“Guess who called?” He held out an imaginary kilt and did an imitation of Scottish dancing.
“He called here, too? I don’t know what’s wrong with the man.” I rolled the message into a spiral before tucking it in my pocket.
“Miss Bun gave the phone to me because he couldn’t speak any Japanese. He said something about an urgent message for you. Baby, if you play this right, you could move to Roppongi Hills.”
“Or prison! Did he say he was all right?”
“He’s at home among all his dreamy luxury appliances and the view of Tokyo Tower.” Richard sighed. “I’m so annoyed you didn’t see the bedroom. I asked about it but he said no, you absolutely did not roll between the sheets.”
“You didn’t!” I was horrified.
“Of course I did. He said something terribly dry and British and laughed afterward. Very sexy laugh.”
“Richard, you’ve got to help me.” I drew him into a corner and told him about my need to leave. I couldn’t tell Mr. Katoh I had another farewell ceremony to attend. After a few minutes of bitching, Richard agreed to help. We were cementing the details when Mr. Katoh walked in.
I hadn’t expected to see him at an hour when he usually was closeted with the other section heads. I slid off the desk where I’d been sitting and threw myself into a bow. Mr. Katoh greeted both of us pleasantly, then fixed his attention on me.
“Bad weather today, isn’t it, Miss Shimura? Not like your California.”
“Well, rain at this time of the year, I’ve grown to expect it,” I said, sensing from his tone that something else was brewing. Richard caught it, too, and fled with some excuse about papers left in a classroom.
“Shall we go in the conference room? I have a problem I hope you can assist with. As you perhaps already know, our company plans to expand English instruction.”
“Are you hiring new teachers?” I sat down across from him on one of the nice leather chairs the senior executives used at their board meetings.
“Eventually. But it is a big expansion from just the Tokyo headquarters to our factory and offices in Osaka.”
Osaka was a booming business city, arguably the heart of capitalist Japan. Still, it had a crushing reputation for dullness. Nobody I knew would want to trade multicultural, cutting-edge Tokyo for Osaka. Still, my boss was counting on me.
“I could probably locate some potential teachers through the English Teachers’ Association,” I offered.
“That is considerate.” Something about my boss’ language told me that wasn’t precisely what he was after. “Miss Shimura, we are very happy with your work.”
“Thank you,” I said, ducking my head a bit to show appreciation.
“In fact, the company would like to offer you a promotion.” The miserable look on his face contradicted his words. “After your years of loyal service, we plan to upgrade your status from a contract worker to company employee with full benefits. We would like to start you in Osaka.”
“Permanently?” I croaked.
“Yes. You could live in the female employee dormitory.”
Great. From what I’d heard, shared corporate dorm rooms were minuscule, with barely enough room to hang clothes, let alone house my antiques. Living in the dorm would be like college revisited, with the addition of a curfew and a surly matron at the door.
“Why aren’t you sending Richard?” I felt overcome by bad fortune.
“Mr. Randall is not so comfortable with the Japanese culture. We especially thought of you.”
“It’s a lot to think about.” I didn’t ask about the money, because I found myself suddenly feeling that no amount would be enough to compensate for the loss of friends and relatives and the life I had painstakingly built.
“Miss Shimura, what do you think?” Mr. Katoh’s tired brown eyes pleaded with me.
“May I give you my answer later?”
“Of course.” Mr. Katoh sounded startled, which reinforced my feeling that his offer was actually an order that had come down from above.
I felt so stunned by Mr. Katoh’s proposal that my feigned physical collapse just before lunchtime was fairly realistic. Mr. Katoh became extremely upset and wanted to call an ambulance, but Richard came up with the perfect solution of putting me in a taxi ostensibly headed to St. Luke’s. The taxi stopped at the train station, per my request, where I hopped the Hibiya line over to Roppongi.
When Hugh opened the door to his apartment, I could tell the maid had been there. Tidy before, his living space was now fanatically organized. The CDs and magazines appeared alphabetized, the windows gleamed without a single streak, and the scent of pine cleaner was everywhere. If this was the kind of performance I had to imitate, I was in trouble.