“Coming!” He shouted from inside, and I sighed in relief. He opened the door and I darted past him to the warmth of the restaurant. “Sorry. I knew you’d be here soon, so I figured I’d get my cocktail mixers ready.”
He smiled at me, and my stomach turned over, noticing it was the same smile in all the photographs I looked at this afternoon.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and I snapped my lips back into a smile.
“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” This was the only lie I could tell honestly enough.
I followed him into the neat and clean kitchen, the stainless steel counters and floor shining and spotless.
“I have something for you,” he said, as he took my coat. A chill ran up my back without the extra warmth. At least had long-sleeves on. My eyes drank in him as he hung up my coat next to his chef’s coat. He wore jeans and a button-down shirt with a black sweater over it. Very European. I think I saw him wear something like this when he was with Amanda in Italy.
“Here you go.” He set my phone on the table in front of me, knocking me out of my visions of him proposing to Amanda and her squealing with delight. “It turns on even. You’re saved!”
“Oh, thank goodness,” I said, sweeping the phone up into my hands and pressing it to my chest. “I thought I was going to have to buy a new one, and I’m totally without funds right now.”
Yasahiro’s eyebrows pulled together. “Really? Not even to replace a phone?”
I laughed. “I don’t even have enough to pay for dinner. I have enough to buy two beers tonight, and that’s it.”
He frowned. “I’m buying tonight then.”
“No way,” I said, waving my hands in front of him. “I always pay my own way, which is why I stay home most of the time now actually.” I shrugged my shoulders as I powered my phone on and watched the screen light up. Relief filled me from my toes to my nose. This was the one thing I didn’t want to ask Mom for since she already paid all my bills. A few texts popped up from Kumi. Nothing urgent. She was just fishing for gossip or wondering what I was doing. I texted her back that my phone had died but lived once more, and that we should get together soon.
A loud ka-cha-ka-cha sound echoed in the room. I glanced up to find Yasahiro’s eyes on his phone, a drink recipe displayed on it, while he worked a metal cocktail shaker in the air. His forearms were tight, and my mouth went dry. I tried to imagine running my hands all over him, but instead, he pulled Amanda into a deep kiss. My heart ached like one of the kitchen knives next to the sink had been plunged straight into it.
Why? Oh, why had such a handsome man landed right in front of me, and then I googled him like an idiot?
That was okay, though. We weren’t dating, so it didn’t matter.
It was interesting what I told myself to make things better.
“Here’s a classic rum drink. A daiquiri. I think you’ll like it.” He poured for both of us, and I tried not to stand too close to him as I raised the martini glass and looked him in the eyes when we said, “Kampai.”
A jolt sparked through me, and I ended up gulping my first few pulls from the glass. The drink, both sweet and sour but not bitter, went down a little too easily. I loved citrus.
“Mmmm, delicious. I’m sure my face will be red in no time.” I pressed my cool hand to my cheek to keep the flush away as long as possible.
“I noticed that about you. I like it. It never happens to me.” My face blushed, and not due to alcohol. I sipped again. “So, what are we hoping to accomplish tonight?”
I paused with the drink in my hand, refreshing my brain to what we agreed upon yesterday. “We’re going to casually sit and have a few drinks and hope Tama shows up. If he does, I’m going to find some way of asking about Akiko and what he’s been telling the police. If he doesn’t show up?” I shrugged my shoulders, the drink perched in my right hand. “Well, then, we enjoy our beers and go home? Unfortunately, I can’t afford to do this kind of sleuthing every night, unless I was being paid to do it.” Hmmm, I wondered if I could parlay detective work into a career for me. Probably not. It required a lot more schooling, which I couldn’t afford.
“I see the wheels turning in your head.” Yasahiro sipped his drink as well. “Maybe you should concentrate on the painting. I bet you could sell them if you kept at it.”
“What’s with you and my painting?” This came out of my mouth more adversarial than I intended it to, so I tried to soften my question with a laugh. “Even my own mother doesn’t nag me this much about it.”
“I enjoy being creative and being around creative people. Being with creative people fuels my own need to create, to inspire.” He tilted his head to the side, his fingers rolling the stem of the martini glass back and forth. “I can tell you have an artist trapped beneath the surface, like fish under the ice during the winter.”
I took another swig of my drink and reached the cherry at the bottom. Oops. That went fast.
“Well, I, uh, do love to paint.” I forced the words from my throat like pushing through a crowded subway car to the wide-open platform during Tokyo rush hour. “And I want to do it more often, but I need to find a job so I’m not dirt poor. And I do mean dirt poor because I’m covered in dirt from working the fields every day.” I examined my fingernails, what was left of them, and they were clean, thankfully. “I should spend my spare time looking for work I can do.”
“And that’s the hard part?” he asked. I cringed because he’d only known me a week and he already understood that I had few actual skills.
“Yeah. Should we get going?” I pushed my empty glass across the stainless steel counter, and his hand came down on mine.
“Look, I’m not one to say I can read minds or anything…” He squeezed my hand and my heart beat faster. “But maybe you just don’t know what you want to do, not that you can’t do anything. I can see it on your face, in your eyes, that you doubt yourself. Don’t doubt. Listen to your heart.”
I tipped my face up so I could let him see those doubtful eyes. I doubted myself. I doubted him. I doubted life. I didn’t doubt that I was in major trouble when it came to this man.
“We should go.” I pulled my hand out from under his and headed for our coats. Handing him his, he swung it over his shoulders and buttoned up, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. I slipped into my coat and he handed me his scarf.
“Here. It’s cold out tonight.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled as I wrapped it around my neck up to my chin. I inhaled and got a strong scent of sandalwood. This must’ve been his scent, not that I’d ever been close enough to tell.
Outside, we approached a Toyota hatchback, and he powered it up with a remote start.
“Nice,” I said, nodding at the dark silver lines and hybrid logo on the back. “New?”
“Yeah, I bought it earlier this year.”
I smiled as I climbed into the passenger side and admired the interior. Yasahiro looked between me and the car.
“Do you want me to leave you two alone?” He laughed.
“Do you mind?” I purred and rubbed my hands over the dashboard. “It’s not an Audi or a Tesla, but I like a hybrid.”
“A car girl. I can be okay with that.” He nodded as he buckled in and pulled into the street. “What do you drive?”
“Me? Own a car?” I snorted laughing. “I drive my mom’s. She has a Toyota too, though it’s about ten years old at this point. I parked it in the municipal lot so I can run tomorrow morning and come get it.”
“Right. I suppose you didn’t have much need for one living in the city.”
My teeth began to chatter as we waited for the heat to come on. Didn’t matter though because we weren’t far from the izakaya. I’m not sure why we drove anyway.
“No. No need. I took the subway everywhere.”
“If you could have a car, what would you own?” We passed Izakaya Jūshi and my head turned to watch it go. “Oh, I live up here one more block. I’m going to park my car at home and we’ll
walk.”
“No wonder you go there often. If I could have anything, I’d just make sure it was a V6. I like a big engine.”
Yasahiro raised his eyebrows at me as he pulled into a tiny parking spot next to a two-story building. I guessed that last statement was incredibly dirty if you added “that’s what she said.”
Out on the sidewalk, he pointed up at the second floor of the building. “That floor with the lights on? That’s mine.”
I tripped on a crack in the pavement as I took in the size of his place. “Wow. The whole floor?”
“Yeah. I own the whole building but I live on the second floor. It used to be a warehouse, for the retail space below. I had it renovated at the same time as the restaurant. Got the space for a bargain because it had been empty for ten years.”
His hand on my elbow directed me away from his place and towards the izakaya. “I can’t even imagine having all that space to myself. My apartment in the city was a shoebox.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Please, Yasahiro-san, my shower and toilet were next to the kitchen, practically in the kitchen. I didn’t even have a genkan. The door hit my bed when you opened it.”
He winced. “Ouch. Yeah. That’s pretty small. And all my friends call me Yasa-kun.” He smiled at the ground instead of at me.
“Are we friends?” I asked, glad we were out in the cold because it kept me from blushing.
“I’d like that,” he responded, opening the door for me.
“Me too.” Hopefully ‘friends’ will get us past the rough spots I saw coming in the next hours or days.
Inside, Izakaya Jūshi was smoky from both the grill and people lighting cigarettes, visibility down to a meter or two, tops.
I waved in front of my face. “Hey, is your restaurant smoke free?”
“Yep,” he said, nodding and ushering me to the end of an open table. “I can’t stand too much smoke. Paris was awful that way. So I decided when I opened my own place, I’d make it smoke free. I thought I might lose business, but it didn’t make a difference. And that’s why I only come here twice a week now.” We sat down across from each other. “I like it here, though. It reminds me of a place we went to all the time in Chichibu.”
He gestured to a young woman filling beers at the bar, and she smiled and waved. This must have been Kumi’s friend.
“So, whatever made you want to move here? To tiny Chikata?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “After Paris, I wanted a small town experience. When I heard about all the developments here, I figured it would be a good place to settle down.”
I thought back on what I read earlier about him. He broke off his engagement with Amanda when she wouldn’t move to Tokyo, but he saw her six months ago in Hong Kong.
“Besides, I get to travel a few times per year for work, so it’s comforting to have some place small and stable to come back to.”
“Yasahiro-san! It’s good to see you. How’s business?” Kumi’s friend interrupted us and I sat back to look at her. She seemed familiar.
“Mei-san? Hi! Wow, I haven’t seen you in years. Kumi said you were back in town. How are you?” She was a bubble of happiness, the perfect person to work at an izakaya. Her name popped into my head.
“Etsuko-san, you were in the same year as Kumi-san at school, right?”
“Yes I was! Thank you for remembering,” she said, bowing to me. She was always a polite girl. “I work here with my brother and parents.” She waved to the grill where a young man helped an older man flip chicken over the coals. They must have been father and son, the resemblance was so striking. “Let me get you both something to drink and then I’ll come back for more of a chat.”
“Beer,” both Yasahiro and I said at the same time. We all laughed at the synchronicity.
“She’s super nice. If she didn’t work here, I’d ask her to come work for me,” he said, as she walked away.
“How old are you?” I asked him, unable to pin his age properly. Sometimes he seemed so young, but I knew he wasn’t. With a five year relationship and an almost marriage under his belt, he might be in his thirties.
He laughed, running his hand through his hair. “Twenty-nine. I’ll be thirty next September. You?”
“Twenty-six. I’ll be twenty-seven next July. You’ve achieved quite a lot for not even thirty years old yet. I’m impressed.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, brushing off my compliment.
“No. It’s definitely something. Be proud.”
Two large mugs of beer hit the table and Etsuko sat down next to us. “Please,” she said, waving to our drinks. Yasahiro and I clicked mugs and toasted before sipping. “So, Mei-san, I remember you being good friends with Akiko-san…”
Perfect. I had a feeling I wouldn’t have to make any weird initial conversations.
“I still am.”
“Is everything okay with her?” She placed her hand on my arm and squeezed. Yasahiro hid a smile behind his mug. “I’ve heard crazy things.”
“Definitely don’t believe everything you hear. She’s fine. She’s upset about her dad, but that’s about it.”
Etsuko glanced around. “I’ve heard she’s at the police station, in custody.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not in custody. She’s helping them out. You heard her father was murdered, right?” I kept my voice as low as possible in the crowded room. Etsuko nodded. “They’ve been looking for evidence, and she’s trying to help them out.”
“I see, I see…” Etsuko's voice drifted off. “I don’t suppose Tama-san’s been helping out has he?”
Yasahiro and I made quick eye contact. “Not that I know of. Why?”
“Oh, he’s just never around anymore, you know?”
“I didn’t know.” My scalp prickled. There was so much I thought I knew about Tama, but I may have known nothing at all. “I thought he was still teaching at the high school.”
“He is,” Etsuko said, leaning towards us. “But he’s been visiting Chiba a lot lately on the weekends. He knows a man who owns a craft beer distributor there. They became friends last year — met right here at the bar. So I can’t imagine he’s been much help to his poor father and sister.”
“I guess not.”
This new friendship probably explained why Tama was suddenly a drinker, when he didn’t used to be.
“This is their beer!” She gestured to the mug, and I picked it up and held it up to peer through it. The wheat beer was light and mellow, nothing too strong.
“I like it a lot.” Yasahiro shrugged his shoulders as he took a gulp. I drank a few gulps all at once, too. I loved beer. “I was thinking about carrying it in the restaurant.”
“You should,” Etsuko said, standing up. “They have steep discounts. Mei-san, I’m so glad to hear Akiko-san is okay. I’ve asked Tama-san, and he just brushed me off. I was worried. Hey, let’s hang out together sometime soon! My boyfriend, Hisashi, will be in town next week. He and Yasahiro are friends so they can talk baseball while you and I drink.”
“Sounds great,” I replied, excited about meeting new friends.
She headed to the bar, and I drummed my fingers on the table. Yasahiro leaned back and folded his arms over his chest.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked.
“Maybe. Are you thinking Tama-san has some involvement in this brewery?”
He nodded, turning to the door as it opened, and in walked the man himself. Tama sidled in, made eye contact with Etsuko and her brother at the bar, and sat in an open seat. He never even looked my way.
I wondered if I should go greet him when Etsuko gestured in our direction, obviously trying to inform him that we were there. He turned around, saw me, and his face, which I expected to break into a smile, instead stayed stone cold. I rubbed my suddenly frozen hands together.
“Should we leave, Mei-chan? You look pale.” Yasahiro asked as Tama approached.
“Look at the two of you, out on a
date?” Tama smiled but his eyes were frosty.
“Nope,” I said, sipping my beer. Yasahiro sipped his as well, keeping his eyes on me over the lip of his mug. “Just having a drink together. How are you, Tama? I haven’t seen you since the funeral.” I purposely left off any honorifics from his name, just to make him squirm. I know you, Tama. I know you better than you think I do.
“May I?” He gestured to the seat next to Yasahiro and sat at the same time, not waiting for an affirmative answer. “I’ve been good. And you?”
“I’ve been fine, thanks. Mom’s good. The farm is good. Yasahiro-san and I have been eating lunch together during the week. Things are great.” I smiled at him, convincing him I had no other motives other than to point out my happiness. “I had drinks with Daichi Senahara last night and we were talking about your dad. He said your dad was sick for a long time.” I sipped on my beer, trying to be casual. “Do you know what was wrong with him?”
“Haven’t got a clue.” He shook his head side to side but didn’t make eye contact with me. The lie detector in my brain pinged. “Old men get sick, and then they get better. What can you do?”
“I suppose so. Anyway, what have you been up to?”
Yasahiro stayed quiet while I questioned Tama.
“Been busy with work and seeing Haruka-chan. I’m trying to stay positive, and I’m doing a better job of that than Akiko-chan.” He paused to gauge my reaction. “She’s been so down since Dad’s death. I’ve been worried about her mental state.”
“Is that so? Maybe you shouldn’t fight with her over the land then. I’m sure most of her worries have to do with not having a home in the months ahead.”
Tama’s shoulders tightened. I’d hit a nerve. I chugged some more of my beer for courage, though between Yasahiro’s cocktail, this beer, and the fact that dinner was four hours ago, I edged on dangerous truth-telling territory.
“She’ll have to earn her way in the world, like the rest of us, I suppose. Midori Sankaku is prepared to give me a fair amount for the property. I think I’ll be selling.” He rose from his seat, probably hoping to have the last word.
The Daydreamer Detective Page 17
