re too addicting. We aren’t designed for the self-control needed to say no to that kind of pleasure.” Mitch took Elle’s hand in his. “Trust me.”
“I know. I’m done with the coke. And Tak. Really. I am.”
Mitch rubbed the top of Elle’s hand. “Good.” He took a long drag from his cigarette. “Look, if you’re going to give Tak the Heisman—as much as I would love to see that—I don’t think it’s such a good idea for us to go to Samantha’s tonight.”
Elle agreed—the last person she wanted to see was Tak—but going to Samantha’s was essential to her plan. Once Kenji’s bartending shift was over, he was going to present Mitch with the keys to a love hotel. Elle had picked out the room—it had an absurd and kitschy aquatic theme; Mitch would love it.
“The thing is, I have a little birthday surprise and it is waiting for you at Samantha’s.”
“What are you up to, Miss Kitty?”
“Well, someone I know has had several conversations with a certain sexy bartender, and me thinks he’s very interested in seeing you at Samantha’s tonight.”
Mitch slammed his hand down in disbelief. “Shut up!”
“I will not!”
Grannie Panties Are UnderRated Page 18