His Until Dawn (Kissing the Boss Book 3)

by Fionn Jameson

  My best friend was formidable, but she wasn't impenetrable.

  Hopping from foot to foot, I watched the elevator come up the fourth floor, the fifth floor, then the sixth.

  At the end of the hall, the door screeched open, followed by Ayaka's enraged scream and I spun on one heel to find Ayaka wrapped around a security guard, bashing him with her handbag, while he tried to escape her.

  "Go, Rika! I've got him!" she screamed. "Just go!"

  My hands clenched into fists. I wanted to go to her. I wanted to help her.

  But I couldn't afford to lose sight of the final goal.

  Three more security guards popped out into the corridor.

  One of them pointed a finger at me. "There she is! Stop her!"

  The elevator pinged open behind me.

  Without looking, I jumped in, falling over a body that went oomph underneath me.

  Barely able to think straight, terror galvanized me to stab at the close-door button, pressing it a million times as the security staff got close enough to almost give me a heart attack.

  "Come on, come on," I begged, almost breaking my forefinger on the button as the doors started to slide shut agonizingly slow. "Please, close, damn it!"

  The security guard in the front was close enough so I could see his nametag reading Hayashi, his face contorted with effort.

  He dove forward, one arm outstretched to stop the doors from closing.

  But he fell short and the doors closed shut with a resounding thud.

  The elevator continued its ascent, and I fell back against the wall, breathing hard, hand over my speeding heart, wondering if I was going to die of a heart attack.

  "Well, this is an exciting lunch break," said a soft, feminine voice from behind me, making me screech.

  I whipped my head around so fast I got dizzy. "Saku!"

  Sakurako Nii from HR wiped her glasses on the edge of her light gray blouse before returning them to the bridge of her nose.

  "Hi, Rika. Starting a revolution?"

  As an afterthought, I pressed the button for the top floor, even though I had no idea where the disciplinary hearing was. "Not…really. I—"

  She blinked owlishly behind her tortoise-shell glasses. "I heard a rumor you were looking for Nobuki Miyano. Is that true?"

  "Er…" I said hesitantly. "Yes?"

  She nodded, her lips thinning. "He's on the twenty-fifth floor, in room 14. If you're lucky, the meeting will still be going on now."

  She reached past me to press the button for the that floor.

  "You're helping me? And how did you know where he is?"

  Her eyes twinkled. "I'm in HR, I know where everyone is. Besides, I think this is all very exciting. Like a drama!"

  "Trust me, I wish it wasn't."

  She giggled, one hand over her mouth. "You know, a lot of people are rooting for you and Mr. Miyano."

  "They are?" I asked numbly. "They don't…hate me?"

  "Are you kidding me? You guys are like the Cinderella couple of the entire building. Even Haru helped."

  I blinked. "She what?"

  "Surprising, isn't it?" she said nonchalantly. "When the security staff tried to pile into the elevators, she made her friends interfere with them and she rallied everyone into the elevator so it was overloaded and couldn't go up. That's when the guards used the stairs."

  "But—but—" I stammered. "She hates me! Why would she bother?"

  Her laughter was soft. "I think you underestimate Haru. She can be a little difficult to get close to, but on the inside, she's just a big, soft kitty."

  Picturing Haru in such a way was almost too much to handle. Haru an old, spoiled pussycat?

  Focus. I had to focus.

  The elevator read 20…21…22…23…

  "Good luck." Saku patted my shoulder. "We're all rooting for you."

  Her words filled me with gratitude, and I hugged her quickly, knowing it wasn't enough. I wasn't sure if anything would truly be enough. "Thanks, Saku. Thanks so much. How am I supposed to repay everyone?"

  "Being happy with Mr. Miyano is a good start."

  The elevator slid to a smooth stop, pinging once before the doors rolled open with a soft whir.

  I gave Saku a sickly smile. "Well, here goes."

  "You can do it." She flashed a thumbs up. "Remember, it's room 14."

  "Thanks," I said gratefully and stepped into the corridor.

  The room closest to me was 1, which meant 14 was at the end of the hall.

  But then the elevator next to us pinged, and Saku and I exchanged a glance, knowing whatever was going to come out wasn't good.

  "Go," she said, waving me ahead. "I'll take care of this."

  The corners of my eyes prickled.

  So many people helping me.

  How could I ever hope to repay them all?

  "Go!"

  I fled down the corridor, listening to her argue with the security staff.

  "I keep telling you, we're chasing that woman down there!"

  "Oh, are you? Well, where's your clearance? I demand to see your clearance. I can't let anyone up here unless they have permission."

  "I don't need a clearance, lady, we're the goddamned security staff!"

  Finally, I came to room 14.

  I would've liked to take a moment to compose myself, but the frenetic, pounding footsteps behind me made that impossible, so I settled with taking a deep breath before wrapping a hand around the cold, smooth doorknob.

  "Someone, stop her!"

  "Hey you! Stop!"

  Hah, not a chance in hell.

  Not looking back, I gave the knob a quick jerk, and let myself in.

  The moment I stepped into the large conference room with the floor-to-ceiling windows along two sides of the room and saw how many people were there, I wanted to slam the door shut and run back towards the elevators.

  But it was either back in that room, filled with people who made as much in one month as I did in an entire year, or back into the hallway with the security guards, hot in pursuit right behind me.

  I recognized most of the people sitting at one end of a long glass table. Chairman Hamazaki, his bald head shining underneath the lights, the financial manager, the head of HR, and a few other people whom I only knew by appearance and their group of assistants.

  At the other end, sitting all by himself, wearing a crisp blue buttoned shirt, his dark hair slicked back to expose the sharp, clean lines of his face, glasses perched on the end of his nose, looking every inch the consummate professional was Nobuki Miyano.

  They all turned to stare at me, with varying degrees of surprise and shock, the head of HR standing, her narrow mouth flopping open in horror.

  Of course, Nobuki, the excellent poker player, could never let something so gauche as astonishment show on his handsome face.

  No, he chose to show his surprise with an eyebrow raised a quarter of an inch.

  He looked polished and formidable, while I was breathing hard, bent over from a stitch in my side, hair straggling around my red, damp face.

  Without another thought, I bent ninety degrees from the waist, staring at the gray and white patterned carpet.

  "Please don't fire Mr. Miyano!" I shouted. "He is an exemplary and valuable employee to Shokogan Publishing. If anyone should be fired, it should be me!"

  There. I said it.

  The door burst open with an ear-splitting thud behind me.

  "What is the meaning of this?" shrieked the head of the financial department, Director Fukushima. "What's she doing here?"

  "Much apologies, Director Fukushima," stammered the security guard. He yanked hard on my arm and another guard's hand tightened painfully on my other arm. "She slipped past the security scanners, and we had some trouble with employees who tried to interfere with our duties."

  With a grunt, he almost wrenched me clean off my feet, but I leaned forward, struggling to stay in place.

  "Don't make us use excessive force," he muttered, for my ears only. Ha
rada, I think his name was. "I don't want to hurt you."

  "You're going to have to," I spat back, "because that's the only way you're getting me out of here."

  But no matter how hard I tried, I felt my body moving backwards, and in one desperate movement, I lunged with one hand, latching onto the doorway, my nails biting into the wood.

  "Please!" My throat felt like it was going to burst. "Don't fire Mr. Miyano. He's the most hard-working employee you have! He comes in before I do, and leaves late at night. You'll never get another employee like him again!"

  "What the hell are you doing? Get her out of here!" shouted one of the men sitting at the end, rising to his feet. His eyes narrowed behind his thick-rimmed glasses and spittle flew from his mouth. "What the hell do we pay you idiots for? You can't even remove a single woman between the three of you?"

  Desperation fueled me, made me stronger, and when the security guards managed to pry my fingers off the doorframe, I wrenched away and dove back into the room.

  But my feet got tangled up, and I fell hard on my chin.

  I bit my tongue hard and blood filled my mouth as black spots sparked in the corners of my vision.

  It was deathly quiet in the room as Nobuki rose from his chair, no longer expressionless.

  I'd seen that same look once before, in Los Angeles.

  In the convention hall parking lot, underneath the trees when the memories of a certain horror authoress, trying to choke me to death, because she saw me as a perceived threat to her relationship with Nobuki.

  His placid porcelain mask cracked, and I witnessed the true emotions roiling just below the placid surface.

  I knew I could no longer call him a cold bastard anymore. If possible, I think he ran hotter than anyone else.

  Tears rolled down my face as the security guards hauled me up to my feet and proceeded to drag me out of the room.

  God, I was so tired.

  And I had failed.

  Sobs stuck in my throat, and I couldn't see straight for all the tears swarming into my vision.

  "Please," I said, around a mouthful of blood trickling down my chin. "Please don't fire Nobuki. This is all my fault. I tempted him. Everything is my fault."

  Someone stopped in front of me, tall, lean, smelling faintly of pine needles and tangerines.

  "Let her go."

  The threat was implicit in Nobuki's voice, and the guards let go in a hurry, leaving me staggering from the sudden lack of support.

  And then his shoulder was under mine, keeping me upright, something soft against my chin.

  I rolled my head into the space between his neck and shoulders, wetting it instantly with my tears.

  "I'm sorry," I sobbed, hating myself utterly. "I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen."

  "Hush." His voice was infinitely gentle. It only made the tears come faster. "Here, a tissue. You're bleeding all over yourself."

  "And you."

  He muttered, "I don't care about that."

  "What're you doing?" A woman screeched in outrage. It sounded like the head of HR. God, she was such a bitch. "Get her out of here!"

  Someone approached from behind. "Right away, Mrs. Katsura."

  Nobuki's arms tensed around me. "Don't touch her."

  A softer, older voice interceded, cutting through all the shouts, like a cool, calm breeze sliding into a maelstrom of sharp leaves.

  "Now, there is no need for this kind of violence."

  Chairman Hamazaki rose from his seat, clapping to get everyone's attention.

  He nodded in our direction. Nobuki's arm tightened around my shoulder, hard enough to make me squeak in protest.

  "Are you hurt?" asked the old man.

  I clapped a hand over my bleeding mouth to keep from dripping onto the pristine, white carpet. "I'm fine, Chairman Hamazaki."

  "Very well." He sat back down, motioning to the opposite side of the table. "Please, sit down. Let's discuss the situation.,

  Mrs. Katsura adjusted her glasses. "Chairman Hamazaki, this is most irregular!"

  "I've taken your complaint to heart, Mrs. Katsura." He gave her a sunny smile that made her falter, her stern expression flicker. "Harada, you may leave."

  The head of security snapped a salute and retreated with the rest of the guards, closing the door securely behind them.

  The room went painfully silent, and I followed Nobuki to the other chairs opposite from the higherups, keeping my gaze down. Meeting the disapproving stares coming from across the table was more than I could handle at the moment.

  Nobuki poured a glass of water for me, and I used it to wet tissues to swipe away the drying blood on my chin.

  My eyes felt swollen and hot. No doubt I looked even worse next to Nobuki, but at least I didn't feel like I was going to die of a heart attack as my pulse returned to normal.

  Making sounds of disapproval, Mrs. Katsura sat back down.

  Pointedly ignoring her, Chairman Hamazaki looked at me. "I'm sorry for your treatment, Miss Hasegawa. We were informed by Mr. Miyano of your illness, and that is why you could not make it to the hearing."

  Surprised, I flicked a glance at Nobuki, not sure how I was supposed to respond.

  The mask was back in place as he faced the committee with an implacable expression. "I did not think it necessary for Miss Hasegawa to attend."

  Chairman Hamazaki's lips twisted up in an amiable smile. "Always a consummate gentleman."

  Nobuki inclined his head to one side. "Thank you, sir."

  The questioning started up then in earnest, and while Nobuki answered all the questions concisely, I felt like an idiot, mumbling, my tongue tingling from the deep bite.

  As the hearing stretched on, I realized why Nobuki hadn't told me about it, why he tried to spare me from this agonizing meeting.

  Mrs. Katsura adjusted her glasses for the umpteenth time and closed her file with a disturbing finality. "I don't think there's anything more to discuss. You have both violated the terms of your contracts. There shouldn't be any question as to whether your employment ought to be terminated. Why are we still discussing this? If we did not react accordingly, what kind of message are we sending to the other employees? We can't afford to resort to favoritism, certainly not!"

  Head of Marketing, Mr. Shimatani jumped at her words, his mouth falling open. After all, his was the department that would have to take on the extra work should the foreign marketing department close.

  "No, wait just one second. Exactly what is it that you're proposing? I thought we were here to ascertain the truth."

  "Have we not ascertained the truth?" countered Mrs. Katsura. "These two have violated the terms of their employment, indeed a special clause we put in after that distasteful debacle involving Mr. Abe and his secretary."

  "Well, apparently it didn't help, because we've got the same situation on our hands," said a tall, spare man sitting at the far end to her right. "So much for that so-called special clause you fought so hard to put in, Maeko."

  "Don't call me by my first name," she snapped, whirling on him like an enraged tabby. "Don't think I'm not looking very closely at the work your department is putting in, Saito."

  He shrugged, an amused tilt to his thin brows as though the entire situation interested him. It probably did.

  "Just as you say."

  I bit my lip, wanting very much to shout this was nothing like Mr. Abe and Aimi.

  But saying "It was just that one time" wouldn't go over well with the company executives.

  Chairman Hamazaki sighed, shaking his head. "Indeed, it is in the terms of employment. Nobuki Miyano, do you remember seeing such clause in your contract?"

  I could've been sitting next to a statue for all the emotion he showed.

  He nodded once. "I did."

  "And you remember what the punishment was?"

  Another nod. "Immediate termination of employment."

  My hands curled into fists in my lap.

  This was unfair, so unfair. I was helpless, unab
le to do anything but get buffeted by the waves of fate, trying desperately to draw in a breath before the water closed over my head again.

  The old man opened a file folder, riffling through a few papers. "And yet, your work here has been exemplary. I have glowing recommendations from several other department heads. And if I dissolved the foreign marketing department, where would that leave you and your employees, Mr. Shimatani?"

  The person in question coughed nervously, adjusting his tie, even though it was already quite loosened. "There's no denying the extra workload would be quite taxing. Not to mention, we don't have the man power or the employees with the appropriate abilities. In a few months, we might be prepared if we hired the right people, but if you were to toss the foreign marketing department's workload on us, it would be quite…" He licked his lips, shifting in his seat. "Worrying."

  Chairman Hamazaki nodded, his gaze steady on Nobuki. "I see. That is unfortunate news."

  "Chairman Hamazaki, I hope you will not take this as presumptuous, but it's important we make an example out of these two," said Mrs. Katsura who looked angry enough to spit nails. "Why, the rumors floating around the company, it's incredibly bad for morale and you know what that does for productivity."

  "Indeed, Mrs. Katsura." He tapped on the file folder in front of him. "Productivity is important, is it not? As is employee morale. Don't worry, Mr. Shimatani, I have no intentions of dropping the foreign marketing work into your lap. Not right away." His gaze sharpened. "But there must be some kind of example. You are correct, Mrs. Katsura. We cannot allow this transgression to go by without the due consequences."

  Oh God. My throat swelled.

  Someone was going to get fired.

  A heaviness in the pit of my stomach, I stood up, the chair legs scraping harshly against the carpet.

  "Please fire me," I said steadily, jaw tight. "I assume full responsibility for my actions. My presence with the company is negligible, but Mr. Miyano sacrificed much of his time and himself to advance the company."

  There was a thick, choking silence, and I fought not to shrink as Chairman Hamazaki's piercing gaze went right through me.

  Nobuki cleared his throat. "She's wrong. This is not her fault. I coerced her."