Myra’s Big Mistake – Chapter 8

I hope no one sees me here tonight because they’re going to blab to my father if they do. What I wouldn’t give for some anonymity as I pull open the door to the casino.

I got dressed for this outing alone, with only Mochi to give me fashion advice. Let’s just say that skunks do not have the best taste in dresses, though I picked a black dress Mochi seemed to like a lot. It shouldn’t be a surprise. He is black and white, after all. Ruby is at work this evening, trying to get Aki to go out on a date with her. I’m glad because I couldn’t admit to her I was coming here tonight.

“You look nice, Myra,” Mochi says, trotting by my side. I keep my chin up as people dodge away from Mochi.

What I find funny is that other animals do not shun him. We walk past plenty of other creatures with their paired people and not one of them flinches or cares. Dogs, cats, foxes, squirrels, birds — no one pays Mochi any mind. And you would think the casino would be a mess with these animals, yet it’s not. Our paired animals are smart enough to do their business outside or in the bathrooms.

“Thanks. I’m not sure if you’ll be allowed in the dining room.”

“Of course. I plan to go find Ringo. He’ll know all the best places to hide.”

Raccoons and skunks, creatures of the night. Well, at least Nosuké and I have that in common. I doubt there’s anything else he would have in common with a loser like me.

I sigh as I approach Kisetsu. This place is not rich and flashy. It’s the picture of understated elegance. The dark wood slatted front is softly lit, and the name Kisetsu, meaning ‘season’ in Japanese, is stamped into a metal plate to the left of the door. Pretty much everyone in my graduating class at culinary school wanted to work here, and as far as I know, none of them passed muster with the head chef. It is the place to be, both as a guest and an employee.

“Myra? Stop,” Mochi pleads, so I release the door handle before opening it. I squat down next to him. “Remember who you are tonight.” He lifts onto his back legs and puts his front paws on my knees. “You are Myra Kimura. You are kind and thoughtful. Dedicated and loyal.”

My heart melts hearing this from my best pal. I place my hand on his head and stroke down his back. I love his fluffy tail and stripes.

“Don’t listen to people who try to tell you to be someone you’re not.”

“Thanks, Motch.” I clear my throat from the lump that’s formed there. “I won’t be too late. This will be over quickly.

“Whatever happens, I’ll be here.”

“I don’t deserve you.” My heart aches to think of my life before Mochi. He has brought me so much companionship and joy over the last year. I’m blessed to have met him. I wish others would give him a break.

I stand up and watch him trot off, his tail held high, and people scrambling to get out of the way. He’s mine, everyone! Hands off.

I adjust my dress and make sure everything is where it should be. My shoes are the only heels I own, in black, of course. When they’re your lone pair of heels, they have to match everything. And without a mirror, I can only hope and pray that my hair is behaving. Usually, it’s pulled up and away from my face for work because I don’t have straight hair, nor do I have curly hair. My hair lives in this no-man’s-land somewhere in between the two. Please, please, please, let it behave tonight.

Walking in the door, I’m immediately recognized by the head waiter and whisked off to the restaurant’s semi-private dining area at the back. Seems fitting to me. Nosuké is already sitting and sipping on a cocktail. He is devastatingly handsome, and I’m questioning my sanity again because I am inadequate trash compared to him. This is going to be an interesting evening.

“Myra.” His smile is warm and inviting, and he stands up as I approach the table. “I hope you didn’t have any problems finding the place.”

I bark a laugh and regret it as the nearest table’s occupants turn to stare at us. They are a good five meters away, but it’s not far enough. My awkward behavior has caught every eye in the place.

“Sorry,” I say, bringing my hand to my mouth, “but everyone who is anyone knows where Kisetsu is.”

“Of course.” His lips quirk in a small smile. He looks around my feet. “Where is your companion?”

“Mochi?” I hesitate as the head waiter pulls out my chair for me. “I wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed in the dining room, so he’s out and about. It’s such a common problem for us. We’re used to it.” I sit down and set my purse on the empty chair to my right. Someone set the table beautifully with a small, thin glass vase containing a twig of sakura cherry tree flowers.

Nosuké’s expression is cold and hard. Uh oh. We’re already off on the wrong foot. “He is always welcome here or anywhere in my businesses. Ringo?”

Ringo appears at his feet. I lean over and see that the restaurant’s staff laid out a plate of food for him and another for Mochi behind Nosuké. My mouth is suddenly dry.

“Go find Mochi and welcome him to come back here for dinner.”

Ringo squeaks before heading off. I’m sure as the boss’s pair, he gets plenty of leeway. I can only hope Mochi is not too far away.

“Sorry. I didn’t know,” I say, my voice hidden away.

Nosuké sits down and crosses his legs as he picks up his drink. His face is still unhappy. “How could you not know? Did I ever turn away someone’s pair when Ruby and I were together? You came out with us on many occasions.”

“I…” My face bursts with a blush, and my throat closes up. He’s correct. Never once was anyone’s pair ever turned away on the nights we all spent together. One woman always brought her horse. A horse! Nosuké gave the horse a place in his stables and fresh food every time.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… He’s a skunk, you know. You saw the little boy the other day. That’s how we get treated everywhere.” Looking at his serious eyes, I sigh. “I didn’t want to ruin the evening, and somehow, I already have.” I close my eyes. “I’m such an idiot.” I lean forward to grab my purse. “I’ll go. I’m sorry for offending you.”

“No, no.” He snaps out of his mood quickly. His hands jerk out and stop me in my tracks. “No, don’t go. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with” — he waves his hand in the air — “society, life. We would get the same treatment if I weren’t one of the wealthiest people on the planet.”

I slowly sit back down. “Well, aren’t you lucky then. Sorry. Again.”

He cracks a smile. “Indeed I am. You’re here. Would you like a drink?”

It’s hard to find my voice. “Sure. Whatever’s good.”

He raises a hand, and a waitstaff member is at our table in a blink. He orders me something and a bottle of saké to go with the food. I fidget with my dress, my hair, and my feet before settling down.

“Thank you for coming tonight. I know I didn’t give you much of a choice, asking you in front of your boss and the empress.” He smiles, but the admission to his own cunning invitation makes me boil with anger.

“You did not, no.” I clasp my hands in my lap to stop from playing with my hair. “I had to say yes.” I lift my chin. “I’m hoping that we can get things settled tonight, so we don’t have to do this again. I hate putting my boss and friends in difficult positions.”

“Boss and friends? Are you talking about Ruby?” He leans forward as my drink arrives at the table. I’m not sure what it is, but a quick sniff tells me it’s citrus-based, and that’s always fine with me. “You two have been best friends for ages.”

I sip and set the glass aside, relaxing a little despite the conversation topic. “Yes, since we were kids. And also yes. She was with me when I received the flowers and wagashi. She, um…” I stall to a halt as I glance across the table at him. Ruby would not be happy to overhear this conversation, so I keep it brief. “She mentioned you had never sent her flowers, and it seemed to spark some regret in her. She barely talked to me after.”

Nosuké frowns, but I clear my throat and move on.

“But that’s okay because we’ll have dinner here, and you’ll get whatever information you need out of me, and we won’t see each other again after this.” I swallow more of my drink as Nosuké remains quiet on the other side of the table.

We’re both silent for a long moment, him staring off into the space behind me. It was his idea to come here tonight, but he seems unhappy. I must be doing something wrong.

Several people show up at the table and snap us out of our heads. Nosuké sits back so the staff can set our plates in front of us at the same time. My mouth waters as the dish’s acidic aroma wafts up to my nose. Mmmm, homemade pickled daikon, carrots, and seaweed. These will go great with the saké, the perfect starter.

This is why people come to Kisetsu for the beautiful and delicious meals, served kaiseki style in many courses. It’s spring, which means there will be a lot of young vegetables and greenery on the table. The fish course is bound to be something abundant in the waters here at this time of year — seerfish, clams, or mackerel, possibly.

What I wouldn’t give to cook this kind of food. I love all the tiny details.

I pick up my chopsticks and pop a pickled daikon in my mouth as I turn the black and red lacquerware around, watching the mother-of-pearl inlays catch the light.

“Mmmm, pretty,” I mumble around my mouthful before bringing my fingers to my lips to hide my mouth.

“You like food.” Nosuké relaxes with a smile. He leans across the table to fill up my saké cup. I haven’t even finished my cocktail yet, and we’re onto the saké and the first course. Good. This will all go by quickly.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s apparent to just about everyone.”

Nosuké’s smile fades.

“Here. Let me pour for you.” I beckon him to hand over the carafe. I fill up his cup, and we lift our cups to toast. I drain half of it in one mouthful.

“I’m sorry about my father.” Nosuké sips his saké. “He’s gotten way too brash and, well, annoying in his old age.”

I wave him off. “Please. It’s not as if I don’t hear that kind of thing all the time. Most people remark on my weight or looks within a few moments of meeting me, especially if they know my family.” I raise my eyebrows at him knowingly. Everyone knows the Kimura sisters with their accomplished school careers, bright smiles, and stunning good looks. Except for me. It’s like Mom slept with the gardener or something.

Nosuké is quiet again, and it puzzles me. When he dated Ruby, he was always talkative and lively. He wasn’t the life of the party or anything, but he certainly knew what he wanted and how to get it. But then there were downtimes too. I remember sitting next to him at a bar in the casino. We talked about the local soccer teams and our favorite places to get pizza.

“I don’t think I like hearing you talk about yourself this way,” he replies before popping a pickle in his mouth.

I blink a few times and pull back. “I, uh… Hm.” How do I respond to that?

“You were never disparaging to yourself before.”

I shrug. “It’s been a few years, and things change.” I clear my throat as I concentrate on my plate. “Unfortunately, it only got worse once I paired with Mochi. Friends stopped calling, except Ruby. They didn’t invite me out for drinks anymore. I spent more time indoors, cooking and testing recipes.” I shrug again. “It’s the way of things.”

“I see,” he says with a nod. “Still, I don’t think I like it very much. Maybe you should give yourself a break.”

I huff a laugh. “Why do you care?”

“I just do.” He makes eye contact with me, and a wash of tingles falls down my back. If Ruby saw him looking at me like this, she’d whip out a knife and stab me.

I clear my throat as the first course is removed and replaced with a plate of seasonal sushi.

“You don’t know this, but I’ve followed your career for a few years.”

My chopsticks slip in my fingers. One shoots from my hand and rolls across the table to the floor. I’m sorry. What did he say?

Someone immediately replaces my chopsticks.

“I was glad to see you left that hole-in-the-wall egg shop for Izakaya Tanaka. Izakaya Tanaka is one of the better places to eat in the eastern part of town.” He pops his sushi in his mouth. I cannot eat. “Did you know it’s been there since planetfall?”

I shake my head, unsure if I should open my mouth and break his train of thought.

“Well, actually, the first Izakaya Tanaka burned down, but Miko has had that place ever since. I used to go there a lot with my father when I was younger. Anyway,” he says, dipping his sushi into soy sauce, “I was glad you were there. Miko is a fair boss. I have a question for you, though.”

He pauses to see if I’m following along. I’m frozen, and all I can do is make a gesture with my hand for him to continue.

“Why didn’t you go into pastries? I thought they were your first love.”

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Myra, do not have a panic attack.

“I, uh, how…” I stop and look around, but the restaurant seems the same as when I entered. “Am I being pranked right now?”

“No,” he says simply. “The bakeshop over on Third, run by Mrs. Martin?”

My stomach sinks. “Yes. I, uh…” I pause and swallow. Maybe this night will zip by if I’m brutally honest with him. He’ll realize I’m a loser and the dinner will be over. “She put me through an audition process, and I blew it. I baked cakes and cookies for days, but nothing ever met with her approval.” She was so disappointed in me, and it was plain on her face with every bite she took.

“I’ve owned that place for over ten years, but no one really knows that. I let Miranda run her store the way she wants to — hands-off — which is why I couldn’t advocate for you. I thought your baked good were superior, but Miranda was adamant. I was upset when she passed you up for the other girl. What was her name?”

“Naomi.” I remember her well. She was so much better than me at everything. It was hard to ignore her and her talent. Mrs. Martin chose Naomi easily.

“That’s it,” he says, pointing at me. He glances at my plate of uneaten food. “The mackerel is delicious. Don’t forget to eat.”

I’m not sure I can because my esophagus is so tight that I’m bound to choke on it.

“That was four years ago.” Fuck. I do the math in my head. Ruby and Nosuké dated almost two years ago for one year. That’s three years. And I thought when I met him then the first time that he didn’t know who I was.

I chug down my saké and move on to the last of my cocktail before eating the two sushi pieces. Eat quicker, Myra. I need to get the hell out of here before the spell of this meal is broken, and I find out I’m being laughed at.

A tray of food arrives, and this time, it’s not one little course, it’s several together. Simmered tofu with bamboo shoots, grilled eel and young carrots, broiled fish, a red miso soup with baby clams, a bowl of rice — my mouth waters looking at it all.

But my mind is on the conversation. Suddenly, this meal is more than I expected. It’s not Nosuké asking me endless questions about my dad. He’s interested in me. He’s interested in me?

Does not compute.

“Wait,” I say, rewinding through my memories. “I was dating Daren then.”

This stops Nosuké. “Yes, you were. In private, right?”

“Yes.” I stare down at my meal to cover the embarrassment of being someone’s secret love affair. Well, it wasn’t anything torrid or anything. No. It was the opposite.

Daren and I dated in secret because he was ashamed of me. I knew it, and I didn’t care. This was when I was much more overweight and unhappy, and Daren didn’t want to admit to dating someone like me, especially since I was a Kimura sister. He believed my father was ruthless to anyone who dated his daughters. That my father had connections that could ruin him. It was a familiar whispering among the boys at school. We were all way off-limits.

“And you knew?”

“Daren and I were friends for a while back then. We’re not anymore.”

I think I understand the implications here, but…

“Why?”

“Because no one should ever hide you away, Myra.”

The hair on my arms rises up.

Wait. Nosuké didn’t ask me here to discuss my father. He has an ulterior motive, and I’m scared to admit that it may be me. The flowers and the wagashi — I thought they were just items to butter me up. No. Those gifts now have romantic undertones I didn’t see the first time. He was flirting with me the other night with the comments about how nice I would look in a ball gown and that my baking was bound to be delicious.

I don’t believe it. Why me?

Because no one has ever pursued me before. Ever.

I glance across the table at him, his crisp shirt, cleanly shaven face, and perfect hair. Ruby will kill me if this is real. Is it real? Or am I reading everything wrong?

His eyes are soft on me, and the set of his shoulders is confident. I don’t think I’m reading anything wrong here. I can’t even believe I’m thinking this, but Nosuké Maeda likes me. Mochi was right.

“Myra?” he prompts, breaking into my thoughts. I shake my head and come back to the present. “Tell me all about your family. I have a feeling we’ll all be very close soon enough.”

This dinner is not what I thought it was…

It’s something even better.