Northwest Romantic Comedies: Boxed Set Books 1-6

by Lia London

  Chieko stood up, pressing her palms to the table. “You know what, Mom? Hold off on ordering the sake yet. I have something I need to do.”

  ***

  The receptionist beamed at Chieko. “Go ahead and knock. I won’t announce you, so it’ll be more romantic this way.”

  “Right.” Chieko gave the woman a thin smile and drummed her fingertips on the door. Without waiting for a response, she opened the door a few inches. “Charles?”

  A cluttered desk dominated the middle of an enormous office. The space exuded a careless regard for money because there was too much of it at hand. Expensive vases cradled office supplies, and lavish wall hangings shared space with post-its and whiteboards.

  The man himself sat hunched at a computer terminal propped on an antique escritoire in the corner. He glanced up, clearly irritated by the intrusion, but then his eyes widened.

  “Chieko!” he called enthusiastically.

  “Charles,” she replied in a measured tone.

  He rose and came to her, clasping both of her hands in his. “Did all the wedding planning get you thinking about me?”

  “Definitely.” She tried to slip her hands free.

  “You’re not wearing the ring I gave you.”

  “Um. No. I’m not.” She tugged a little harder, and he released her hands. Retrieving the ring from an inner pocket in her purse, she held it up. “There was a problem with it.”

  “Not big enough?”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t fit?”

  She shook her head, summoning the courage to play the part she needed. Flashbacks of her time on Who Wants to Be a Soap Star rushed through her mind, giving her confidence. With a glimmer of a wicked smile, she slipped into character.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Not sure?” Charles’ usual placid smile drooped. “Haven’t you tried it on?”

  “We didn’t really get that far, remember?” She held the ring up to him. “You forgot to wait for my answer before you swooped me into a big kiss.” She managed to keep the shudder imperceptible.

  “But you said ‘Please’.”

  Chieko gave him a patronizing smile. “Oh Charles, you took that out of context. You see, I meant to say, ‘Please, not here in front of this crowd.’”

  Charles brightened again. “Oh. You wanted a more intimate proposal?” He inched closer. “So you could respond more personally?”

  Chieko licked her lips, her pulse quickening. Could she really do this? Pressing against his chest, she lowered her voice. “Do I have your attention now?”

  He purred his assent, and his hands moved to clutch her body, and his mouth moved towards her neck like a vampire.

  Chieko kept herself steady as she whispered. “I don’t know if the ring fits because I don’t know who will be wearing it.”

  Charles froze, confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  How could a man this successful not catch the subtext?

  “Charles,” she said. “Listen.”

  He gave a gurgling moan and resumed his attack on her neck, kissing her from her shoulder to her hairline in one continuous slurp. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait. We should get married soon. Maybe next week. Can you get everything together in that time?”

  Chieko grabbed the side of his face to keep him from sliming her further, and then turned it into a tender gesture. “Yes, let’s talk about the wedding date.”

  “Let’s.” His forehead rested against hers, his hands pawing lower and lower down her back.

  Keeping their faces connected, Chieko reached back and grabbed his hands just as they landed on her rear. “What do you think of a Christmas wedding?”

  His fingertips wriggled from hers to give her bottom a squeeze. “That’ll make for a very merry Christmas.”

  Chieko captured his hands again, this time forcefully twisting them away from her body. “In 2082.”

  “Twenty eighty—but I’ll be dead by then.”

  “Yes, you’re catching on.” Chieko thrust him away from her and stepped back. “Charles, I’m not going to marry you. You never gave me the chance to respond, but my answer is no way.”

  Charles blinked and sat awkwardly on the edge of his desk. “No?”

  “No way. Not now or ever.” She stared at his piteous face. “Charles, you don’t love me. You don’t even know me.”

  “Of course, I do. I know your parents, and—”

  “And I’m nothing much like them.” Sympathetic, but still firm, she softened her stance. “Charles, I love my family and the Japanese culture, but I am not ready to be your traditional wife. You don’t want me. You don’t need me. You could take your pick of status-seeking beauty brides. Pick someone else.”

  Charles sat taller, his brows drawing together. “You’re turning me down? Don’t you know who I am?”

  “Yes, Charles,” she said wearily. “But you don’t know who I am.” She let out a sardonic laugh. “I don’t even know who I am, but I’m not going to let you or anyone else mold me before I have a chance to figure it out.”

  “What’s gotten into you, Chieko?”

  Chieko palmed her face. “What’s gotten into me?” She smiled wistfully at a memory montage of Barth’s shimmies and grins. “The idea that someone could love me for more than my body or the appearance of a status-approved marriage. The idea that my thoughts might matter to someone. That a man might honor and value my opinions and abilities. Maybe even look up to me a little.”

  Charles actually snickered, and it made Chieko cringe. “Chieko, we both know you were not a good student. You are not the most beautiful woman I could choose. But you are an appropriate match.”

  “Match? Like socks?” Chieko shook her head and placed her hand on the door knob. “You’ve made my point perfectly, Charles. You can find someone who matches you much better. I’m in the mood for someone who clashes a little. Someone unexpected. Someone who might—who will allow me to grow.” She stood taller. “I want mismatched socks, Charles.”

  “You’re making a big mistake!”

  Chieko opened the door. “You’re speaking in clichés.”

  “I won’t ask again.”

  “How convenient because I won’t see you again.” She turned to the bewildered receptionist. “Do you have a public-address intercom?”

  “Um.” The woman pointed uncertainly at a landline phone. “Line 4.”

  Chieko punched the number and grabbed the receiver. “This is Chieko Makiguchi informing all eligible women that Charles Sato is once again available. Feel free to pursue him if you enjoy being human Play-doh in the hands of a spoiled child.” She glared back at Charles, who stood open-mouthed in his door. “To clarify, there will be no wedding between myself and Mr. Sato. I never said yes. It was a sloppy misunderstanding. Please, go on about your day, and gossip about this on social media to your heart’s content.”

  She slammed the phone down and nodded her thanks to the receptionist. Then, with her best version of a “top exec strut”, she took the scenic route past all the open office doors and waved graciously to all the cameras filming the incident for the internet’s enjoyment.

  In her car at last, she trembled and allowed the tears to fall. She’d surely be disowned.

  And Barth? Who knew if he would ever give her a chance or extend forgiveness?

  But no matter what, Chieko Makiguchi would set her own expectations from now on.

  Barth stared at his reflection in the mirror. The shirt fit well enough, though it pulled a little tight across the chest. He sighed, missing his football gear. U of O was famous for its stylish jerseys, and now he stood garbed in a brown UPS uniform.

  “You’re going to be loved like Santa Claus,” said Charlene, leaning against the door jamb. “Everyone knows UPS guys are really elves in disguise this time of year.”

  “I’m glad they’re hiring on extra people for seasonal work. It gives me until January to get something better.”

  “I’m glad yo
u’ll be able to keep up on the rent.”

  Barth nodded. “And you’ve got classes and rehearsals in the afternoon and evening, while I’m working the day shift, so you won’t even have to deal with me.”

  “We’re a match made in heaven.” Charlene chuckled and tightened her ponytail before heading back to her room.

  Barth considered the fair-skinned woman with platinum hair who reminded him slightly of his mother. She had been thicker-waisted, and her light locks had been courtesy of Clairol. Both were petite, though.

  Like Chieko.

  He had nothing to offer her. No fame, no financial stability, not even many things in common. But she’d never made him feel like a loser.

  Barth flexed. He’d never been a loser.

  Or a quitter.

  So why would he quit when the whole Charles Sato thing blew up? Chieko sounded like she wanted him to fight for her, but the whole incident was an angry, confused blur.

  Maybe he could call once more to smooth things over. She was never going to be his, but at least they could separate on positive terms. He hated ending the relationship on such a negative note. Not when she had sparked something inside of him so hopeful and new.

  Chewing his lip, he picked up the phone and dialed her number. It only rang twice.

  “Hi Barth.” She didn’t sound angry.

  He expelled her name in a puff of relief. “Chieko!”

  There was a long silence.

  “Chieko, I don’t really know what to say, but I had to call. I’m sorry.”

  Her soft laugh sounded in his ear. “I get it. Sometimes it’s easier face-to-face.”

  His stomach pinched. “Is that even an option?” Would he be able to see her again without it breaking his heart?

  “Open the door, Barth.”

  He squinted. “What do you mean?”

  “Open your front door.”

  Still holding the phone to his ear, Barth strode to the apartment door and opened it wide.

  Chieko stood there in jeans and the jacket she’d worn to Christmas Valley. The instant their eyes met, she dropped the phone. “I’m not marrying Charles.”

  “And you came to find me?”

  “Did you hear me? I’m not marrying Charles. It was all a big misunderstanding because of—”

  Barth didn’t need the reason. He swept her from her feet and into a good, long kiss.

  “Is this crazy?” he asked breathlessly, letting her slide down his body to her feet.

  “Totally.” She nuzzled her nose against his.

  “Do you care?”

  Chieko shook her head, her smile widening. “We’re good at figuring out stuff together. We’ll get this sorted.”

  “All right then!”

  She pointed over his shoulder. “Can we go inside? It’s cold out here.”

  He grinned. “I have a feeling it’ll get pretty warm in there.”

  Chieko headbutted him playfully. “Move it.”

  Barth feigned shock. “Miss Chieko!”

  They hurried inside and closed the door. Leaning against it, Barth savored the sensation of melting into Chieko’s lips.

  “I thought we agreed no in-house dates,” grumbled Charlene as she entered the room.

  Barth waved her away. “This isn’t a date, Charlene. This is love.”

  Charlene snorted. “Carry on then. But I leave for work in ten minutes, so you might want to migrate away from the door.”

  “Girl, I know you’re trying to ruin this moment for me, but Chieko and I can kiss in the craziest places and still love every second of it.”

  Chieko’s warm giggle filled him with joy, and he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the couch.

  “Is this better, Charlene?”

  “Thank you.”

  Chieko’s forehead fell to his shoulder. “Oh my gosh, can you two stop talking so we can focus on what’s important here?”

  Charlene burst out laughing and tossed a thumb up. “Yes, Miss Makiguchi. Return to the breaking news of the day. Shall I film it for you?”

  “Nope,” said Chieko. “This is not for public viewing.”

  Tugging at Barth’s ear lobes, she drew him in for a deep, beautiful, heart-filling kiss. He never even noticed when Charlene left for work.

  At last they settled with Chieko curled in his lap, and he marveled at how such a petite woman could fill every pore with such a joyous passion.

  Chieko’s fingers caressed his cheeks, and she giggled.

  Giddy, Barth almost joined her but stopped short. “Aw now, don’t start crying again. What’s wrong?”

  Chieko tossed her head back. “Augh! I am such a mess!” She flopped forward again, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his cheek. “Barth, I love you like crazy, but I’ve got to give you an out. I am such a mess. My parents—”

  “Don’t need to control you—”

  “—have conditioned me for so long to hide all negative emotions that I don’t know how to handle them.” She cupped his face and looked at him intently. “Barth, you have to understand. I blow up. I cry. I yell. I throw things.”

  “I’m a football player. I can catch things.”

  She slapped his shoulder with a grunting laugh. “You’re not listening. Barth, I’m afraid you’ll get sick of my outbursts and—”

  Barth slipped his lips over hers and dove into a deep kiss. He needed to calm her just long enough to find the right words. Well, maybe a little longer. A kiss like this didn’t need to be rushed.

  “Sorry, Chieko. I can’t get over how delicious you are, and—” He held a finger over her lips to keep her from interrupting. “And I know you blow up. You think I’m scared of that?”

  Chieko shrugged.

  Caressing her hair, he sighed. “Beautiful, crazy Miss Chieko, you know what scares me?”

  She shook her head, her forehead dimpling.

  “That you wouldn’t trust me—trust us—enough to let the feelings out as they come instead of bottling them up inside until they blow. I’m not afraid of real feelings. Not when I love someone, and yes. I love you.”

  “But …”

  “We’re all a mess, Chieko. You, me, even Amaya or Frank.”

  “And Charles, but he’s a different kind of mess.” Her grin warmed him.

  “He’s more like toxic waste,” said Barth. “But you don’t need to be afraid of the mess inside your heart. When we love, we open our hearts, and it makes it easier to clean out the junk and fill it up with good stuff.”

  Chieko smiled, her whole countenance softening. “You’re the good stuff, Bartholomew Jefferson.”

  He squeezed her gently. “I try to be. You’ll see soon enough I’ve got my own insecurities and messes, but we can help each other, right?”

  “Right.”

  “We can be a team, right?”

  Her smile widened. “Right.”

  Chieko smiled at herself. Gone were the form-fitting business skirts and high heels, exchanged for jeans and weather-appropriate boots. Finances were a little tight, but her heart was full.

  She sat knee-to-knee with Barth around the dining table in Amaya and Frank’s new condo, though Frank would not move in until after the wedding.

  “Glad things are looking up,” said Amaya, patting Barth’s shoulder.

  Barth glanced over at Chieko. “Yeah, I got some great references and portfolio clips from Parker.”

  “You got more than that, Mister,” teased Chieko.

  “I did?” He pursed his lips adorably, holding back a grin.

  Chieko blinked slowly, knowing those lips would kiss her goodnight later this evening. To needle him, though, she sat up straight and made the announcement she’d been holding until just the right moment. “I have an offer for free housing. Can you believe it?”

  “Wait, what?” Amaya’s eyes widened.

  “That’s great!” cheered Frank, spooning mushroom sauce over his vegetables.

  “Where?” asked Barth.

&nbs
p; “Up on Orcas Island. Parker’s fiancé’s dad owns a duplex he’s willing to let me stay in for free for a year while he does some remodeling on it. If I can stand the dust and noise, I pay only utilities.”

  “What?!” Barth’s voice pitched so high it startled them all into spilling whatever their forks had suspended.

  Chieko put on her best poker face. “Isn’t that great news?”

  “You’re moving all the way up to Washington?” Barth wilted. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because it keeps travel costs down for Guy and Parker if they don’t have to fly me in all the time or reimburse my driving.”

  “But KGW,” said Barth, his eyes darkening.

  “They haven’t promised to take me back on as a roving reporter, so I may just leave them completely.”

  “But … BEJ,” he whimpered.

  “BEJ? What’s that?”

  “I’m going to guess it stands for Bartholomew Edward-or-something Jefferson,” said Frank, who had been watching the two of them like a ping-pong match.

  “Listen to him,” said Barth. “He’s the resident braniac.” To Frank, he added, “The E’s for Ervin, but you were close.”

  Chieko took pity on Barth. Leaning closer so their foreheads almost touched, she smiled. “Parker said if I go up there, they can afford to hire another camera technician.”

  “Another?” Barth’s demeanor brightened. “Any camera technician in particular?”

  “I think they were partial to one they’ve used before.” She tapped his nose.

  “But what about travel expenses for that camera technician?”

  She nestled closer, so their arms entwined. “It’s a duplex. Two homes side-by-side. One-year free before the price goes up to normal rent. It’s Mr. Fox’s way of supporting his son’s business. It’s primo real estate, Barth. Houses on the island all cost in the millions.”

  Frank cleared his throat. “Amaya, perhaps you and I should migrate to the couch while these two work out some… details?”

  “Sure thing,” agreed Amaya, scooping up her plate and heading into the living room area with Frank.