Myra’s Big Mistake – Chapter 5

I would rather be at home, in bed and asleep, than walking into the casino. It’s now four in the morning, and people are in here gambling. Slot machines blink and click. The pachinko parlor is a mess of metal balls crashing into each other. The card tables are sparsely occupied, one or two dealers handling a few gamblers who are half awake with dark circles under their eyes.

My father hates this place, but I have to admit that it doesn’t bother me. There are a million other things people could spend their money on that bother me more.

Glancing behind me, I can’t spot Mochi. He must be a ways back. I hope he’s okay.

Sigh. I know what’s coming next, and my gut churns, wondering how I’ll handle it.

As we approach the back offices, I stifle a yawn. The man in charge of my capture glances at me. “Sorry. Long shift.”

Then I roll my eyes at myself. If anyone knows anything about long shifts, it’s casino workers.

The door to the office opens, and Nosuké smiles at me. He’s no longer wearing a suit jacket, and his shirt looks about three hours past its prime. He’s rolled his sleeves up, revealing muscular forearms. He always liked to work out.

“Thank you, Tobito,” he says, gesturing to the man who brought me. “You can go home now.”

“Thank you, sir.” Tobito bows, but before he leaves, Nosuké stops him.

“Where are the others?”

“Long story, boss.”

I direct my eyes at the ground and push the smile from my lips. That guy is going to smell for days.

“Come in, Myra.” Nosuké gestures to his office. I hesitate and peer in.

The office seems innocuous enough. A desk occupies the center of the room, and monitors on the wall show the casino from several angles. A raccoon is curled on the sofa off to the side, snoozing away. I wish Mochi was here.

I point to the raccoon as I enter. “Is this who Mochi was wrestling with yesterday?”

Nosuké smiles as he shuts the door. “Yes, this is Ringo. Mochi’s yours? The skunk?”

“Yeah,” I say, looking at my feet. “It’s a new thing. Less than a year.”

“Congrats are in order, then.”

He gestures to the table, so I sigh, dump my bag in a chair, and sink into the chair across from him. Two cups of steaming coffee sit on a tray next to a plate of buttery biscuits with a glass carafe of water and glasses.

“I remember you weren’t paired when Ruby and I were dating.”

“Neither were you.”

“Yes, you’re right. Ringo and I met not long after. Coffee? I have several more hours of work before I rest.” He sits and dumps two spoonfuls of sugar and a generous helping of cream into a cup.

“No thanks.” I lift my hand to stop a yawn. Nosuké’s eyebrows draw together. “Sorry. I’m exhausted. I should be in bed, but instead, I’m here.” My eyes water as I hold back another yawn. Once I start, I can’t stop. “And I can guess why I’m here, but I think you should tell me.”

His lips twist, though his eyes are smiling.

I try to clasp my hands, but pain shoots from my scraped palms. Reaching down, I pull my pant leg up to cover my busted knee. Nosuké glances down, but I shift my legs farther under the table.

He nods as he pours me a glass of water. “Sorry about the late hour. I was ill-informed about your schedule. I was told you leave work around one.”

I swallow and wonder where he’s getting his information about me… And why he’s getting it at all.

“I used to. But now I work more hours.” I clear my throat. “I don’t mean to be rude —”

“Then don’t be rude,” he says, a wry smile stretching across his face.

I press my lips together and consider sprinting for the door.

Nosuké laughs and sits back with his coffee. “I’m joking. Sorry. Please, be frank. Too many people are boot-licking sycophants. I’ve always admired your candor.”

My mouth dries, looking at this powerful man across the table from me. I had always wondered how he and Ruby even met or got along. He was a gentleman to her — kind and thoughtful — and I never had any suspicion that there was something else at play with their relationship. They just seemed so ill-matched. Nosuké is wealthy, his father is fucking Noburo Maeda, one of the most powerful clan leaders on the planet, and Ruby is just a girl from the middle class.

“This has something to do with my father?”

I would love to hear that no, it does not, but he wants to see me, date me. That he was flirting with me at the festival, and he wants to continue. My imagination runs wild with scenarios for two-point-two seconds before he answers.

“Yes, it does. I spoke with the empress earlier today.”

I sigh and drop my head. Oh, how I wish I had called in sick today.

“She said your father is worried about the people who end up in debt or become addicted to gambling. That he feels another casino is unnecessary.”

I sit quietly for a moment while he looks at me over the lip of his cup… Waiting, waiting, waiting.

“Do you have any thoughts about this?”

“None whatsoever. You should ask my dad.”

“I’ve tried. He won’t take my calls.”

“So you waylay his daughter instead?”

“There are so many of you to choose from,” he says, opening his arms wide. “Yet, I chose you to talk to.”

‘Why?’ is on the tip of my tongue, but I hold it back. I already know the answer.

“You’re probably asking yourself why at this very moment, so I’ll let you in on my secret. Your sister, Suri, was a good bet, but her relationship with your father is strained. Tilli is too much of a free spirit to care about my predicament, even though your father adores her, and Winta is just eighteen. Too young to make a good argument with your father. The rest…?”

“Also, too young,” I fill in, nodding. “My brother?”

Nosuké is quiet. Shit. What does he have on my brother? I admit I know very little about what Ean does out of the home life.

I plow on. “Look, I’m a lifelong screw-up. I am not a good choice for this. My relationship with my father is just barely fine. He thinks I’m a failure.”

He frowns. “You’re not a failure.”

I shrug. “I am to him. He’s embarrassed I failed the I.A. exams and that I’m a lowly cook at an izakaya. Hell, I paired with a skunk, and Dad hates nocturnals. I can’t even tell him. He doesn’t know that Mochi exists.”

“Ah. I see.” He finishes his coffee and sets the cup down. “Well, when it comes down to it, I know you, Myra. I like you. And I think you’re the perfect person to help me with this.”

Did he just say he likes me?

I huff out a tired laugh, angry with myself for my delusional thoughts. “You know zero about me. You dated my friend, for what? Almost a year, a few years ago? That does not constitute ‘knowing’ me.”

His eyes shift to the table and the blood spots there.

“Shit.” I lift my hands and look at my bloody palms.

He stands up quickly. “I thought I saw blood, but I wasn’t sure. Stay here.”

He strides across the room to an ensuite bathroom.

“I can go home and take care of this,” I call out, leaning over to see him in the bathroom, pulling a first aid kit from the cabinet.

Scratching at the office door distracts me from watching Nosuké roll up his sleeves even further. Why am I not surprised to see the beginnings of a tattooed sleeve?

Ringo’s head pops up, and he jumps from the couch, crosses the room, and opens the door. I laugh to see his little hands manipulate something meant for humans.

“Myra!” Mochi’s voice is relieved. “You’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” I reach out a hand to him, and he rubs his head under my fingers. “Just tired and ready to go home,” I stress as Nosuké lays the first aid kit on the table.

“I would never let anyone leave my office in this state.” He holds out his hand for mine, so I sigh and give it up. He sets my hand on the table, palm up. “How did this happen?”

“Your men scared the crap out of me behind Izakaya Tanaka. I fell running away from them.”

He keeps his eyes on my hand as he adds antiseptic to a cotton square and dabs it on my cut. I flinch. “Sorry. And sorry about my guys. I told them not to startle you.”

I blush as I look away. “You used to call me a scaredy-cat. Remember that?”

Okay, perhaps my statement that he doesn’t know me is false. He does, and I just don’t like to admit it. We used to spend many nights sitting around drinking and talking.

He rips open a bandage. “I do remember. Not my finest hour.” He places the bandage on my palm and looks up at me. “I often get a little too loose-lipped when I drink. Will you forgive me?”

I sigh and say nothing. Why would he even want my forgiveness? And as for loose-lipped, he used to make out with Ruby when he got drunk. I wonder if he remembers that, too. I certainly do. It was always my cue to go home.

“There.” He leans back from me, proud of his work. Then his eyes land on the ripped knee and blood on my jeans. “This too?” He points to it.

“Yeah, same situation. Look…” I try to get to my feet, but he stops me with an upraised hand. “I’ll take care of it at home,” I insist.

Mochi leaps up to the table. “Let him help you. We’ll get home soon.”

“Fine.” I sink down into the chair and wave Nosuké’s hand away. “Let me do it.”

He hands me the antiseptic and cotton square. I clean the cut myself and bandage it up. “There. All better.” I leave the first aid waste on the table and stand. “And no, I will not help you with my father. You’ll need to figure him out for yourself.”

“I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” He stands up to face me, and though I’m not sure I trust him, I detect sincerity in his eyes.

Okay, this intrigues me. It’s a very rare occasion when someone is willing to buy me off. I’ve always been the one hoping for favors when I couldn’t make the cut, but it never happened to me.

“How?”

“You’ll have to say ‘yes’ first.” His returning smile is devilish, and a chill runs up my back. “But there’s very little I can’t do for you.”

I bet.

His smile doesn’t quit. “Don’t say no yet.”

“Fine. Can I go to bed first?”

He laughs as he opens the door.

“Don’t take too long with your decision.”