Ronin looked shocked by that . . . and not the least bit contrite.
“Yes, I knew about your appointment, and I waited for you to talk to me. I gave you many opportunities, and you didn’t take a single one. So much for me being an important part of your recovery process. So much for us maintaining open communications about everything. You shut me out again.”
He crowded her. “Is this about payback? I didn’t tell you one little thing that happened in my life, so you use that as an excuse to hide a big goddamn secret from me?”
“First of all, your health isn’t one little thing. Second of all, how can you even say that to me? I’m not like that.”
“I didn’t think you’d keep something this f**king important from me either. Since we decided—together—to try to make this work, I have laid myself open for you. You know things about me that no one else does. Not only in our intimate relationship, but in my business relationships. What I’ve done for TP and Max? Very privileged information. It’s a testament to how much I trust you that Max spoke so freely in front of you tonight.”
Shit.
“I’m not surprised Okada chose your designs, because you have the talent and drive to get to the next level. But since this is my family in the mix, and I know what my family is capable of far better than you, you need to understand that I don’t trust it. I don’t want you to be beholden to them.”
“Excuse me, but you’re the one who suggested my company for the project in the first place. After all the bullshit that went down between us, I put it out of my mind. So it’s a huge ego boost that Shiori didn’t toss the designs in the garbage. She passed them on to the appropriate people in the company, and those designs stood on their own merit. That is completely different from you throwing your girlfriend a bone because you’re feeling sorry for her and you had the means to contribute to her self-worth.”
“Did you ever consider that I’d like to be a part of celebrating your achievements? Since you’re helping me celebrate mine tonight?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You are the reason I asked ABC Brazilian jujitsu to become part of Black Arts. You suggested I needed to think outside of my little dojo box and I did. I value your opinion. But I see now that you don’t value mine.”
Her eyes searched his. “Ronin. That’s not even remotely close to true.”
“You’re always asking me to share my feelings? Well, here it is. I’m pissed off at you. I don’t even rate the courtesy of you telling me that you’re working for my family’s company. I’m pissed off that you were concerned enough about my health to snoop around for answers but not ask me directly. I’m pissed off that you’ve been goddamn hedging about moving in with me. I’m pissed off you still haven’t told me that you love me even when we both f**king know you do. This has become a one-sided f**king relationship, and you know it.”
Dammit. Don’t cry. He’s right, and your tears will just aggravate him further and come across as manipulative.
“So either accept that I want a long-term, open and honest intimate relationship with you on every level, or don’t. Your choice.”
For the first time ever, Ronin walked away from her.
And not for the first time, she slunk away, embarrassed by her behavior.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TWO f**king days since Ronin had heard from Amery.
Two. Fucking. Days.
Since he’d left it up to her to contact him, it’d been torture not storming over to her place. Not calling her. Not tracking her down in a parking garage and doing a hojojutsu capture on her for real.
He’d spent all day Saturday with Blue, Knox, and Gil, hashing out revised class schedules. They’d gone over the receipts from the night’s event. Charted what worked and what hadn’t. Devised a strategy for the next event in six short weeks.
That’s when his train of thought jumped the track, wondering if that much time would pass again before Amery approached him.
Maybe you won’t hear from her again. Maybe she got what she wanted—a lucrative contract with Okada—and she doesn’t need you anymore.
His logical side tried to stamp down the ridiculousness, but a small niggling fear remained.
Sunday he worked out—swimming, weights, hand work, foot work, cardio on the treadmill—until Shiori arrived late in the afternoon. As the highest belt rank in the dojo, her continued training fell on his shoulders. She was a tireless pupil, and they spent two hours working on what she called drills, skills, and thrills.
Then, at Shiori’s request, they’d gone over the DVD of her match, dissecting the high points and the mistakes. Although she’d insisted the only reason she fought was to keep the fight card full¸ Ronin understood that she had the same need he did to physically prove herself. She admitted that she and Sophia had discussed starting a women’s MMA basics class, just to see if it garnered interest. When he questioned if her time in the dojo was interfering with her position at Okada, she changed the subject. He assumed any questions about Amery’s project with the company would elicit the same response, so he didn’t bother to ask.
Ronin had been tempted to invite Shiori to his penthouse for dinner, but he decided it would be awkward if Amery showed up.
Wishful thinking on his part, as it’d turned out.
A shower and an hour of meditation centered him.
Still, he’d slept poorly, so Monday started off on a bad note. Katie’s constant chattering got on his nerves, and he passed her off to Blue.