When the Sun Goes Down...

by Crystal Green

  Tristan was gauging him, no doubt coming to the conclusion that Chad was one sorry idiot. But there was a flash of understanding, too.

  Would his rogue cousin help him, out of the goodness of the heart Chad knew Tristan had somewhere beneath all the layers?

  He thought he heard Tristan curse under his breath, not loudly enough to offend the servers or the few other customers. But definitely enough to reveal some reluctance.

  “Come on then,” his cousin said, extending a hand to help Chad to his feet. “There are those guidebooks in your room. Maybe we can look through them to find someplace romantic for this windmill-tilting of yours.”

  Chad put down his beer, ignoring Tristan’s hand in favor of coming to a stand on his own.

  “Thanks, pard,” he said, patting his cousin on the shoulder. “You were always the only one who seemed to like Sasha.”

  They went up to his room, where Chad began to concoct a plan for winning over his true love once again.

  AS SASHA STYLED HER HAIR into a curl-rich upsweep, Juliana sat on her bed and chatted on her cell phone with her great-aunt Katrina.

  “The painting was what?” the elderly woman said.

  “Auntie, please calm down. Don’t make yourself sick.” If that was indeed what was happening.

  Aunt Katrina was known for using her advancing age to influence others, meaning that she was somewhat manipulative when she needed to be.

  It didn’t make Juliana love her less. But it did often put her on guard.

  She could just about see her aunt in her favorite multicolored, polka-dotted housecoat, taking coffee on the porch as the birds chirped good morning to Parisville.

  But she could also imagine an oncoming anxiety attack until her aunt said, “I’m as good as a girl twenty years younger, dear. But an explanation about the painting would be lovely.”

  Thank goodness. “There was some confusion about its location, but Jiro Mori just called to tell me Dream Rising is on its way. I’ll be negotiating for it soon.”

  “I only hope you get to it before that Cole boy does. I still can’t believe they’re there, too. How did that happen?”

  “I don’t know, but they’ve been searching for it just as much as you have.”

  Sasha, who was wearing a hotel-supplied cotton yukata and slippers, strolled by Juliana, making a “chatty-chat-chat” motion with her thumb and fingers.

  Juliana held back a laugh and reached for her cup of green tea on the nightstand, sipping as Aunt Katrina waxed on in a sweet yet firm voice about how those Coles would do anything to shame the Thomsens again.

  All the while, Juliana’s body tingled in remembrance of her afternoon with one of “those Coles.” She’d had two more orgasms in that love hotel, making it a long, hot, wonderful time.

  So why couldn’t they have just another few hours? One more night…?

  “Auntie?” Juliana finally said, cutting into her relative’s one-sided discussion. “Remember, it’s expensive to talk on this phone.”

  “Of course. I get carried away.”

  Her aunt blew her a kiss over the line, and Juliana wondered how this affectionate woman who had tucked her into bed at night and held her when she’d cried about her parents had it in her to despise another family so much.

  “Good luck to you, sweetie,” she said.

  “Thanks. Try to cope without me.”

  “Without our Girl Friday?” Aunt Katrina laughed—a full-throated show of mirth that had always made Juliana join in. “I’m trying, but being back at that bookstore just reminds me of how much cheesecake I liked to sneak during slow times and how much work piles up when I chat with the customers.”

  “Well, try harder.” She smiled. “Bye, Auntie.”

  “Bye, dear.”

  Juliana hung up, put the phone in her purse, then stood, pressing her hands against her own yukata. Back at the love hotel, she’d dried her hair and shirt before returning, but her skirt had still been wet. She’d hidden it from Sasha, who’d been busy writing up her detailed notes about Atami when Juliana had arrived.

  Since her roomie had been so involved with her work, Juliana had involved herself with her own business and phone calls, keeping her lips sealed about her afternoon, even though she was chomping at the bit to talk.

  After all, telling her friend was like telling herself, right? Sasha would keep it under wraps, so it wouldn’t be like letting the cat out of the bag.

  Now, Sasha sighed as she dug through the drawers to which she’d transferred her clothes from the suitcase.

  “Having a wardrobe crisis?” Juliana asked.

  “There’s no iron in the room, so I’m looking for my black jersey dress, which doesn’t wrinkle too badly.” She stood, looked around. “Did I even pack it?”

  “I didn’t see it in the closet.”

  Sasha knocked the drawer closed with her hip. Juliana could tell she was frustrated about more than a dress.

  She was ready to talk about Chad. Finally.

  So Juliana waited and, sure enough, Sasha crossed her arms over her chest and sighed again—but this one had a tremble to it.

  “I left him in the dust at the castle, Jules,” she said. “All afternoon, I’ve been working like a demon to forget. But I can’t. My pride got the better of me. So did…I guess fear of failing twice, also.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing bad. It was all…good. I was tempted to give in to him again, because I think it’s still there for him, too, the affection. The hope.” A slight smile lifted the corners of Sasha’s mouth, as if she were remembering, but then it dissipated. “I told him I couldn’t try again. I don’t have the strength, and…” Sasha shook her head. “I just don’t have the strength to go through it if it doesn’t work out.”

  “Yes, you do.” Juliana came over to rest a hand on her friend’s arm. “You’re stronger than anyone I know.”

  Even Juliana herself.

  But she was working on changing that.

  “Thanks for saying so.” As if that covered everything, Sasha went about opening another drawer, searching through it. Then she paused, glancing back at Juliana. “Really, Jules. Thank you for believing that.”

  She’s drained to almost empty, Juliana thought, recalling the spark she’d seen in Sasha’s eyes earlier, at the harbor.

  That spark was gone again.

  She wanted her friend to have the time of her life here, not the worst of it. Still, she knew when done was done, and if Sasha wanted to explore her feelings, she’d do so tonight over dinner or drinks.

  So that was it, as far as Chad went.

  But Juliana knew what would cheer up Sasha now, what would make her forget about Chad a little more so that it wouldn’t be so hard to delve into a deeper conversation about him later.

  “So, guess what?” Juliana asked, her voice light.

  Sasha stopped searching the drawers, interest drawn on her face. “Why do I have a bad feeling about that question?”

  Juliana put on an innocent expression. “About something I did?”

  “Yes, you scamp.” Sasha sat on her bed, giving Juliana a tell-me glance. “Go on.”

  Her heart started to pound. “This afternoon, I wasn’t shopping. I was…well, scoping out some possible research for your book. You know how you were interested in the love hotels?”

  Juliana let that sink in.

  It took a few moments. Then Sasha grinned. “No, you didn’t.”

  Good—it looked like she’d put Chad behind her…for now.

  “Oh, I did,” Juliana said. “Several times, in fact.”

  “With Tristan Cole?”

  “No, with ‘The Locomotion’ guy from the ramen house. Yes, with Tristan.”

  Admitting it brought a fever to her, a bout of phantom caresses that she kept reliving over and over again.

  Sasha’s mouth gaped.

  Juliana shrugged. “I’ll give you my notes for that research now if you want.”

  Her
friend brushed aside the joke. “Tristan. Cole.”

  Even his name—the forbidden syllables of it—got her motor started. “Tristan—” her belly purred “—Cole.”

  Sasha tucked her knees under her on the mattress, leaning forward. “So…?”

  Seeing her friend’s shining eyes, Juliana thought her work for tonight was done.

  But the small hammer of desire that kept tap, tap, tapping into her proved that she wasn’t nearly done with the man who’d sent her to heaven and back today.

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  6

  THE NEXT MORNING, Sasha woke up before Juliana, and she tried her best to keep quiet as she went about preparing for the coming day.

  It had been an enjoyable night in the Roppongi District, where they’d talked more about Tristan over dinner at a jazzy French restaurant, which Sasha had been overjoyed to find in the middle of Japan. Then jet lag had caught up, and they’d forsaken any research in the sexy bars and clubs Sasha had meant to visit in favor of turning in early at the hotel, thinking they’d make up for it today and tonight.

  Or maybe she was avoiding it, which she could hardly afford to do. Not for the first time, she wondered if she’d bitten off more than she could chew with this topic, and if it could be that she was afraid to face it.

  At any rate, Sasha thought, while securing her hair in its ponytail, she had the luxury of staying in Japan longer than Juliana, so there was no rush. Maybe she would even hire a private guide after her friend went home and Sasha had felt her way around the city a bit more.

  By the time Juliana rolled out of bed, Sasha had already prepared the tea provided by the hotel and was surfing the Internet for some of those love hotels her friend had talked about. She meant to explore those in the book, but now she was extra curious.

  Yet while she searched, a keen wistfulness invaded her.

  Love hotels weren’t for single people….

  She brushed the thought aside, wondering instead if she could check into love-hotel rooms by herself, or if she should bring Juliana. But if she did that, would they have to go somewhere that accepted same-sex couples, since that’s how it would look with her friend along?

  Needing a stretch, she stood, then opened the curtains to a rain-splattered view of Shinjuku Gyoen Park. Late last night, the weather had turned, bringing gray skies with it.

  Gray skies. Lonely.

  Face it, Sasha thought. Chad’s in town and you wish you were with him right now.

  That’s the reason she wasn’t talking about it to Juliana: because she just might break down if she told her friend how badly she’d wanted to encourage Chad back at Atami Castle. How hard it’d been to stick to her guns and leave him behind while she moved forward.

  So why did it feel as though she was marking time in the same place?

  Juliana finished getting ready, choosing to wear pants with a sleeveless, collared linen top. Sasha’s clothing was similar, right down to the light raincoat she’d been warned to pack. They were headed for Harajuku, where they wanted to spend Juliana’s unexpected day off checking out the trendy shops and the hip youth who’d brought media attention to the area by loitering around in splashy over-the-top costumes.

  Sasha and Juliana ended up doing just that, not arriving back at their hotel until nearly dusk, their arms loaded mainly with items from a vintage store that sold old kimono and 1950s wear.

  It’d been too hard to resist shopping, and between that and lunch, Sasha had run out of research time.

  Or, maybe it was that avoidance thing again, because thinking of all the hot romance she was supposed to be uncovering only whipped up Chad’s blue gaze, Chad’s familiar scent…

  Chad, Chad, Chad.

  Juliana dropped her last package on her bed. “Tell me when I’m going to wear a used kimono?”

  “It’s a perfect souvenir.”

  “A pretty expensive one, too, even though it’s a simple creation. But it kept calling to me. ‘Buy me. Have me. I’m beautiful.’”

  Laughing, Sasha started for her computer, then noticed the message light on the phone flashing.

  Juliana saw it at the same time, then sent a grin to Sasha before picking up the handset and accessing the message.

  Tristan. Juliana was obviously hoping it was him.

  And, at first, Sasha thought it was, because her friend’s smile only got dreamier. But then after Juliana hung up and dialed another number, saying a sultry “Hi” to the person on the other end, she gradually angled away from Sasha, as if wanting to hide her expression as she “mmmhmm” ed, “oh-I’m-not-sure” ed then finally said, “Okay, we’ll give it a try in a half hour.”

  When she ultimately set down the phone, she was hard to read.

  “What’s up?” Sasha asked.

  Juliana’s blond brows were slightly furrowed, but then they straightened.

  “What do you say we put on our dinner clothes and then grab a drink in the lobby?” she asked. “Just a quick one.”

  “Is Tristan meeting you there?”

  “I suppose you could say that.” She made for the clothing drawers.

  “Juliana.”

  She turned around, a guilty cast to her expression that Sasha assumed was due to the whole Tristan affair.

  “Just get dressed in snappy time, all right?” Juliana said, going about her business again. “Then we’ll have our drink and get on with our plans.”

  “But—”

  “Nope.” Juliana held up a finger. “Trust me, Sash. I may seem cryptic right now, but it’s going to be a great night.”

  Rather intrigued, Sasha went along with her, slipping into a modest yet stylish maroon sheath with capped sleeves, then pinning up her hair. Juliana chose a light-blue, summery dress.

  They went downstairs to the lobby, and Juliana headed for a grouping of chairs underneath some chandeliers where one person was already sitting, his back to them.

  Just one man with wavy, sandy hair…

  Heart crashing to her stomach, Sasha turned away from Chad to face Juliana. “What’s going on?”

  Now her friend looked really guilty. “If you want to head straight out the door with me, then do it, and no one is going to fault you for it. But I have the feeling that you’d truly rather stay here. And you might not want to thank me now for this kick in the bustle, but I know you. You regret what didn’t happen at the castle yesterday.” Juliana paused. “But here’s another chance.”

  Sasha didn’t know how to respond. You’re right, Juliana, I haven’t been able to stop wishing I’d reacted differently. Or maybe a better option would be: You and Tristan should just keep to your love hotels and let me do my own thing.

  There was that pride that had taken her over yesterday, almost ruining everything.

  Juliana cocked her head, her gaze sad. “I only want you to be happy.”

  Now Sasha’s heart slipped down to the floor.

  This time, answering was easy, even if her throat was tight. “I know you want that.”

  She glanced back at the man in the chair, and it seemed as if everything were zeroing in on Chad: the light spearing toward him, the wood in the room closing in around him to make him the one, the only focal point.

  Juliana was still talking in a rush of apologetic words. “That message on the phone? It was Tristan. He asked me to call him at his hotel, and at first I thought…hoped…he was asking me because he wanted to see me again. And he did want that, Sasha, but he also told me that Chad wanted to see you, even if it was just for a drink, and would it be okay for him to come over here? I told him yes, and I didn’t tell you anything at first because I wanted to get your donkey-stubborn self in the same room with Chad before you made up your mind.”

  Sasha couldn’t stop gazing at him—the man she’d missed with every passing minute, the man who’d broken her heart.

  “Sasha?”

  She tore her attention away from her ex, feeling as if part of her were being ripped, too.

  Juli
ana put a hand on Sasha’s arm. “Maybe we should just go to those clubs tonight. We’ll paint the town red. Just tell me and it’s as good as done.”

  Juliana’s heartfelt plea finally registered with Sasha, and she grabbed her friend’s hand, squeezing it.

  She did want this, so badly it was chipping away at her.

  But…scared. She was so damned scared that she’d experience more shattering truths—that they would come to a dead end again and it would hurt more than ever.

  “It’s just a drink,” Juliana said. “That’s all.”

  Only a drink.

  Sasha glanced at Chad again, but her heart had already decided.

  “What I have to talk to him about is going to take more than a drink,” Sasha said. “I don’t want to ruin your night.”

  “Then if you think this’ll take a while,” Juliana said, “I can make longer plans.”

  When Sasha glanced at her friend, she found Juliana looking off to the side of the lobby, near the concierge’s desk, where a man dressed in a burgundy long-sleeved shirt and dark pants was waiting, nearly camouflaged by a crowd of Western businesspeople.

  Juliana glanced back, her eyes full of desire. Full of yearning.

  “Go,” Sasha said, releasing her friend’s hand. It felt as if she were giving up a lifeline, coming to float and bob on her own.

  Juliana smiled, whispered, “Good luck,” then moved to where Tristan was, and Sasha felt as if she’d been set adrift.

  But when she turned to see Chad waiting so patiently for her, she took a deep breath and dove in.

  FROM BEHIND THE GROUP of businesspeople, Tristan watched Juliana approach, his pulse swatting at him as he recalled yesterday and how she’d left him to toss and turn last night, unable to stop thinking about her.

  But now, here she was in a Wonderland-blue dress that clung to her waist, her hips. She’d worn her hair long again, and he wanted to damn all the hands-off customs in this country and slide his fingers through it as she came to stand in front of him, looking as pleased as pie.

  “Phase One complete,” she said, referring to Chad, Sasha and the setup Tristan had facilitated based on the drink-fueled talk he’d had with his cousin last night over room service. But neither he nor Juliana glanced over at the star-crossed couple.