by Rory Pralte
Inside Patrick stirred. Then he sat bolt upright. Jesus, was that the doorbell? He looked across the room. The television was still on. Bloody hell. He swung his legs out of bed and plodded, naked and turned off the T.V. Turning to fall back into his bed, he jumped as his doorbell rang – buzz, buzz, buzz. Bleary-eyed, he tried to look through the peephole in the door - nothing. It just looked black. He opened the door, which jolted on the security lock, hiding his body behind the door. His English modesty even worked when he was half asleep. Suzy’s face appeared at the open crack.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Sir,” she said, “but we have reports of an intruder on the premises. We have to check all rooms. I am sorry but can I just see that this room is OK? We are so sorry but the police have told us this is necessary.” Patrick’s brain was not working. No wonder; sixty seconds earlier he had been dead to the world.
“Just a moment,” he stuttered and, closing the door, he staggered into the bathroom and dragged a bath towel from the rail, wrapping it round him. He returned and opened the door slowly.
“Sorry about this, Sir,” Suzy said as she glided past him. “Please shut the door for a moment.” Patrick closed the door and turned around. He looked at Suzy. She was gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous. His brain started to come to life, and looking at this beautiful girl he could feel his loins were also. He held his towel around himself, then gasped as in one moment Suzy stepped right up to him, put one hand on his hairy chest and pressed the other firmly onto his loins, now swelling beneath the towel.
“I....” Patrick started to speak.
Suzy looked at him, kissed him gently and spoke softly and lovingly. “I am sorry to have woken you. I must explain. I saw you earlier in the hotel and was hoping to introduce myself. I have been admiring you and wondering how I could make contact. I work here in the business centre, you see. We have spoken before, when you sent faxes. I don’t expect you remember. Anyway, I was out with my girlfriend tonight and we had a few drinks and I plucked up the courage to come to your room. I want to sleep with you, love you, lick you, fuck you. Please undress me and make love to me - but first, you look like you need a drink. Have I startled you? I suppose I have. Here, sit down and I will get us both a drink from the minibar,” and she sat Patrick on the side of the bed.
Suzy went over to the bar. Patrick watched her every move. Suzy stood in front of the minibar and with a deft move of her hands, unzipped her dress and immediately Patrick was faced with a stunning, glistening body, enhanced by the fact that Suzy was wearing three-inch high heels, a minute g-string which just creased the split in her tight, neat buttocks, lovely curving hips, a tiny, trim waist that then beautifully expanded to show Suzy’s lovely brown back and delicate shoulders and neck.
At that moment Patrick knew, without thinking, that for whatever reason he was going to sleep with this girl. In the depths of his mind he knew he shouldn’t - he was married, had never done this before - but it was going to happen. It was like diving into a swimming pool. By the time your forehead was wet there was no way you could stop yourself entering the water.
Suzy turned around, with two drinks in her hand and stepped towards Patrick, held out his drink, offered it to him and then slowly and deliberately knelt down in front of the seated Patrick, her smooth breasts and taut nipples visible through her lace bra, passing right in front of Patrick’s face. He took a large swig of Scotch. The spirit burned his throat and woke him. He stretched his eyes wide open.
Suzy stared into his face, resting her arms and drink on his towel-covered knees. “Well,” she said, “shall we introduce ourselves? My name is Suzy and I already know your name, Patrick. Did I make a good alarm call?” Suzy smiled and Patrick, leaning forward, caressed her hair and kissed her. They were locked in a passionate embrace.
“Come to bed then,” said Patrick, and slid himself to the top of the bed, his towel still around him, and patted the bed next to him.
Suzy grinned, finished her Scotch and, with a mischievous smile, stood up. “I’ll just put out the ‘Do not disturb’ sign on the door, Patrick. We surely don’t want any interruptions from now on? I’m sure I don’t.” She glided over to the door, hung the sign on the handle and carefully and quietly fixed the lock so that anyone could enter, then gently pushed it closed. She then turned again to face Patrick, undid her bra and threw it across the room, slid her g-string off and, planting her feet firmly apart, still in her high-heeled shoes, she rubbed herself, throwing her head back and moaning, “Patrick please eat me.” She then kicked off her shoes and was on the bed grinding her pussy into Patrick’s face and moaning.
Outside in the corridor, at the end, in the shadows, was a Japanese with a video camera. Not an unusual sight throughout the world today but at three in the morning on the corridors of a Tokyo hotel, highly unusual.
As soon as the sign ‘Do not disturb’ was placed outside Patrick’s room this Japanese, thirty years old, slight, wiry with an evil scar down the right side of his neck, went straight up to Patrick’s door. Slowly he opened it and, seeing that Suzy was doing her stuff with Patrick, he quietly crossed the room, slid behind the curtains and, through a small gap, started videoing the night’s events.
Taduii’s first plan was going well. If it went through OK then he might be able to sort out this business with Patrick. He was betting on blackmail and hoping the last thing Patrick wanted was to be shown up to his wife and family as a whoremonger when away.
At 5am a tired Japanese man very quietly let himself out of Patrick’s room. Sprawled on the bed, half covered by sheets, were the still half entwined sleepy bodies of two people who had explored just about every area of each other’s body and might rightly be described as completely fucked.
Taduii was going to be very happy with his video from the night’s pleasures.
It was 7.40 when Patrick woke. He was spreadeagled diagonally across the bed, one arm hanging down the side of the bed. The room was bathed in early morning light coming through the curtains. There was no one else in the room. Patrick lay with his head to one side, thinking about the night’s events. His mouth was stale, the room smelt of bodies, mingled with a hint of a woman’s perfume. He slowly rose from the bed, staggered into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. Two bloodshot eyes slowly focussed and he felt slightly bemused and guilty as he ran over the memories of the night’s exercises. He ran the shower. The curtains and the bath were still wet from where Suzy had showered earlier, before slipping quietly away at 6.30. The water ran cold. He half-heartedly put his head under this but withdrew quickly and adjusted the temperature until it was hot but bearable. He washed his hair and soaped himself from head to toe, scrubbing himself thoroughly around his nether regions. Christ, what a night, he mused, I hope to Christ I haven’t caught anything from that girl. He couldn’t quite believe that the night had happened. Either the girl was telling the truth or he’d been set up for some reason. He’d have to keep this night a secret from Anne. She’d be none too impressed if she knew!
At that moment the phone rang. Patrick stepped out of the shower and crossed the bathroom into the bedroom, his wet feet marking the carpet. He grabbed the crumpled sheet from the bed and wiped his hands and quickly rubbed his hair and nose. He picked up the phone. It was Taduii.
“Mr Chase.” Taduii’s voice sounded bright and lively, especially for 7.45 in the morning. “I know you were supposed to ring me at 10.00 but now we need to meet at 2pm at the Imperial. Can you make it then?”
Patrick’s brain clicked into action. He was used to Skymar suddenly changing arrangements. It was a favourite trick of Michael’s in negotiations. Patrick thought fast. Hang on, how did Taduii know where he was staying? He coughed. “Taduii-San, we arranged a meeting for 10am. This is an important meeting, especially for you. We need to resolve serious matters. Why can’t you make it at 10am and why the change of venue? Taduii, don’t mess me about. Things are too serious fo
r any of Michael’s games.”
Taduii replied, “We have a series of top-level meetings called at Watanabe Trading this morning. We haven’t got any rooms available for our meeting. I will be free from one o’clock so we have arranged to meet in a suite in the Imperial.” Patrick heard the answer but he was not listening. How the hell did Taduii know where he was staying? The girl, Suzy; of course, it had to be a set-up by Taduii. Why? What for?
Patrick answered Taduii. “OK - 2 at the Imperial”.
“I’ll meet you at reception.” The phone went dead.
Patrick put down the receiver. He was slowly becoming very angry with himself. How could he be so stupid? If Taduii had set him up with Suzy it had to be for some leverage, maybe blackmail. Patrick finished his ablutions, slowly dressed and, gathering up the odd ends of bedclothes, he threw them in a heap on the bed. First some coffee and breakfast and a lot of thinking.
After a breakfast of a number of orange juices, coffees and a good plate of scrambled eggs on toast, Patrick had thought through the night’s events and decided to firstly check on the authenticity of Suzy and whether he really had excited someone that much just by being seen in the hotel. He doubted it very much. In the cold light of day, although a very flattering thought, it seemed very implausible, especially in view of Taduii’s phone call. It seemed much more like some kind of set-up.
Patrick went to the reception area of the hotel and seated himself in front of the imposing desk of the assistant manager, resplendent in his dark suit, white shirt and black tie. A wooden name plate sat on the polished desk in front of Patrick. Kazumi Harada, Assistant Manager.
Patrick coughed. Kazumi Harada looked up from his ledger file he was working on and said, “How can I help you?”
“Harada-San,” Patrick spoke slowly, so the Japanese could understand. “I wish to lodge a complaint.” The Assistant Manager sat more upright. Patrick continued. “Last night, very late, a girl called Suzy came to my room. She stated she worked in the hotel in the business centre and was attracted to me. I do not find it amusing to be woken in the middle of the night and wish to make a formal complaint.”
Kazumi Harada looked very serious. “Can you describe the girl and do you know her full name? This is a very grave charge. Our staff are forbidden from fraternising with guests. Just one moment, I will get a list of all the girls who work in our business centre. Please wait a moment.” Harada rose, and went into the Manager’s office.
Patrick faintly smiled to himself. If it wasn’t so serious it would be funny. Can I describe the girl, thought Patrick; better than you think!
In two minutes Kazumi Harada had returned. He placed in front of Patrick a series of photographs of eight Japanese girls, all in their hotel uniforms with their names underneath the photos. Patrick’s eyes flipped through all eight. No one called Suzy and the girl who had pleasured him the previous night was not in the photos.
“These are all the girls who work in our business centre. Please tell me the one who you say came to your room. She will be instantly dismissed.” Harada’s face was very serious.
“Harada-San, none of these girls are Suzy. I think I may have been the victim of one of my colleagues’ ideas of a joke. I apologise for bothering you. Thank you for your attention over this matter. I will speak to my colleagues and ask them to apologise. Thank you once again.”
Patrick rose, shook Harada’s hand and made his way back to his room. When he got there the maid was just finishing making up the room. Patrick gestured to her to finish and he went and sat on the chair to clarify in his mind what he was going to do. It was ten o’clock.
The meeting at the Imperial was at 2pm. The sun shone through the window. He would walk to the Imperial,which would probably take forty-five minutes. That would help clear his head. Now, what to do about the Suzy business? He had obviously been set up. All he could think was that Taduii was going to try to use the knowledge of Patrick’s infidelity to negate his negotiating position. So what was the worst thing he could do? Tell Patrick’s wife. Jesus. Patrick couldn’t face hurting Anne, especially in the current position where they could lose everything they had ever worked for. Anne was under enough pressure. Patrick deliberately weighed up the alternatives. Say nothing, bluff it out? Come clean with Anne over what had happened, although not in full detail, and warn her that she might get a phone call exposing her husband? He thought. What time was it in England? Two in the morning. If he was going to tell Anne it would be better before his meeting so that he would know his position was clear in the event of any threats. Two in the morning - Patrick knew that if he woke Anne now she would not be very receptive to any discussions. Early mornings were not her strong point, especially 2am discussions about her husband’s infidelity! Not a very good idea. The maid finished cleaning his room, spoke to him in Japanese, bowed slightly and reversed out of the room, vacuum cleaner in hand.
Patrick paced up and down, talking to himself and spinning the different alternatives in his mind. Walking up and down he noticed the small red message light on his phone was flashing. He sat on the side of the bed, lifted the phone and dialled reception.
“You have a message for me?” he enquired to the clerk who answered.
“One moment, Sir,” and after a few seconds the clerk continued.
“You have a fax. Do you want it brought to your room?”
“No,” said Patrick, “I will come and collect it.” Patrick rose, checked he had his room keys and walked to the lift and descended to the ground floor, went straight to reception and collected his fax.
He chose a corner in reception, not occupied by other groups of businessmen, sat down and read the three-page fax. It was from Anne in London, with some up-to-date company figures and a message explaining the very desperate situation. If cash of about £50,000 was not forthcoming in the next ten days, or assurances given to the bank, then the bank Manager was threatening to call in the receivers. Anne’s message ended, “Please ring me a.m. today, U.K. time, so I can tell the bank what is happening and when - otherwise we could lose our house. Love Anne.”
Patrick sighed. Timing; it was everything and the way things looked at the moment it seemed that bad timing was 100% against him.
He looked at his watch, 11.05. Just under three hours until his meeting at the Imperial. Too early even then to speak to Anne. No, he would have to go to the meeting and then sort the problems out in the U.K. afterwards. He looked again at his watch. “Right, let’s get a paper, have some coffee then a leisurely walk to the Imperial. I can stop at a noodle stall on the way for lunch.” He looked out of the foyer of the hotel. It was a fine, sunny day in Tokyo, but Patrick felt far from fine and sunny. He’d better get himself in good shape for this afternoon’s meeting. He had to try to get a result and soon but he must not let Taduii know he was pressured. If Michael knew this he would hold out forever.
His walk from the Squire Hotel to the Imperial took about fifty minutes. Patrick was in no hurry. It was a fine day in Tokyo and as he walked along he still received inquisitive glances from some Japanese not especially used to seeing a 6ft, white-haired European walking their streets.
As he walked he turned over in his mind what could be the discussions at and outcome of today’s meeting. Thinking, he tried to itemise the possibilities. Skymar could offer a satisfactory settlement. Probably very unlikely. If they did make an offer, what would be acceptable? Given the morning’s faxed news, could Patrick reduce his figure to a lower and maybe more acceptable level for Skymar and Michael? No, stop these thoughts. If Michael had any inkling that Patrick was prepared to move then he would immediately think Patrick’s position was not as strong as perceived and Michael would play Patrick just like a good game-fisherman wears his quarry down. Patrick had learnt that lesson. Patrick had asked for $350,000 and one per cent royalties. The key was the $350,000 and Patrick knew that Michael would not like this part. Paying out cash to anyone
other than himself and his beloved Jeanette was anathema to Michael. He truly hated it. Maybe, Patrick thought, if an offer of $350,000 or more was made he would reluctantly accept. He knew, in his heart of hearts that even a cast-iron agreement on royalties was going to be worthless.
What else could happen? Most probably, thought Patrick, as he walked along, a paltry offer with lots of strings would be made. What would his reaction be ? He’d have to reject it and remind them that there were only just over three days to go to accept his proposal, otherwise? Otherwise what, thought Patrick. Yes he had threatened injunctions and informing customers over the illegal licensing. I hope that it is a big enough commercial threat to both Watanabe and Skymar to force a settlement he thought. If Taduii’s reactions at Patrick’s previous meeting with Taduii were anything to go by, then it seemed it was being taken seriously.
Patrick started as he partially collided with a Japanese businessman walking in the opposite direction. “I’m so sorry,” blurted out Patrick. He stood back to let the short, black-haired businessman pass and as he did he bowed slightly to Patrick and said a few words in Japanese, unintelligible to Patrick. Patrick gathered his thoughts as he continued on his way along the Tokyo streets. At a junction he noticed, not for the first time, how all the pedestrians, or virtually all, stopped at the red pedestrian lights even when there was no traffic. Patrick could just see that happening in London or America!
As he walked along, starting to enter the more central area of Tokyo, he mulled over his thoughts once more. What else? Well there was the girl! It must have been a set-up. Why? He did not really need to think about that question. So Taduii could blackmail him . Settle or we tell your wife. It had to be. The answer was simple. Patrick had to brazen it out. What story would he tell Taduii? It had to be that it didn’t matter to Anne. OK, he’d think of some stories, prior to his meeting, whilst having lunch.
One thing’s for sure, thought Patrick, if I can’t get this resolved in the next three days, I might as well forget it. The company will be gone.