As Saki had instructed me in one of the morning texts, I told the short girl with long pigtails manning the counter my name, that I had a meeting with Yuuki Sugiwara.
She looked at me curiously and handed back my card and my receipt. She turned behind her, at the workshop, the entirety visible through a floor to ceiling window. Yuuki must have been an employee, and I observed the bustling bakers with their floury hands and tall white hats, and wondered which one was my sister's classmate.
"I'll let him know you're here." She gestured to the Reserved table by the large windows. "Until then, would you wait there, please?"
I smiled. "No problem, tell him there's no rush."
Really. There was no rush. If I never met him, it wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world.
She nodded and turned to the next customer, but then she clapped her hands, mouth set into an O.
"Oh yeah!" She ducked behind the counter and pulled out a small plate with a golden border and a matching tiny fork. Upon it, was a small rectangle of orange-colored cake, covered with pink frosting and a plump glazed strawberry perched on top. "Mr. Sugiwara set this aside for you. It's not available for sale yet." She placed the cake on my tray with not a small amount of pomp and circumstance. "It's Mr. Sugiwara's own creation. Strawberry and mango mousse cake."
"Oh," I said, nonplussed. For the sake of my weight, I shouldn't have been eating something like that. In fact, I was pretty sure I had picked up a few pounds just smelling all the carbs. On the other hand, I couldn't refuse an offering, so I accepted the plate and sat down at the table, moving the Reserved sign to one side.
I sipped the iced coffee, bitter but with an appealing nutty aftertaste, the ice clinking in the tall, perspiring glass and regarded the cake before picking up the small fork, and with a sigh, took a cautious bite.
The exotic flavor of mango coupled with the tart sweetness of strawberry exploded on my tongue and I was halfway through the cake, before I realized that I hadn't even taken a breath. The cake was soft, with a pleasant mouth feel. Not too mushy, but not too hard, just enough bite to make chewing a pleasure, and I stared out the large windows, thinking at the very least, I got a piece of exceptional cake and the day hadn't been a complete waste.
A few minutes later, a tall man wearing a maroon double-breasted chef's uniform with the logo and Patisserie Kashiwa stamped over the breast pocket stopped next to my table, an apologetic expression on his handsome, lean face. There was a smudge of flour along one cheek bone, and I resisted the urge to wipe it away with a napkin.
"Are you Saki's younger sister?" he asked.
I stood and realized with some pleasure that he was taller than I was. I liked that a lot more than I cared to admit. "Yes, I'm Rika. You're Yuuki Sugiwara?"
He bowed, a hand on the back of his neck. "Yes, nice to meet you. I apologize for making you wait. I had a bit of an emergency in the kitchens that needed my attention."
"Not at all," I said as we both sat down. "Thank you so much for the cake. It was delicious."
A dimple dug deep into his right cheek. "Was it? Thank you. It's a new product we've been experimenting with. We might release it this summer. You're the first person besides myself and the employees to have tried this. Do you think it will sell?"
I laughed. "I think you'd have a hard time keeping this on the shelves. If you do decide to sell this, please let me know. I'm supposed to be on a diet, but if I could eat this, I don't think I'd mind getting fat."
He was incredibly pleasant to talk to, and there was something about the openness in his face, the way he held himself that I found to be very comfortable. Like Julian, not at all like Nobuki, with whom I always felt like I hovered on the edge of a proverbial seat.
We shared a few small pleasantries, talking about our high school, even though there wasn't much we had in common, seeing as how he was two years older than I was. Still, we spent some time making fun of our vice principle, famous for wearing a terrible wig that everyone thought looked like a dead rat.
"You were on the baseball team when it went to Nationals, didn't you? What position did you play?" I asked.
"I was the relief pitcher," he replied.
"Did you play a lot?"
He nodded. "I closed all the games until we made it to the semi-finals. If we had won just two more games, we would have won the tournament." He shrugged. "But it wasn't to be. Still, I got a lot of offers to play baseball in university, so losing wasn't the worst thing for me, I think."
"Did you have any thoughts of playing professionally?"
He smiled, his eyes unfocused, as though he was looking at something far away. "I think, at that point in every high school kid's life, everyone thinks they will play pro ball, especially if they stand on the mound at Koshien."
But he didn't say anymore, and I didn't want to press him. Surely, there had to be a big reason why he couldn't play baseball after college and why he was baking cakes in Jiyugaoka. Granted, his store was successful, with people overflowing in the shop and taking up all the tables indoors as well as outdoors, but I'm sure it was less than what a major leaguer could have made.
I took another sip of my drink and tried to think of something innocuous to say.
"I got an injury in college," he blurted out.
I blinked, not sure what he was talking about. "I'm sorry? An injury?"
He shrugged. "Just in case you were wondering why I didn't continue to play baseball. I tore a ligament in my shoulder and couldn't throw as hard or as fast anymore."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said earnestly. "It must have been very difficult to deal with. To have your dreams taken away like that…"
My voice trailed away as I realized I was treading on the edges of something he probably considered painful to remember, but whatever emotions he was feeling, he hid it behind an easy smile.
"Well, I still came out on top, I think," he said, looking around the busy patisserie. "I went to college in France then studied there and Belgium with some of the best patissiers in Europe. My parents own a traditional sweets shop, but I've always prefer Western cakes and cookies." The corners of his eyes crinkled. "Besides, a lot of women say I smell good, so that's a plus, isn't it?"
We laughed at that and while I did feel comfortable around him, I knew nothing but a casual friendship would ever develop between us. But how was I supposed to bring that up without offending him?
"Look, I don't want to upset you," he said suddenly, hands clasped in his lap. "But, I have to ask you something."
My pulse sped up. Good Lord. He wasn't going to suddenly blurt out a confession right here, was he? Saki didn't tell me he was that desperate to tie the knot again!
"I guess so?" I said cautiously.
His gaze went out the window next to us, as though he couldn't bear to meet my eyes. "I know Saki arranged this meeting because she means well."
"She's a force of nature," I said with a short, somewhat nervous laugh. "I couldn't have gone against her wishes, not even with an army at my back."
He snorted. "No kidding. And along that line, I have to confess that she, uh, kind of pushed this meeting on me."
I gawked at him. Wait. So this wasn't a confession of love?
He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair and let out a slow breath. "I appreciate Saki's thoughtfulness, but I don't have any time in my life right now to be in a relationship. I just got out of a divorce. I'm sorry if you came here expecting something different, but that's the truth. I'm sorry to disappoint you."
Something loosened in my chest, and I let out a slow breath, watching the myriad of expressions on his face. Poor guy. He was probably super worried how I'd take his words.
Little did he know.
I tapped the edge of the porcelain cake plate with a painted fingernail. "Like I've said, my sister is a force of nature, and it was either bow to her wishes or get snapped in half like a tree in a storm."
His eyes widened a bit. "So…"
I finished
the ice coffee and set the glass down with a soft metallic clank on the wrought-iron table. "I came here to keep her quiet. Otherwise, she would've never left me alone."
"Then you have no interest in a relationship," he began tentatively, looking at me cautiously, as though he thought I would suddenly say I was lying to save face and burst into inconsolable tears.
I gave him a small smile. "Like you, I'm also not looking for a relationship at the moment. Like I said, I just came here to keep my sister and parents happy."
Letting out an explosive breath, he leaned back in his seat, his gaze going heavenward. "Wow. What a relief. I was so afraid you'd be offended."
"Not at all," I said with a certain amount of airiness. "Let's chalk this up to my sister's stubbornness and go our separate ways."
"Agreed." He smiled.
We chatted for a few minutes longer, only because it would have been awkward to leave at that moment, our conversation mostly centering around his relationship with Saki.
When I left the bakery, a cake box with the most expensive chocolate truffle cake on display he insisted I take no matter how much I refused, I came away with the very distinct feeling that if he was interested in a Hasegawa girl, it definitely wasn't me. There was something in his eyes whenever we talked about Saki, the way the corners of his eyes relaxed when her name was mentioned.
As I took the subway back home, I thought about Saki and Yuuki as a prospective couple, and thought what a good match they would make. He was solid and steady, while my sister was a firebrand and somewhat impetuous. He could keep her centered while she could make him laugh. Saki would kill me if I ever suggested she date Yuuki herself, but I wondered if I could plant the seed in my mother's head.
I sighed at the thought of my parents. As much as they didn't want to pressure me about getting married and having children, I knew they were looking forward to hearing a good conclusion come out of today's meeting. Even though they would be a little disappointed the date didn't go as planned, they would do their best to hide their true feelings.
The problem was Saki. She was sure to yell at me for failing the meeting, but at least she'd have to do it over the phone. I could always just hang up on her and hope she forget about my transgressions the next time we met, which I hoped wasn't for a few weeks.
All my hopes died when I arrived home and walked into our courtyard, and saw my parents door propped open to let in the sweet-smelling spring air. A pair of black spike high heels sat in the entryway and they sure as hell didn't belong to my mother.
Holding my breath, praying the TV would mask my steps as I tiptoed past the open door, I wondered what she was doing back in Tokyo so soon. Didn't she have work?
Surely, she didn't come back just to make sure my date went well?
I had one hand on the metal railing when I heard a loud voice come from the open doorway.
"Ah-hah! Rika!"
I winced and then turned around, pasting a smile on my face. "Hi, sis. Hey, look, it's good to see you, but I'm tired. I'm going upstairs to take a nap. I'll see you at dinner."
Or never, if I had my way.
Despite her slim, five-foot frame, she stomped towards me with all the force of a rampaging gorilla, her delicate nostrils flaring.
"What's this I hear about your meeting not going well?"
I sighed. "Look, it was okay. But he's your friend, not mine. We talked and there just wasn't anything there, so I said goodbye and left."
She sneered at me, fists grinding into her narrow hips. "I don't believe you. Yuuki is a perfectly good guy, and he needs a wife to help him with his bakery. Did you know he's planning on opening another location in Ginza? What do you mean, there wasn't anything there? You guys are perfect together. You're just being stubborn for stubbornness sake, aren't you?"
I barely managed to restrain another sigh of exasperation. "Saki, did it ever occur to you to ask if he wanted this meeting? According to him, it sounds like you forced him into this. Like you forced me and then used emotional blackmail in the form of Mom and Dad to get me to go."
"So?" she asked, her eyes blazing, spitting out the words like pellets from a shotgun. "Who cares about the process as long as the results pan out?"
"Well, it didn't work out, so I'm sorry you had to waste your time. I'm going upstairs now. I'm tired."
I turned to go, wishing I had the guts to turn her down in the first place last week when she first suggested this.
"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to make me look bad, aren't you?" she asked loudly.
I winced, knowing the neighbors heard every word between us and were probably making popcorn in the oven, eschewing their Saturday variety programs for the show going on right outside their windows.
"No, I'm not," I said. My patience was starting to wane. "If I wanted to make you look bad, I wouldn't have gone. But because you asked, I went. Anyways, he seemed more interested in you than me, so, if you're so interested in his well-being, why don't you date him?"
"You probably don't even care enough to be with someone," she snapped. "You never cared enough. Ever since we were children."
I turned around, schooling my face into an emotionless mask. "I'm not a child anymore. You can't force me to do anything I don't want to do, Saki. Can we stop now? You're creating a scene."
She took a step forward, and despite myself, I felt myself retreat. I didn't want to think of it as running away, but honestly, there was no other way to describe my actions.
"Do you remember Ryuhei?" Her voice was taunting.
My stomach wobbled uncomfortably as she brought up an incident in high school I had tried very hard to erase from my mind.
In fact, I thought I had, until she brought up his name again. "Don't. Don't you dare, Saki. Stop."
I didn't want to be angry, but she was my sister and she knew exactly where to stick me with her words.
Saki took another step, her eyes narrowed, blazing. "You do remember him. That's something. I thought you would have forgotten him. Just like everything else you never cared about."
I clenched my jaw so tight I thought my teeth were going to shatter. "Forget? How could I forget about the guy my older sister decided to steal from me? Do you have any idea how fucked up that is? You didn't care about him. You could've had any guy you wanted and yet you chose to go after Ryuhei after you discovered he asked me out."
"Oh please!" A short, contemptuous laugh left her lips. "Don't be all dramatic. You think I cared about that idiot? I took him away as a lesson. I thought you would fight for him. What kind of girl lets her own sister take her boyfriend? How could you just stand there and let me take him? I thought I was making you stronger, but you never learned how to fight, did you?"
I struggled to breathe, my hands shaking badly, and I turned away, this time no longer trying to hide the fact that I was escaping.
But this time, it wasn't for my sake, it was for Saki's.
"Running away again?" she taunted. "You coward."
You coward.
Throwing caution to the wind, I faced her and for once, didn't feel bad that I loomed over her. In fact, I took great childish pride in it. Of course, Saki wasn't intimidated. A herd of stampeding bulls couldn't have fazed her…certainly not a little sister she pushed around for twenty-eight years.
"What did you call me?" I whispered, only slightly aware of the random doors opening, windows getting pushed open, many eyes on us.
Sensing danger, Mom come towards us, wiping her hands on a small kitchen towel, Dad standing by the door, his brows furrowed, arms crossed.
Saki smiled, but it wasn't warm. "You heard me." She raised her hand and poked me hard in the chest. "You coward."
Something snapped. I couldn't describe it.
Everything went hazy and white and the next thing I knew, my hand flew up and into her face.
The slap echoed in the courtyard.
For a moment, no one breathed.
My hand still hovered in the a
ir. Chest heaving, I stared at my sister as she stared back at me mutely, a hand going up to her red cheek.
"I—" I stammered, automatically falling back to my default mode: apologizing.
My mother jumped into action and pushed herself between Saki and myself, her eyes wide with shock.
Of course she should be.
Everyone was.
I was Rika, the quiet, steady one, not Saki, the loud-mouthed one with a crazy temper that no one knew whom she inherited it from.
"You don't know anything about me," I said to Saki. "I'm not the same girl from high school. I'm an adult now. Don't push me around like a child."
"Rika!" said my mother, holding her arms out, as though she thought I was going to throw myself at my sister. "Apologize to your sister immediately!"
I looked at her.
"No."
Numbly, I walked up the stairs, ignoring the calls for me to come back. When I got to the fifth floor, I couldn't hear anyone anymore.
After locking the door behind me, I kicked off my shoes, slid the cake into the fridge and fell face-first into bed.
The next morning, I woke up and stared at the white ceiling, wondering why I felt like absolute crap.
Then I remembered.
The date that lead nowhere.
Saki's infuriated face when she learned I had little interest in her friend.
Then her goading me.
Me slapping her across the face.
I groaned and buried my face into the pillow, wishing to hell that yesterday afternoon was just a dream.
But no, it had really happened.
Even though I'd been the one to do it, I still couldn't believe it. I, who had never hit anyone before in my entire life, had slapped my own sister across the face.
My stomach growled. I'd skipped dinner and fell asleep somewhere around eight and my stomach was not pleased with its empty state.
His Until Dawn (Kissing the Boss Book 3) Page 10