She locked her knees. “That’s your home.”
“Hai.”
“You…want to take me to your home.”
“Do you need it in writing? Yes. My home. We will have privacy there. No interruptions.”
“I think if you go home, you should take your daughter, not me.”
“Would you prefer to have her with us? A twelve-year-old chaperone?”
“Maybe.”
“You do not have to sleep in my bed, Helen, whether Kimiko joins us or not.”
“For a man who often dances politely around a topic, that’s pretty blunt.”
“I hope that you will choose to sleep in my bed,” he allowed. “But you have a choice. You always do.”
“She probably has school classes.”
“Hai.”
“If I said I wanted her to go with us, you would take her out, anyway?”
“Hai.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “Even though my dreaded American ways might rub off on her during that time.”
“How many ways do I say yes?”
“All right,” she said abruptly. “Two days. And then we come back and you sign on the dotted line.”
“And Kimiko? Do I call her headmaster?” He moved toward the phone as he spoke.
Helen bit her lip. She was charmed by Mori’s daughter and the idea of the young girl’s company was more than appealing. But she knew a portion of that appeal was because of the barrier Kimiko would provide between her and Mori.
“No,” she said huskily. “I’ll go with you. Alone.”
He nodded. “Do you have a smaller suitcase that you can use? You will not need all of that.” He gestured toward the suitcase still on the bed.
“You want to leave right now?”
“We will stop by my hotel only briefly. We will be in Nesutotaka by lunchtime if we leave now.”
“Jack and everyone else must be furious.”
“I am not concerned with them right now.”
“I…okay.” Proving what a weak-willed soul she was, she couldn’t even summon another protest. “I don’t have a smaller suitcase, but I’ve got a purse that ought to work.” She rummaged through what she’d already packed and pulled it out. “I can’t just leave, though. I’ve got to let them know where I’m going.”
“Then make your calls,” he said. “But if you delay too long, I suspect you will soon have more visitors.”
She thought about that for a long moment. Sooner or later she’d have to deal with them. But at the moment, later seemed the more appealing choice.
She opened the empty hobo-style purse and dropped her toiletry bag inside. “I’ll hurry,” she told Mori.
“Pack those tennis shoes. Or wear them. You will need them.”
She didn’t ask why. She already felt like she was doing what he’d accused—running away. What was more appropriate than wearing running shoes on her feet when she did it?
Three hours later, as they drove into the village of Nesutotaka, Helen knew Mori hadn’t exaggerated in his description of it as a collection of houses spread along a dirt road at the base of a mountain. What it looked like to Helen, though, was an oasis of simpler life set in the jewel tones of miles and miles of lush, green farmland.
She turned to Mori. The uncertainty over what they were doing had abated somewhat during the drive. “It’s beautiful.”
He smiled faintly.
He’d chosen to drive them to Nesutotaka himself, rather than take the car and Akira, his driver. The sports car was exorbitantly expensive and very eye-catching. Not at all what Helen might have expected of the man.
It also had them sitting for the drive from Tokyo extremely close.
She didn’t have the heart to fake a complaint about it when the truth was that his nearness was as much a pleasure as it was a consternation.
The moment his car made its slow way along the bumpy, rutted road, word clearly spread that he’d arrived in the village.
Children, men and women suddenly appeared out of their houses, walking directly toward the road, waving their hands and greeting him by name.
Finally, he simply stopped right there in the center of it all, and rolled down his window.
Helen watched, entranced despite herself, as he laughed and spoke to everyone who tucked their head low enough to peer into the window.
She could only smile and nod as they eyed her and chattered rapidly and grinned and nodded in return. “They say you look like a movie star,” Mori told her when they finally started moving again.
“A movie star?” She made a face. “No, that would have been my former look.”
“You are not allowed to think right now of the man who was your husband,” Mori told her. He closed his hand around hers and set it on his thigh. “It is only you and I here, remember?”
She was excruciatingly aware of the physique beneath her hand. But if he would act casually about it, then so could she.
She turned and looked through the rear window. There was still a cluster of people standing in the road, watching their progress. “Yes, just you and I,” she agreed. “And a village that clearly delights in your presence. I suppose you know most of them?”
“I know all of them. They are all cousins in one way or another. Either on my mother’s side, or my father’s.”
She turned back around. “You’re kidding.”
“Unfortunately, no.” His assurance was arid. “We will stop and greet my mother, and then go on to my home.”
She nodded, still distracted by the notion of possessing so many relatives. He’d already warned her they would visit his mother. “I don’t have even one cousin,” she told him. “Both of my parents were only children, born to their parents who were only children.”
“I’m certain that if you went far enough back, you would find cousins exist.”
“Sure. Distant ones whom I’ve never met and wouldn’t know if I tripped over.”
He looked amused. “Would you like to be an honorary cousin of mine?”
She shook her head, eyeing his lips for a moment. “No, thanks.”
His lips curved faintly. “I thought not.”
The car was moving at the bracing speed of—perhaps—five miles an hour and she was suddenly impatient to be alone with him in his home.
The strength of that particular yearning was still vaguely shocking to her.
Yes, she’d loved George. But—
No thoughts of George.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered softly to Mori.
“Thank you for coming with me.” He leaned forward suddenly and brushed his lips over hers, and then, when the car bounced harder than usual, they pulled apart. “This road is almost needing to be graded again.”
“Almost?” She shook her head and laughed.
His dimple appeared.
After passing another half dozen homes and other unidentifiable structures that she supposed were used as barns for the cattle and goats that grazed, he turned off the road onto an even more unbeaten track. But that path was short and in moments, he’d pulled to a stop in front of a house that had an ancient pickup truck and a luxury sedan parked on the grass, as well.
Mori eyed the sedan. “My father is here,” he said, all of the humor now gone from his face.
Uncertainty came back with a nauseating vengeance. “Did you tell him you were coming here?”
“No.”
There was no point suggesting that he not go in. She knew he wouldn’t avoid seeing his father, even if he wanted to. “I’ll wait in the car.” It seemed the wisest choice.
The senior Mr. Taka loathed her on the business field; she could only imagine how he’d feel seeing her here now with his eldest son. Undoubtedly, he’d be on the phone immediately, calling for another board meeting.
“No. You will come inside with me.”
“Mori, why give your father more ammunition?”
“My father has no need for ammunition and he will n
ot dishonor a guest in his wife’s home. Trust me. My mother is expecting us.” He squeezed her hand and pushed open his car door. “She will not share my father’s opinion.”
Helen wasn’t all that certain of that. Not when she was far more accustomed to having the family of the man she was involved with barely tolerating her presence. “What do you mean that your father has no need for more ammunition?”
“He and I resolved matters before I came to your hotel. Now, please. Come inside with me.”
Clearly, Mori had no intention of sharing with her just how he’d resolved matters with Yukio. And she wasn’t going to argue with him over the issue.
She reached behind her seat for the gift she’d brought for Mori’s mother in the spare minutes she’d had while Mori had packed his own belongings. “How can you be sure your mother won’t share your father’s assessment?” she asked when he came around the car to help her out onto the uneven grass.
He touched her cheek, then took her hand and led her to the house. “She will see that I am happy to be with you,” he said simply.
Her heart squeezed.
Maybe she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life, after all.
As was typical, Mori did not knock on the front door, but slid it open, calling a greeting as they stepped into the genkan.
“You can leave your shoes here.” He stepped out of his own street shoes, and then stepped directly onto the gleaming wood floor that was about half a foot higher than the ground-level floor where they’d entered.
She followed suit, being careful not to touch her stockinged feet to the genkan floor, knowing that would be bad form, as it might track dirt into the house, thereby defeating the purpose of the entry in the first place.
Two pairs of soft ivory slippers were waiting on the house level and they pushed their feet into them before walking along a short hallway that opened into a surprisingly large living area.
Given the traditional nature of the house up to that moment, Helen had expected tradition to continue in the living room. But instead of reed-mat flooring, low tables and floor cushions, there were Western-style couches, chairs and an enormous grand piano in one corner. It was a very comfortable, lived-in room that Helen found appealing.
The sight of Mori’s father sitting like some royal entity in a large chair in the far corner of the room was considerably less appealing.
Thank goodness they’d had warning of his presence by the sight of his car outside.
Helen bowed slightly, acknowledging his presence. He, however, pretty much ignored her.
That was fine. It was certainly better than his open animosity.
Mori’s mother—she could be no other—entered the room from another doorway, her small face wreathed in smiles and a very direct contrast to her husband’s countenance.
“Mori-chan,” she cried, grabbing him practically by the ears as she tugged his head down to kiss his face. She spoke rapidly in between hugs and kisses.
“English, Mama,” Mori told her when she took a breath. “This is my friend, Helen Hanson.”
“Friend,” a deep voice repeated the word caustically.
Mrs. Taka shot her husband a quick look, which seemed to make the man subside in his chair. Then she turned to Helen and bowed deeply. “It is a great pleasure to meet my son’s friend,” she said carefully. “Welcome to our home.”
Helen bowed, too. “Domō arigatō gozaimasu. Thank you very much. I am very pleased to meet you, too.” She extended the basket of fresh flowers and tissue-wrapped pastries that she’d selected from the kitchen at her hotel. In this case, it had definitely paid to be who she was. The manager of the hotel had been incredibly eager to assist her.
“I hope you’ll enjoy these,” Helen told the woman.
“So pretty,” the older woman said, lifting the blooms to her nose. “Thank you.” She turned suddenly toward her husband. “O-jii-san.” Her tone sharpened and the man frowned mightily at her. A frown over which Mrs. Taka seemed to take little offense and the man finally stood.
“Please to be seated,” he told Helen and Mori, his English stiff and cold.
Helen wasn’t sure which seat she was supposed to take, but Mori solved the problem by taking her hand—which earned another eagle-eyed look from Daddy—and leading her to the couch nearest them.
Mrs. Taka was nodding her pleasure and she excused herself after a moment, returning almost immediately with a beautiful wooden tray full of refreshments which she set on the low ebony table in front of them.
Instead of sitting on one of the chairs, however, she kneeled down, sitting on her folded legs next to the coffee table. “You had a good travel?”
“Hai,” Mori answered. “Traffic was light. We made good time. Arrived here earlier than I had anticipated.” He looked at his father. “Apparently, earlier than anyone had anticipated.”
Helen kept her focus on the welcoming demeanor of Mori’s mother. “Mrs. Taka, Nesutotaka is every bit as lovely as Mori described. You grew up here?”
“My family has been here for generations. I find the busyness of the cities—” she hesitated, searching for the word she wanted “—chaotic. My son has told me you live in Chicago.”
“Yes. And it, too, can be chaotic.”
“But your family is there?”
“My stepsons and their families. Well, Jack, the eldest, is in Tokyo now because of the merger.”
Mr. Taka muttered something that Helen felt relieved not to hear clearly. Mori replied, his voice equally low.
“Do you speak Japanese?” Mrs. Taka asked.
“Regrettably, only a little.” Helen lifted her hands slightly, palms turned up apologetically. “I am learning, but not as quickly as I’d like.”
“You have intelligence,” Mrs. Taka said. “My son has told me this. You will learn in time.”
Helen flicked a glance at Mori, sitting beside her. His entire body was tense, and concern for that almost overrode her quiet pleasure that he’d told his own mother that she was intelligent.
“Mori-chan.” Mrs. Taka turned her focus on her son. “When will you bring my granddaughter to see me?”
“In a few weeks, Mama. She’ll have a break from school, then.”
“I miss my granddaughter,” Mrs. Taka told Helen. “I do not see her often enough. Each time, she has grown much between visits.”
“She is a lovely girl.” Helen smiled. “Her English, as yours is, was much better than my Japanese.”
The woman laughed a little. “Kimiko is a challenge to her father, but I delight in everything she does.”
“I think that’s the right of grandparents.”
“Your pretty Hanson-san is very correct,” Mrs. Taka told Mori. “You will tell Kimi-chan that she can bring her favorite movies to share with me on my new television.”
“Mama, you have a TV?”
“Hai. Your father made me a gift of one even though I told him I did not want it. He has a liking for the American football,” she divulged.
Helen couldn’t have been more surprised. She’d believed that Mr. Taka had a disliking for everything American. Maybe it was just her he detested.
“The satellite doesn’t always work,” Mrs. Taka was saying, “but he is content when he is here.”
“Speaking of contentment—” Mori set down his cup and stood “—that is what I seek for the next few days. So, you will please excuse us. We will stop by again before returning to Tokyo.”
Helen hid her relieved surprise at the abruptness of Mori’s announcement, and stood as he kissed his mother’s cheek and exchanged a few words with his father.
Mrs. Taka accompanied them out to the foyer where they exchanged their slippers for their street shoes and walked out into the cool afternoon. Helen felt as if she towered over the diminutive woman as she bowed and thanked her for her hospitality. The woman stood there, watching, until she and Mori drove away from the house.
Helen was silent until they turned back onto the main track
. “Doesn’t your father think he’s won, given the fact that we didn’t sign the papers this morning?”
“No.” He cast Helen a sideways glance. “And now, we put all talk of TAKA and Hanson Media out of doors. We are just a man and a woman. Remember?”
She bit the inside of her lip. That had been a fantasy—one that would be nearly impossible to realize. But for these few days, she would give it her best effort and not think about the hell to pay when they returned to Tokyo and the people who were waiting in a holding pattern. “I remember.”
He squeezed her hand then pointed through the wind-shield at the mountain. The closer they drew to it, the more she realized the car was climbing.
“We will watch the sunrise from the top of that peak,” he told her.
She pressed her lips together, eyeing the peak in question. The mountain was not as imposing as it could have been, but it was still a mountain. “And how do we get to the top of that peak?”
His dimple appeared. “We climb, Mrs. Hanson. How did you think?”
“I don’t know.” She leaned forward, peering through the window. “Helicopter?” she said hopefully.
“What is the challenge in that?” he said, amused.
“Exactly.” But as long as he had that sexy half smile on his face, she knew she’d agree to nearly any sort of mountain climbing.
“You realize—” she cast him a sidelong look “—that if I’m to get to the top of that peak by sunrise, that I’ll have to have an early night tonight.”
“That was my plan.” He suddenly stopped the slow progress of the car, putting it into Park right there in the center of the path. “We’re here.”
Helen looked around them. All she could see was the village slightly below them and the side of the mountain. “Are we camping out?”
His grin widened and he pushed out of the car. She didn’t wait for him to come around and open her door and climbed out, too. He’d popped the trunk and pulled out his small bag and her somewhat larger impromptu overnighter-purse. “Come with me.” He walked ahead of the car several yards.
And then she saw the iron gate that opened right off the road. He pushed it open to reveal stone steps leading even farther up the hill.
Mergers & Matrimony Page 16