Tempting the Billionaire

by Ginny Sterling

  Perfect. Freaking. English.

  “You’ve reached Aaron Ichiyo. Please leave your name and number after the beep.” Ichiyo, she thought wildly and fought the nervous pattering of her heart. Looking at Hermes, she saw her reflection in the airplane’s window. She looked like a terrified girl, not the mature woman she was. Aaron Ichiyo was Achoo alright. The way he pronounced his name, Ichiyo, sounded just like Achoo; his voice had been clipped and short, not drawn out as she’d butchered it so many times.

  “Uh… I’m not sure if this is who I think it might be, but if it is – I am so sorry for your loss, Achoo. Call me if you need to talk… its JemC – or Jemma Hastings. I am the C.E.O. of Temptations Marketing and will be landing in Kyoto in a few hours.”

  Jemma grew silent for a moment and ended the call. Her friend’s world had just turned upside down and now, she was unknowingly on her way to add more problems into the mix. She didn’t want to be a problem- she wanted only to comfort her friend.

  Keep it that way, Jemma – stay friends and don’t look for more, okay? Think of all the bad dates you’ve been on; don’t fantasize about something that isn’t there, you ninny! You’ll ruin things between you and the only friend you truly have, she thought wildly and tried to shut her eyes as the whiskey seeped into her bones. She had enough time to take a nap, and hopefully the jet lag wouldn’t be too bad.

  Chapter 10

  The jet lag was utterly horrific.

  As soon as Jemma landed it was early morning there in Kyoto – and she was dragging with exhaustion. In her excitement to travel, she’d gotten up early for the flight, planning to sleep the entire flight. When she’d heard the announcement of Ichiyo’s father’s death and her suspicions of who Aaron might truly be… she was wide awake like she’d downed caffeine pills with a latte from Starbucks. She was unable to sleep on the plane as she had wanted to. Her mind was racing and she’d been waiting for her phone to ring or a text message to buzz indicating that he’d gotten her voicemail.

  There had been only silence the last few hours without a word from him. Did he know it was her now? Was he as panicked as she felt? Did this mean he didn’t want to hear from anyone while he was grieving – because she could cry some miserable horrible tears that made her look like she had a bad case of allergies. Maybe he was the same way and didn’t want to be seen grieving like this.

  The plane landed smoothly. Jemma was whisked from the airport by limousine directly to the hotel – who checked her in immediately regardless of the time. She followed the attendant up to her room, her eyes burning with exhaustion. He carried in her suitcases and she stared at the room ahead of her. It was beautiful and serene… the perfect location for some shut-eye!

  Thanking the attendant, she pressed several Yen into his hand and shut the door firmly behind him. She set Hermes on the glass top of the nightstand in her room. She looked out on the city, her brain a mindless fog.

  She was beyond tired.

  Yanking the heavy drapes shut, Jemma yawned loudly, and set an alarm on her phone for six hours. That would make it near noon here – which meant she would have the rest of the day to work, explore, or basically wear herself out so she could sleep tonight and get on a decent schedule.

  Aaron was beyond numb and exhausted emotionally. His mother was absolutely destroyed at the loss of his father. Hearing her cries broke his heart and he knew there was only more to come. His father would want to be buried in the traditional way – a mixture of Shinto and Buddhist traditions, even though his mother was Christian. He practiced both religions, trying to blend in with both of his parents. The burial ritual was truly respected by the elders, but shocking to the younger generations- himself included. When he first met with the funeral director, he’d been stunned at the cultural atmosphere his father had sheltered him and his mother from. It hurt to think of saying goodbye. He would follow his father’s wishes to the letter and allow himself to grieve once it was all over.

  His father’s body was here in the house for visitation as per the custom. His prone form lay there on the bed as he was to spend one last night in his home. The hotel had the sliding doors opened to allow a breeze from the ocean. They had spent most of their time here, in this very room, while he’d been growing up.

  Aaron could barely look at the sheet that covered his father’s body for fear of breaking down or becoming ill. He had to keep it together and be strong for his mother, for his family name. The priest was there sitting with him, while Aaron greeted everyone who came to say their goodbyes and offer blessings.

  There would be a procession tomorrow to the grave site where his father would rest beside the tomb. Other Ichiyo family had been interred over the years there and eventually- he himself would join his ancestors. He couldn’t let himself think like that right now! The funeral would be late tomorrow and his father’s body cremated once everyone had left the gravesite. Then he could break down in private and figure out how to move on.

  Jemma jumped aloud at the sound of dogs barking. That was the alert of her alarm clock on her phone going off. Hitting snooze, she saw there were no missed calls or text messages. She felt completely awful – and then remembered what Achoo must be going through. Guilt washed through her as she wanted to reach out to her friend. She remembered their conversations in the past. He’d been so frustrated that his father had been so set in his ways – he’d rebelled, feeling that tradition was being stuffed down his throat. In the last few years he’d admitted that they’d gotten past it all and they were finally getting along.

  Now his father was gone – and Achoo was having to deal with the loss. Alone. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was feeling right now, and prayed that she wouldn’t be adding to the emotional burden on his shoulders.

  Aaron.

  “I really need to start calling him Aaron,” she muttered aloud.

  “That is his name, Jemma.”

  “Good morning to you too, Hermes – is there any update on the funeral for Mr. Ichiyo?” she asked, pushing her hair out of her face and wiping her mouth from where she’d slept hard. Oh yes, she was a true trophy. She could only imagine how smeared her eyeliner and mascara probably were right now as she saw the blackish smear on the pillow case where her face had been plastered. She didn’t wear much along the lines of makeup, but she did do up her eyes to play off her favorite feature. She figured that if nothing else made her stand out, her clear blue eyes were pretty with her dark hair.

  “Technically it is currently afternoon – and yes. The wake is being held today and the funeral is tomorrow.”

  “Can you tell me about a traditional funeral here in Japan? I know his father would have wanted one performed for him and I’m curious what to expect. There is nothing worse than not doing research on something and making a nuisance of yourself. I don’t even know what religion Ach- uh- Aaron is. Do you?”

  Hermes went into great detail about what to expect and some of it was quite surprising. She was glad she asked before showing up! Looking through her suitcase, she saw that she really didn’t have anything too appropriate for a funeral other than a black pants-suit and a checked blouse.

  She’d packed several dresses and the black suit. That would have to do – perhaps she could get a black scarf somewhere nearby to cover any open neckline that her blouses tended to have. She liked them to button just over her breastbone and felt it would not be appropriate in the slightest. It was time for modesty and respect. She didn’t want to attract attention to herself at all.

  “Will you be waiting for Mr. Ichiyo to return your call before heading to the wake and funeral?”

  “I think I should – don’t you?” Jemma asked, suddenly filled with doubt. Would the people around him be upset that an outsider was there? Achoo had said he came from a small town steeped in tradition. Most small towns back home kept a wary eye on people that suddenly showed up at a funeral. She didn’t want to be perceived as unwelcome on the first day she’d arrived.

  “Perhaps, but wha
t do I know? I’m just an Olympic god trapped in a tiny box.”

  “I hate to break it to you Hermes…” her voice trailed off as she smiled sadly. She wouldn’t finish the sentence; there had been enough shocks over the last few hours. She felt deep in her soul that, if the roles were reversed, she would want support, regardless of where it came from. Instead, she showered and dressed as demurely as possible.

  “Hermes, can I get a car to Amanohashidate?”

  “Are you going to the wake?”

  “I feel it would be best to pay my respects as a stranger. If he is mourning, I don’t want to interrupt. If he had called – then yes, I would announce my intentions.”

  “I see. Yes, I will get a car pulled around for you in twenty minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’ll need to stay here.”

  “No need to announce the obvious. I don’t have legs.”

  “Or tact – my little friend.”

  “That hurts.”

  “I was just teasing.”

  Jemma headed down to the lobby of the hotel and slipped easily into the limo that waited for her. Apparently A.I. had set out to make an impression in everything they did. The limo was immaculate and made her feel pampered even though her stomach was in knots. She kept checking her phone to see if she’d received a message.

  “Driver, can we stop on the way to get flowers?” Jemma suddenly asked, feeling very insecure and unsure of what she was doing. At a small roadside stand, she saw a variety of blooms cloistered in paper bouquets. Breathing in the rich, sweet scents, she hoped it was appropriate. In Indiana, people sent an ivy, a peace plant, or a graveside wreath. She didn’t know what was customary here in Kyoto, but felt she needed to bring something, anything, with her. Picking one bouquet, she smiled, paid, and nodded politely before returning to the car.

  As they pulled up in front of a building, her stomach lurched nervously. It was obvious Aaron’s father had been well loved and respected. There was a line outside of the building where people waited to say goodbye. This was a sign of the man that has raised her friend – and it said a lot for who they were as a family. Getting in line, she thanked the driver and explained that she might be here for a while. He quickly parked the car down the road and walked back up, shocking Jemma, as he got in line with her.

  “Mr. Ichiyo is my boss. I want to pay my respects to him and his family as well.”

  Jemma smiled and felt her eyes water. They must be really good people to command such attention and admiration. As they got closer to the door, the driver leaned forward and tapped her on the shoulder.

  “When you step inside, it’s customary to take off your shoes. Don’t be alarmed,” he explained in a whisper. Jemma thanked him for his kindness. She’d read all about it, but it was polite of him to share the information with her again, just in case.

  Taking out her phone, she took a couple of photos of the massive cherry tree branches that dangled near the road. Everywhere were clouds of pink and white petals that seemed to dance on the breeze. It was truly lovely. She could hear the ocean nearby and smelled the salt on the air.

  Stepping inside the dim building, Jemma immediately kicked off her shoes and scooted them to the side where a plethora of discarded shoes remained. Stepping upwards into the house, the first thing she noticed were the floors and low ceiling. The house was alit with sunshine from the open doorways that revealed a small brook that ran along the house on the far side. It was breathtaking in its serenity.

  She could see a building off in the distance, complete with a wooden deck. The structure stretched over a pond that had steam rising from the water. A small concrete pagoda was set on a stone table in the middle of the brook with a candle illuminated inside.

  Perfection.

  A single file line ran around the room, circling around a large, low table nearby that was covered in candles, flowers, and a single photo of a man. The photo looked to be quite old, as it was in black and white. The man in the photo was dressed in formal robes and looked to be in his forties. At the back of the room, an older woman stood beside a much taller, handsome man. His form seemed to hover nearby in a protective stance. Jemma nearly swallowed her tongue. This had to be Aaron with his mother!

  Her heart was hammering in her chest with intensity as she saw Aaron glance up momentarily. His eyes met her eyes briefly and he looked back down at the guest in front of him. He was detached and looked coldly arrogant. His stoic expression reminded her of a statue. Beautiful but untouchable, she thought – and then remembered where they were and why.

  A rush of shame filled her as she pushed down her first impressions of him right away. His father was being buried tomorrow. She was supposed to be here for support of a business colleague… it was unknown if he was her online friend as she suspected. She’d never heard back from the voicemail that she’d left him. In her mind, she thought it was him, but until confirmed- everything was up in the air.

  Stepping forward, Jemma nodded politely and smiled warmly at the woman who was Margaret Ichiyo. Her wide green eyes seemed to swallow her wide, pale, face. There were rings underneath her eyes revealing that she hadn’t slept much. Who could blame her? Her hair was pulled tightly back from her face in a bun, making her features look even more stark and ragged. Her heart hurt for the older woman who obviously adored her husband.

  “Hello,” Margaret said politely in English, looking at Jemma with curious eyes. “Were you a friend of my husband’s?”

  “No. My apologies, ma’am,” Jemma said politely, clasping her extended hand in her own. Swallowing hard, she looked over at Aaron and prayed her voice didn’t crack showing her anxiousness and lack of confidence at being here.

  “Mr. Ichiyo, my name is Jemma Hastings of Temptations Marketing. I heard the news on the flight and wanted to pay my respects to you and your mother. I am so very sorry for your loss.” Good girl! That was smooth! she thought proudly and almost reached up to pat herself on the back.

  “Thank you,” Aaron said simply in a very deep voice, looking down at her. “I appreciate your concern and assure you that when I get back to the office, we’ll be back on our scheduled timeline.”

  “There’s no rush. Family comes first and there is plenty of time for work later,” Jemma said simply and moved to step back as his mother shook her hand. Taking a step to the side to allow the next guest to pay their condolences, Jemma realized she still didn’t know if that was actually Achoo or not. Curiosity burned in her and she made a leap of faith.

  Jemma pretended to sneeze – saying softly ‘Achoo’. It was obviously fake, as she delicately held a tissue under her nose. She glanced over her shoulder to see if he’d heard her. Dark soulful eyes shot up from the floor in surprise as he looked directly at her.

  It was him!

  Jemma smiled softly and moved back to the room to lay her flowers down on the sheet that hid his father’s body. Saying a quick prayer, she exited the room and was met by the driver who had been directly behind her. She walked down the street to the limo, thanking the driver for accompanying her today. She was relieved to have company with her during this time and even more grateful that he seemed to be willing to help regarding proper etiquette.

  “Will you be the driver my entire time here?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Have you been to many funerals?”

  “Unfortunately, a few. Why do you ask?”

  “I need to get another black outfit so I can attend tomorrow. I didn’t pack heavily and only have the one suit, which I am wearing right now.”

  “Miss, if you don’t mind me saying – I think you need something else to wear here in town.”

  “Then how about you take me shopping and show me what I should be wearing while I’m here. I will treat for dinner in exchange for your knowledge and advice.”

  “Certainly, Miss Hastings.”

  “Please call me Jemma.”

  Chapter 11

  “Mother, I need to step out for
a moment,” Aaron whispered quietly as he stared at the American woman with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. She was more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen before and felt like an absolute fool admiring her at his father’s wake.

  Jemma Hastings from Temptations Marketing was temptation in itself. Her long brown hair looked like a waterfall and her cerulean eyes reminded him of the sea on a stormy day. She’d sneezed lightly, but instead of it sounding like an involuntary response to an allergy – it sounded like she’d whispered his online nickname.

  That soft smile that quickly followed was his ultimate undoing.

  She’d glanced over her shoulder deliberately and met his eyes. She had said his name! Who was she and how did she know unless… Jemma was JemC1995? Could it be? Why would her user name have a C in it instead of a H or any other letter? Could Hastings be a married name? She’d never said anything about a husband or spouse – but maybe that is why she said never to call her.

  Aaron stood there for several more minutes, unsure of what to say or do. Picking up a woman at his father’s wake was in extremely poor taste – but reuniting with an old friend or turning to a friend for support, would be appropriate.

  At his mother’s nod, he stepped back into the other rooms and saw she wasn’t there. Heading out the side door that was being used as an exit, he saw a limousine marked with A I 3 on the license plate drive by. That was one of his company cars… which meant that she would be easy to track down later when the funeral was all over with. Walking back inside, he rejoined his mother’s side and continued to greet neighbors and friends of the family.