Intimate Betrayal

by Donna Hill

  Chris rang the doorbell and was met by a melancholy Reese.

  “Did something happen?” he asked, his eyes darting from her to the interior of the suite. He crossed the threshold.

  “I think he needs to talk,” she said softly, indicating a reclining Maxwell with a tilt of her head. Unobtrusively she left the room.

  Chris took off his jacket and dropped it on the chair by the door. Thoughtfully he approached Maxwell who seemed oblivious to his presence. But Chris knew better. Maxwell was always totally alert to everything in his space. Chris sat on the love seat, stretching his long denim-clad legs out in front of him. His thigh muscles bunched and rippled beneath the fabric.

  “Let’s talk about it, my kyodai.”

  Hearing the endearing Japanese term for brother, Maxwell was immediately reminded that what he and Chris shared was as strong if not stronger than any blood ties called family.

  Slowly he lowered his lids, rose and his dark gaze met Chris’s light one. He nodded, and like a cup overflowing, he poured out his story.

  “You know at some point you’re going to have to confront her. You have to confront her so that you can regain your inner peace and bring closure to this.”

  “I know. I plan to before we return to the States.”

  Chris reached across the space that separated them and heartily slapped Maxwell’s rock-hard thigh.

  A shadow of a smile flickered around Maxwell’s mouth. He gently rubbed the tip of his finger across the small scar on his eyebrow. “Arigato gozaimashita, kyodai.”

  “No thanks are necessary, kyodai.” Chris smiled then blew out a long breath and stood. “Have you heard from Larry Templeton?”

  “As a matter of fact he called this morning. I told him to forget about coming here. Everything is under control.”

  “Cool. But listen, will Reese be all right today? I have practice this afternoon for about three hours, maybe longer.”

  “No problem.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “I plan to…” The ringing phone cut him off. “Excuse me.” He crossed the room and picked up the phone that rested on a white marble and gold stand.

  “Kon’nichiwa,” he said into the mouthpiece. “Yes, of course. Three o’clock will be fine with me. Arigato gozaimashita.”

  He turned toward Chris, his dark almond-shaped eyes sparkling. “Things are happening faster than I expected.”

  “What things?” Reese asked entering the room and the conversation.

  “That was Tasaka’s secretary. He wants to meet with me today to close the deal.”

  Reese’s amber eyes widened in delight. “Fantastic. That was quick.”

  “Tasaka must be getting old,” Chris chuckled. “He’s been notorious for dragging out negotiations to the limit. Or maybe he saw today’s paper. Have either of you checked it out?”

  They both shook their heads.

  Chris retraced his steps to where he’d put his coat and extracted the paper.

  Maxwell took it and read as he paced. His eyes raced over the article.

  “Well, what does it say?” Reese asked, seeing that it was in Japanese.

  Maxwell let out a sigh. “It seems as though the heat is on.” He explained what was in the article.

  “Whew. But I still don’t see why this would push Tasaka into signing.”

  A slight shift of eyes passed between Maxwell and Chris. But not so slight that Reese didn’t catch it.

  “What?” she demanded. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  Maxwell swallowed. He knew that revealing this information could be potentially hazardous to his company if the information was leaked. Rapidly he tossed around the veracity of telling her. He did trust her. And he knew that she would never betray that trust.

  “Sit down for a minute Reese.” He put his hand on her shoulder and ushered her to a seat in the living room.

  Walking the short distance she kept looking at him over her shoulder, trying to get a clue, to no avail.

  Maxwell pulled up a chair and sat, leaning forward, bracing his arms on his thighs. “I haven’t discussed this with you because it’s very sensitive. If word of it got out before the right time it could be financially crippling for M.K. Enterprises.” He paused a beat. “In ten days, the company is going public. We plan to hit the NYSE and NIKKEI simultaneously. A partnership between myself and Tasaka guarantees him twenty percent of the shares. He knows they will skyrocket because of the potential dollars arising out of the computer fraud. Not a word of this can be written anywhere until after the fact. The Federal Trade Commission doesn’t take too kindly to inside trading.”

  Reese swallowed, digesting the implications. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I won’t breathe a word.”

  “I know,” he said with a smile. He patted her knee and stood. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I want to pull my papers together for this meeting.”

  “I’m cutting out anyway,” Chris announced, slipping into his coat. He gave Reese a light peck on the cheek, saluted Maxwell and headed out.

  Reese angled her head in Maxwell’s direction. “I’ll work out here. I need to put in some major time on this article. So go ahead and do what you have to do.”

  Her low, throaty voice vibrated through him. What he really wanted to do was take her in the bedroom with him. Her casual cream knit top that subtly defined her breasts and the matching Lycra pants that outlined every nook and cranny of her lower body was enough to give him hot flashes. But he knew once they got started, they would never get anything done. So instead, he gave her a wink and set about his work.

  The night lights of downtown Tokyo punctuated the sky with a multitude of vibrant colors. Bone weary, but mentally charged after three hours of talks with Tasaka and his associates, Maxwell was determined to make one last stop before returning to the hotel.

  “Drop me off at Tasaka House, Daisuke, please. Then you can call it a night. I’ll get a cab back to the hotel.”

  Chapter 34

  Maxwell stood with his back to the door staring out onto the deck, watching the early-evening strollers meander along the walkway. What would he say? His stop here had been totally impromptu, and he had not had the opportunity to really think through his actions. He was running on pure emotion: anger, a sense of betrayal and a need to find out from his mother if he was ever loved.

  “Knight-san,” came the soft voice from behind him.

  Maxwell spun around and eyes so much like his own connected and held. His insides tightened with anxiety then did a slow somersault before settling down. He bowed low. “Tasaka-san. Pardon me for just dropping in, but I needed to speak with you.”

  Sukihara’s heart beat an almost unnatural rhythm as she gazed, once again, upon her son. Every fiber of her being warned her to avoid this moment, to make an excuse to Honniko why she could not see him. But a power greater than rationale gripped her: a mother’s undying love.

  A part of her wanted him to leave and never come back so that she could return to the life she’d always known. But that other part of her knew that from this moment on, her life would never be the same again.

  Ethereally she glided into the room, a tentative smile trembling around her rich red mouth. “Why don’t we sit down, Knight-san. I’ll send for some tea.”

  “I prefer to stand,” he said in flawless Japanese. “And tea is not necessary. Thank you.”

  Sukihara hid her shock and pride behind a noncommittal mask. “As you wish.” She, however, took a seat on the low bronze brocade couch. “How may I help you?”

  “Perhaps with the truth,” he began, his voice low and even, his gaze steady. “I’d like to know about you and my father. I’d like to know why I was told all of these years that you were dead. I’d like to know why you didn’t want me.”

  “I think you are mistaken Knight-san. Why would I know these things you speak of?”

  “All I want is the truth. Do you have any idea what life has been like for me, never knowing on what si
de of the fence I should stand, never fitting in the black world or the Japanese, always feeling that there was part of me that was missing? I think I deserve to know.”

  Suki rose and turned away, her conscience doing battle within her. To admit to the truth would ruin her; and would it really help him to know that she’d chosen a way of life over her own flesh and blood?

  Slowly she turned back around and faced him and when she did she faced herself. She began in a low, halting voice as she took him back with her to where it all began. Nearly an hour later Suki concluded her story.

  “This is all I have…my son. I know you may never forgive me for the choice that I made, but at eighteen I believed there was no other way. Your father was already married. What was I to do?” She reached out to touch him, but halted, unsure of his reaction. “All I ever wanted for you was the best of everything. That would have never happened here. You have grown and prospered well.”

  He thought he would somehow feel better to finally hear her admit that she was his mother, that she’d given him up to pursue her life. But he didn’t. All he felt was a different degree of loneliness.

  “I know you may not think much of me, or the choices that I made. But…I…did it because…I loved you, Mioki.”

  Maxwell’s head snapped in her direction.

  “Yes, that was the name I’d given you when you were born.”

  Maxwell felt as if a dam had burst. Slowly the missing pieces of his life slipped into place like a Rubik’s cube.

  “Mother,” he uttered in a ragged whisper.

  “Son.” She stretched her arms out to him and he walked into her embrace.

  Inch by inch he felt the void begin to fill and he let himself become engulfed in its comforting warmth.

  Sukihara was the first to break the tenuous contact. A soft smile lighted her lips. “I’m glad you came, Mioki. A great burden has been lifted from my spirit.” She bent her head and slipped her hand inside her pocket, extracting a small, worn black-and-white photo. Almost reverently she handed it to him.

  Maxwell stared down at the photo of his mother looking adoringly up at his father.

  “I want you to have it so that you will always know that you were born out of a great love.” She took a deep breath. “I need you to know this, because I must ask you a great favor.”

  Maxwell tore his gaze away from the photo and looked down into his mother’s dark eyes. “Ask me.”

  “I must ask that you not…reveal our relationship.”

  Maxwell felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach, all of the wind gushed out of him at once, but he did not speak. He couldn’t.

  “Murayama would never…”

  “Please, don’t say any more.” Maxwell turned way and picked up his overcoat from the chair. His jaw flexed as he turned dark, dangerous eyes on her. “I suppose the lies will never end, will they…Mother?” With that he brushed past her and strode out the door, still clutching the photo in his fist.

  “Oh, Max, I’m so sorry,” Reese uttered, his pain reflected in her voice.

  He turned away from her touch as if burned. “It doesn’t matter,” he responded in a deadly calm. “I found out what I wanted to know.” He flashed her an unreadable look. “Thank you for all of your help. We’re leaving on the next flight out. My business here is finished.”

  “Max. Don’t do this.”

  “Don’t do what?” he boomed, his voice jettisoning out of the monotone he’d maintained for the past hour.

  “Blame me, because that’s what you’re doing.”

  “Your instincts are all wrong, Ms. Delaware.” He spun away and strode off into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

  Reese shut her eyes and tilted her head toward the ceiling. “We’ll get past this,” she whispered. “We will.”

  Releasing a weary breath, she opened her eyes, letting them sweep the room. Automatically she picked up Maxwell’s overcoat to hang it up when she saw the tip of a photograph peeking out from his inside breast pocket. Sure that it must be the same photo he’d told her about, she pulled it out and stared at the unmistakable face of the man she’d seen the night before her parents were killed.

  That night, in horrific clarity, the final pieces fell unrelentingly into place.

  Chapter 35

  Chicago/New York/Virginia

  It took two days before they were able to get a return flight to New York. During those two days, Maxwell had completely shut Reese out. He refused to talk, saying that everything was fine. He wouldn’t touch her even in the most platonic of manners. And inside, Reese felt like parts of her were slowly dying, like a plant without water. He had isolated her, and he couldn’t have done more to hurt her if he’d cut out her heart.

  He had withdrawn so far within himself that he was totally oblivious to what Reese was going through. From the moment she’d seen the picture her mind had been assailed with ragged images slowly taking shape. It got so bad that even when she was awake the images intruded like a heavy cloak dropped in front of her line of vision.

  She was afraid to sleep, afraid to be awake. And she realized that she was painfully alone. Neither of them seemed to be able to help the other. It was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. As much as they’d said they would not let whatever they found out come between them, no matter how devastating, they had. And that pain was more than she could endure.

  Unknown to Max, Reese had made arrangements to take a connecting flight directly to Chicago from Kennedy Airport. She saw no point in dragging out the inevitable.

  “I have a driver waiting. As soon as the bags come down we can go. I had my town house opened. You can stay there until you’re ready to…go back to Chicago.”

  Reese raised her chin and stared directly into those eyes that had the power to make her weak with wanting. “I am ready to go, Max,” she said in a steady voice that surprised her. “I’m catching my flight to Chicago in a half hour.” She pulled her cream-colored cashmere coat tighter around her body from the sudden chill that tore through her.

  How could he tell her how much he wanted her to stay, knowing that this time for them to pick up their lives would eventually come? He’d been a fool to think she’d give up her life and her home to make one with him. There were so many things he’d been struggling with over the past few days. He knew he’d been distant and difficult. He’d spurned her attempts of any type of comfort or affection, simply because he needed to prepare himself for this moment. He needed to reach inside of himself to find some sort of balance and while doing that, he couldn’t take her on that trip as much as he wanted to. But he could have never imagined it would hurt this deeply. Yet he understood.

  It seemed as if the lights went out in his eyes and for the barest moment she faltered, her resolve to leave him weakening, until he spoke.

  “That’s probably the best thing,” he answered matter-of-factly. “We both have a lot to do. It was presumptuous of me to make plans for you.”

  Reese pushed down the knot of pain that rose from the pit of her soul. “You’re right.” She gave him a tight smile and pulled her defenses around her like a wool blanket.

  His bags came around on the carousel and he pulled them off. He turned toward her still form. She looked so vulnerable, so in need. But he must be mistaken. “Call me when you get in. Will you?”

  “Yes,” she said in a thready whisper.

  He leaned down and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips, making her heart flutter with desire. Reluctantly he pulled away and silently prayed that she would change her mind.

  “I guess I’d better get going or I’ll miss my flight.” She blinked, fighting back her tears. “Goodbye, Max,” she uttered in a breathless whisper. She didn’t wait for him to respond. To hear him say goodbye would destroy the last shred of her composure. Swiftly she turned and hurried across the terminal.

  “Goodbye,” he whispered as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

  For the first two days back in her hometown, R
eese merely existed—she didn’t live. She moved through life and her day on autopilot, remembering to eat, sleep and bathe when necessary.

  Painstakingly, she finished the article on Max. It was the most difficult piece she’d ever written. Bringing him to life on paper seemed to bring him closer, and still he was a lifetime away. Through tear-filled eyes she wrote her closing commentary:

  For too many years, Maxwell Knight and all he represents has been cloaked in mystery. He was the man the world wanted to know about. Who was this “boy wonder” who wowed the electronic world with his genius and his vision? The answer is simple. Maxwell Knight is not some exotic blend of fact and imagination. He cannot leap tall buildings in a single bound. He does not horde a harem of beautiful women in his state-of-the-art homes. He does not wish that he was just Japanese or just African-American. He is your boy next door, who grew into a man with dreams. He is a man who took his dreams and made them a reality, never letting adversity take his dreams away. Maxwell Knight is a man.

  With a heavy heart, she sent out the package by Federal Express, knowing that Phillip was holding space in this week’s issue, and tried to put the past months behind her.

  She’d been to see Lynnette on her first day home and they laughed, cried, and laughed some more. Yet, for the first time in all of the years they’d been friends, Reese was unable to share the depth of her pain. All she did share was that her memory had returned and the impact of it had buffeted her between moments of extreme anxiety, to levels of exhilaration, and then plunge her into a bottomless pit of despair.

  “Yes,” she’d called her doctor, she explained to Lynnette. She was informed that it was to be expected and she needed to be seen and medication prescribed. “No,” she was not going back under the microscope and “no,” she would not live under the haze of Prozac or whatever it was they were prescribing these days.