Shaundra guessed Harper liked the way the dress fit her from the way he stopped talking in midsentence the moment she exited the elevator and walked into the lobby to meet him and the others. Even Jackson smiled wickedly at her.
Shaundra pulled at the hem, which didn't do any good since there wasn't much dress. The high heels probably made it look shorter and she was thankful for the hose. She hated to be all dressed up with bare legs.
"Ooh, look at you," Riley commented. "Who would have thought you were hiding that killer body beneath those business suits?"
Shaundra rolled her eyes at him. "Let's get this over with before I get arrested."
Dorothy walked up to her. "Honey, if I had your body, I'd be exposing more than that." Of course, she could say that. Dorothy was nicely dressed in a blue pants suit, tan pumps and accessories. The men looked sleek in their lightweight suits and matching ties. She had to give it to Harper. He did have excellent taste in clothing.
The limousine driver waited. They entered the car and the driver drove away from the curb. He turned on the stereo and Japanese pop music filtered out of all the speakers. Shaundra had to admit that some of the songs sounded pretty good. Not understanding the words wasn't a problem as long as she could move to the rhythm of the music.
The driver drove them to a club located in Shibuya. They exited the car and gathered stares from a line of young people curious to see who was arriving in the limousine. Some of them seemed disappointed not to recognize them.
Japanese youngsters with ages ranging from early twenties to early thirties stood in line waiting to enter. Jackson and Riley would fit right in, she thought as they walked to the back of the line. The young people were dressed in popular club clothes. The women had on short dresses and high heels while the men donned suits or casual clothes they could dance in.
Most of them had cell phones up to their ears or in their hands, texting.
The line moved swiftly despite their dawdling and preoccupation with technology.
The music filtered out through the door each time it opened. It was loud, but she guessed it had to be that way. Inside, the place looked like most clubs back home, except most of the patrons were Asian. The disk jockey was tearing up the place, spinning records and talking to the crowd.
Dancers were on the floor, sweating and shaking with delight. Harper found them a couple of tables and they sat down, leaving enough room for the other singers and Aomori.
A waitress appeared to get their drink order. Shaundra wasn't much of a drinker. She ordered a soda while the others ordered alcohol.
"There are the other authors," Harper told then over the din of the music and the noise. He waved them over.
The young women wore mini dresses and high heels and the men dressed similarly to the male writers in suits, minus the ties. They sat down at the table and ordered drinks when the waitress returned with their order. That only left Aomori. Shaundra wondered how they were going to pull this off and not draw attention to themselves.
Masaaki Fugimoto entered the lounge and looked around the room until he spotted them. He joined them at the table. "I'm glad you made it.
What do you think of the place?"
"It's nice," Dorothy answered for the group. "Lot of young people who like to party."
Masaaki nodded. "We come here sometimes when we are in Tokyo and Mr. Niigata gives us time off." The waitress returned with the Asian authors' drinks and then went off again to get a beer for Masaaki.
"Where's Aomori?" Riley asked after he drew his eyes off a young woman near the bar he'd been watching since they arrived.
"They are on their way," Masaaki replied.
Aomori entered a few minutes later, accompanied by their bodyguards, and made a beeline for a table across from the authors. They were still recognizable even under the disguises. There was just no way to hide perfection. Shaundra sighed. One of them even waved at the disk jockey, a Japanese man with a blond Mohawk haircut. The disk jockey waved back, but did not call out Takumijo's name.
Satoshi, Yori and Takumijo were quickly set upon by three young women who persuaded them to join them on the dance floor. A fourth approached Ichiro, but he turned her down, which Shaundra thought odd.
In her day, there'd be this one girl...a plain Jane or a wallflower who would be left behind at the table guarding purses and watching drinks.
There was nothing plain about Ichiro. Even from where she sat, she could see how handsome he was behind his disguise. She'd noticed it a little too much during their meeting with Mr. Niigata.
Ichiro had tiny perfect features, creamy unblemished porcelain skin and a lithe frame. He also had blue eyes, a rarity in Japanese. His movements were graceful. That's what she'd seen as she sat across from him yesterday at the meeting. If he'd been a woman, she would have had to consider him beautiful. The others were stunning, too, but they were not as feminine-looking as Ichiro. Damn, why did this bother her so? It wasn't like they were her type. She liked strong, rugged men with rippling muscles and strong enough to toss a bull. Aomori was tall and had muscle, but they had a delicacy about them...like they needed to be protected. Did being lovely and delicate make them less of a man? For some reason, she didn't think so.
"What are you watching so intently?" Harper asked her once the disk jockey took a break and the dancers returned to their seats.
"Ichiro," Shaundra replied.
Everyone at the table turned in his direction and then looked back at her.
"What about him?" Harper asked.
"He's the only one who didn't get up to dance even though a young woman asked him."
"Maybe he can't dance," Jackson replied as he picked up his drink.
"Ichiro is a quiet one," Masaaki explained. "He's into books and cooking and hopes to one day to be a great restaurateur."
"I just figured he was gay," Jackson said.
Masaaki chuckled. "Ichiro? No, I don't think so. He has a bigger female fan base than the other three. He's just the quiet type. I can't wait for you to hear him sing. I was brought to tears the first time I heard him audition. He sang Ave Maria. Took all of us by surprise, including Mr.
Niigata. No, Ichiro isn't gay or vain. He's just Ichiro. He cooks a mean ramen too."
Shaundra looked over at Ichiro again and found him staring directly at her. She gulped. Those weren't the eyes of a man interested in another man. Nope. Those were the eyes of a man who was interested in her. Shit.
What am I going to do now? The disk jockey returned and started spinning records again. This time, he chose the American song...Michael Jackson's Smooth Criminal.
Young people immediately sprung to their feet and headed back to the dance floor. Harper grabbed her hand and rose. "Come on, let's show these kids a thing a two."
Masaaki moved aside so she could pass by him and, before she knew it she and Harper were on the dance floor dancing like they were two teens.
Dorothy and Jackson and the Asian authors joined them, leaving Riley and Masaaki alone at the table.
Harper was surprising light on his feet and knew the latest dance steps, but he was no match for the young Japanese once the disk jockey changed the music back to Japanese pop. Someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Shaundra looked up. It was Yori.
"I would like to dance with Ms. Morrison."
From the look on Harper's face, Shaundra deduced that Yori's bluntness surprised him. "Sure, if Ms. Morrison doesn't mind." "She doesn't," Yori answered for her. He stepped around Harper and took Shaundra's hand.
Harper looked at her and all she could do was shrug her shoulders.
Harper gave up and returned to the table.
"That was quite rude," Shaundra replied as the music changed to a slow number. Yori pulled her into his arms.
"What is rude? I just wanted to dance with you."
His English was not as limited as she thought.
He pressed her closer and her body molded into his. Her head rested comfortably against his chest. His earthy cologne tickled her nose and worked its way through her body like an aphrodisiac. "But I was already dancing with someone."
"He's your boss."
"So?"
"I'm not." He flawlessly dipped her and then pulled her back to him.
She heard clapping, but chose to ignore it. Then, several cameras flashed.
That, she could not ignore. She stiffened in Yori's arms.
"What is wrong?" he asked.
"Someone took a picture of us."
"So?"
"So? We can't be photographed together."
"Why not?"
"We just can't. It's not good for our careers."
"People take pictures of me every day," he said. "What's one more?"
He twirled her around and someone got a picture of that too.
Shaundra tried to look around him to see if she could spot the photographer. Damn, there were just too many people. Maybe Yori was accustomed to having his life in the news, but she wasn't. He escorted her back to the table once the song ended and then went back to his friends.
"You're one crazy dude," Satoshi said to Yori when he returned to their table. "Amaya is going to kick our ass for messing with Ms.
Morrison."
Yori sat down. "I am not missing with Ms. Morrison. I just like to dance with her. She is pretty good."
"That dress is smoking," Satoshi replied. "She's put together nicely."
"I hadn't noticed," Yori replied as he sampled his drink.
"Liar."
Takumijo watched him intently from across the table. "Of all the ladies in this club, why her? What's so special about her?"
"There's nothing special. She's a real good dancer and she's tall enough so I don't have to stoop over when we dance slowly."
"I think she's pretty," Ichiro announced.
Yori glanced over at him. This was a fine time for him to speak. "Yes, she's very pretty."
"And she has nice legs."
Yori looked back on the dance floor. Shaundra was dancing with the Asian writer, Hideohi Chiba to DBSK's Miortic and busting some very serious moves. Her "booty" bounced sensually beneath the black mini dress. His body stirred. The sight awoke all of his senses. A big behind was something most Asian women lacked.
"Hideohi is a real good dancer," Satoshi replied. "The two of them look good together on the dance floor."
Yori rolled his eyes at his friend. Satoshi had a way of prying, but not prying. How could he explain to them why he did the things he did with Shaundra Morrison when he did not understand why he did them? He had to remember that she was here on business and that she was older than he was, and that meant he should not be imagining what it would be like to kiss those full, brown lips.
A young woman approached the table and asked him to dance. Yori looked up at her. She was Korean, about twenty, with short brown hair and a pretty smile. She'd do. He rose and followed her. Miortic had ended and the disc jockey now played Mystery by B2ST. The young woman was a good dancer, but she lacked rhythm. His eyes wandered back toward the other table. Shaundra had returned and was busy pulling Masaaki to the dance floor. This was a first. Masaaki never danced when he accompanied them to a club, but here he was, moving around the floor with Shaundra and obviously knowing what he was doing.
The older woman, Dorothy, danced with Harper Kehoe while the other American men guarded the table.
Yori bowed to his partner after the song ended and returned to his friends. Satoshi and Takumijo were talking about lyrics to some song, but Ichiro continued to stare at the other table. "What's up, baby brother?"
Yori asked him.
"Nothing." Ichiro lowered his eyes as if embarrassed.
Yori turned his attention on the group of authors. Shaundra Morrison had her legs crossed and was revealing quite a bit of thigh. That answered his question. Ichiro was embarrassed because he was caught ogling the author's beautiful legs. No problem. At least that answered another question. Ichiro was definitely interested in women, and he had good taste.
"Aren't we supposed to be socializing with them?" Satoshi asked. "Or at least sitting with them?"
"Probably," Yori answered. He had entertained the idea when they first arrived, but not so much now that he knew that Shaundra was camera shy and that Ichiro was interested in her. He didn't want to make either of them uncomfortable. "But this seems to be working out fine for all of us.
We're close enough."
Satoshi rose.
"Where are you going?"
"To ask Ms. Morrison to dance."
"Why?" Takumijo asked.
"Because I feel like it." Satoshi strolled over to the other table.
Shaundra looked over toward them and then accepted.
Yori lowered his sunglasses, looked over at her, and then pushed the glasses up and pretended disinterest.
"Would you like to join us for dinner?" Masaaki asked everyone at the table once they'd given up dancing and were all nursing sore feet. He'd just returned after receiving a phone call.
Harper looked around to see if everyone was in agreement. Heads nodded up and down furiously.
"Good. I'm starved and my head hurts from the noise."
Shaundra found his bluntness comical.
Masaaki pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Tell the boys we are leaving for dinner." He hung up and rose, signaling to one of the guards. The guard leaned over and said something to Yori, who, in turn, told the other three. The four young men rose and walked around the dance floor until they arrived at the table with the authors. "We're all going out to dinner," Masaaki announced. He turned and everyone followed him out of the club.
"Where are we going?" Riley asked Harper as Masaaki began to walk.
"I have no idea. Since they're Japanese, I think it's safe to say that we're going to a Japanese restaurant."
The idea both delighted and frightened Shaundra. To eat authentic Japanese food would be fun and interesting. She just hoped she wasn't required to use chopsticks. She'd hate to waste anything on her dress.
Shaundra and Harper caught up with Masaaki. "Where are the limousines?" Harper asked.
"I sent them ahead to the restaurant parking lot. Too much traffic."
They stood on a busy sidewalk near the club and waited for the others to catch up. Bumper to bumper traffic passed on the street before them.
"So, how are we supposed to get there?" Harper asked.
"Walk," Masaaki answered him. "It's just three blocks away."
The announcement was met with several groans from the Americans.
Shaundra looked down at her heels. Had she known, she would have opted for different shoes.
"Shibuya is beautiful by night," Masaaki explained as they began walking again down Dogenzaka. They had enough people with them to be considered a tour group. The only problem they had was moving quickly amongst the hundreds of people out walking with them.
"What is this area called?" Jackson asked as he looked around like a kid.
"Center Gai," Masaaki explained. They walked through a narrow street, which had a Starbucks. "It is the birthplace of many fashion trends." They passed by a busy pedestrian zone lined with stores, boutiques, nightclubs and restaurants. He took them pass Tuntanna Silver Shop, a small cafe and a Sapporo ramen restaurant. "Over there is Shibuya Station," Masaaki continued to explain. He pointed. People exited it as he spoke.
Shaundra looked up. There were three huge televisions screens attached to the sides of three buildings. As if by magic, they all three began playing the same announcement simultaneously.
"Look, it's our commercial," Takumijo said to Yori and the others.
Everyone stopped and watched the promotion for Aomori's upcoming concerts at the Tokyo Dome. It featured a couple of clips from their previous concerts. Harper told them that they were all going to attend. She didn't like the idea at first, but the promotion had peaked her interest, especially when she'd seen Aomori in costume.
They started walking again once the commercial ended, stopping at a corner. Traffic came to a complete stop from every direction to allow for the massive crowd of walkers to cross the streets safely. This would never happen back home, she mused as she walked alongside Dorothy. Drivers weren't that courteous. She looked back. Aomori had stopped and were looking through a big glass window. They spoke to each other rapidly in Japanese.
"Arcade," Masaaki explained. "They're still just boys at heart."
Aomori rejoined them shortly. Yori ended up at her left with Satoshi at her right while the others sort of blended into the crowd. They passed another building. Shaundra stopped to look at it. There weren't any windows to the place, just a door. "What's this place?"
Several of the Asians laughed.
"What's so funny?" she asked as she walked around to inspect it.
Yori took her hand and led her away. "This is love hotel."
"Love hotel? Who would rent a room in a place with no windows?"
"Lovers," Yori explained.
Shaundra did not understand at first. "Oh!"
The Asians continued to laugh at her naivety.
"In the middle of a shopping district?"
"It's very discrete," Satoshi said, looking down at her and Yori's interlocked hands.
Shaundra pulled her hand away. "You mean it's for secret liaisons?"
"We have a lot of lonely single men in Japan."
There was no way Satoshi or any of Aomori had to visit a place like that. She couldn't imagine them lacking companionship.
"It's a very lucrative business," Masaaki explained. "It is operated solely for the purpose of allowing couples privacy to have sexual intercourse. It's windowless so no one can see in. There is minimal interaction with the staff, and the bills are paid through the use of pneumatic tubes or given to a pair of hands behind a pane of frosted glass."
She looked back, half expecting to see scantily clad prostitutes lurking about. They walked past another strip of shops with tiny cafes that served snacks and coffee, clothing shops and more video arcades before Masaaki turned the corner and stopped in front of a restaurant. There was also a long line of people waiting to go inside.
"Maybe we should have made reservations," Dorothy replied.
"Already taken care of," Masaaki answered. "Mr. Niigata has planned ahead." He walked away from them and to the front of the line to speak with the young woman at the door. He signaled for them to follow him in.
Shaundra expected some groans from the waiting crowd, but they didn't offer a peep.
Delicious aromas assaulted her nostrils as soon as she stepped into the waiting area. Masaaki spoke with the kimono dressed hostess who led them into the restaurant to a large room in the back. Shaundra was thankful to see chairs because she doubted that she could sit down on cushions in the mini dress without flashing everyone.
Each little area had a small hibachi grill place in front of them.
Surprisingly enough, the waitress positioned them in an odd seating arrangement with Yori at her right and Ichiro at her left. The impact of their colognes sent conflicting emotions through her body. Damn, what are they wearing? Usually, cologne and body sprays made her cough.
Thankfully, not this time, she mused as she crossed her legs at her ankles to ignore her raging hormones and dampening panties. This is so embarrassing.
"Is something wrong, Ms. Morrison?" Chirau Narita asked from across the table. "You look a bit flushed." Chirau was seated across the table from her between Satoshi and Riley and her cheeks were very rosy too.
Shaundra looked down shyly. "No, it's probably from the heat of the grill."
Chirau giggled. "Yes, I know exactly what you mean."
Shaundra rose. "Excuse me a minute. I need to use the little girl's room."
"I'll go with you," Dorothy replied, hopping up from her seat between Harper and Masaaki.
Dorothy was standing next to her before she could reply. They had to walk out of the room and back into the main dining room to access the ladies room. Shaundra pushed the door open slowly so she wouldn't knock anyone down. There were a couple of ladies standing before mirrors fixing their hair and makeup. Shaundra ducked into one stall while she heard Dorothy go into the one next to her. She really didn't have to go, but she needed to get some air and quiet the thoughts in her head. Her bladder complied to justify with Dorothy that she had to go. The next thing she knew, both she and Dorothy were standing at the sink washing their hands.
Dorothy dried her hands under the blow dryer. "He's cute," she replied.
"Who?"
"Ichiro."
"Oh, him. Well, I think the correct description is beautiful." She pressed the button on the dryer.
"Have you ever seen guys as handsome as those four?"
Shaundra rubbed her hands vigorously under the air to dry them. "No, I haven't. Where the hell were men like that when I was in my twenties?"
"These weren't born yet," Dorothy said into a girlish chuckle. "He likes you."
"Who?" Shaundra asked as she stepped over to the mirror to check her hair and makeup.
"Ichiro."
"Huh?"
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed the way he's been watching you."
"No, I haven't," she lied. "He's just a kid."
"So is Yori."
Ah hell, where is this conversation leading? "I'm flattered, but I didn't come all the way to Tokyo to get involved in some scandalous triangle with two Japanese pop stars."
Dorothy hugged herself and giggled with glee. "Wow, wouldn't that make one hell of a novel premise?"
"Probably." She finished with her hair, and washed and dried her hands again. "We'd better get back before they think we've fallen in or something," Shaundra said, changing the subject. She led the way to the door and Dorothy followed.
"Do you think I can get one of them interested in me? You know, if you're not in interested in dating either one."
"Sure. You're a pretty nice lady, but don't be disappointed if it doesn't happen. They have some pretty strange customs in some of these places where they can only date their own race, or worse, they have to stay pure until they're married."
"Yuck. What an antiquated, Victorian idea." They re-entered the dining area. The waiter had arrived with the food and there were several red-clad chefs preparing meat on the hibachis. Shaundra and Dorothy scooted back into their seats as the chef set the meat on plates and passed them around to the diners. The waiters returned with steamed rice and soups. Everything looked delicious.
"Ooh, what's that?" Shaundra asked.
"Yakimono," Ichiro answered. "Grilled fish." Mostly everyone stopped what they were doing when they heard him speak.
Shaundra looked over at him and smiled.
Ichiro shook his bangs back out of his eyes, revealing his adorable face and capturing her full attention. He began scooping some of the fish into a bowl and then he reached for Shaundra's set of chopsticks, opened them and began feeding her.
Shaundra chewed, never removing her stare from his. She swallowed.
"Thank you. It is very delicious."
Ichiro handed the chopsticks to her.
"I don't know how to use them."
"Let me show you."
Those were the most words she'd heard him say since she met him.
She pitied the world for not hearing his silky and mesmerizing voice. She bet there were a lot of wet panties in the audience when he performed.
Ichiro demonstrated how to use the chopsticks and then reached them back to her to try.
Shaundra lifted the chopsticks, noticing the stares she was receiving from around the table. She maneuvered the sticks between her fingers, ignoring the onlookers, picked up the meat between the two sticks and put it into her mouth without spilling.
"See, I knew you could do it," Ichiro replied with an impish smile.
Shaundra smiled back at him. "I can manage big things, but what about rice?"
Ichiro picked up his bowl to demonstrate. "The object is not to waste."
He put the bowl closer to his mouth.
Shaundra followed his movements up to his lips, checking out their fullness as he shoveled the rice into his mouth. Ichiro lowered the bowl, licking the rice residue from his bottom lip. That little movement nearly stole her breath away. "I feel so silly. I thought I had to pick up the rice with the sticks."
"Ichiro is a very good teacher," Yori said from her right. "And very talkative this evening."
"Ms. Morrison brings out the best in him," Masaaki replied from his seat as he speared a piece of roasted meat. "Maybe we should arrange for her to join him when he is composing music. I have a feeling she can be his muse."
Ichiro flushed pink at the collar and went silent. His hair covered most of his angelic face again.
"He's blushing," Jackson replied. "I like that."
Shaundra thought Jackson's statement embarrassed Ichiro even more.
"I think I'd like to watch him rehearse," Shaundra replied.
"That can be done," Masaaki said between chews. "They are rehearsing after the photo shoot tomorrow. I'll arrange for you to be there if the band doesn't have a problem with you watching them."
"I don't have a problem," Satoshi replied as he picked up his bowl of rice.
"Neither do I," Yori stated.
Takumijo did not answer. He just pretended indifference, an act she'd witnessed a lot that evening.
"Then it is settled," Masaaki replied.
"What about the rest of us?" Dorothy asked.
"Anyone who wants to come," Masaaki told her. "But you have to be very quiet and not get into their way. " "I promise."
Neither the men nor the Asian writers seemed enthusiastic about attending the rehearsal. Shaundra went back to her food acutely aware that a male knee touched her from both sides beneath the table. Heat radiated up through her body. She finished eating without much waste. The meal was followed up by a cup of hot tea. The evening ended once Masaaki settled the bill and called for the drivers.