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“Seriously?”

I nod. “That’s just the way a lot of things get done in Japan. They’re very conflict-averse and don’t want to bring up anything that could be confrontational to your face.”

“Then what’s the point of even having meetings?” She sounds outraged. “We didn’t have to come out here if that’s what they’re going to do!”

“They prefer to confirm all the details they’ve already agreed on face to face.”

She shakes her head. “Waste of time.”

“Just a different culture. Easier to work with it, rather than against it. They aren’t going to change just for us.”

She looks down at her screen with the small, thoughtful sound she always makes when she’s digesting info she’s not too fond of.

The car plunges into silence. I study her. She doesn’t show anything now, hiding behind a polished professional mask as she types messages on her phone. Strong and resilient. Recalling the crappy way her father treated her makes me want to go back to the lobby and punch him a few times. How dare he belittle what she’s accomplished, as though the only thing she should be capable of is gratefully receiving whatever her daddy deigns to give her?

He doesn’t deserve a daughter like her. I’m proud of her for not letting that man determine her worth.

Chapter Thirteen

Max

“Do you know where you’re going?” I ask for the third time since we left the hotel to grab dinner.

“Of course.” Rhys squints at the map the concierge sent along with the reservation details, then looks at our surroundings.

Are we even on the right street?None of the restaurants and shops screamfancyormoneyed. At least the area’s busy with foot traffic. So hopefully that means good restaurants, even if they’re too humble for Rhys’s taste.

He eats whatever’s convenient and fast for lunch, unless it’s a business lunch, but for dinner? He prefers something more luxurious and gourmet. The fancy wagyu omakase from last night was much more to his liking than the little mom-and-pop places around us seem to be.

Commuters and tourists mill about everywhere. Rhys checks the map app again.

I suppress a sigh. “If you tell me where we’re going, I might be able to help.”

“I got it.”

He said that ten minutes ago. “It doesn’t make you less of a man to ask for directions,” I say, making sure to keep my voice extra dulcet.

“I don’t speak Japanese.” He glances at me. “Do you?”

I frown. “No.”

“Right. So, in Google we trust. Next time we’re in Tokyo, you can study Japanese beforehand and ask directions all you want. I’ll leave myself at your mercy.”

Just like him to shut me up with the thinly veiled threat of a project as time-consuming and difficult as mastering a new language. The scary thing is that he might just do it. One of our new MBAs insisted on buying some company in China that Rhys wasn’t interested in. To make him shut up, Rhys enrolled him in a Mandarin course and said, “If you can speak conversational Chinese, you can be in charge of it.” Within a month, he stopped bringing it up—and quietly quit the class.

Suddenly, Rhys points at a spot several yards ahead. “Finally! Our dinner reservation.”

“Where?”

“There.” He leads me to a small hole-in-a-wall joint with a bright red and yellow logo on sliding glass doors.

My jaw slackens. “God Burger? Are you serious?” I let out an incredulous laugh. “I thought you wanted to go to some place fancy and eat blowfish, so you wouldn’t feel so bad about lying to your grandmother.”

He starts to respond, but his phone vibrates. He frowns. “Speak of the devil. Shouldn’t have brought her up at all.” He turns the phone so I can read it.

–Czarina: Well? Did you figure out what’s going on with the pregnancy? Can you issue a statement? What do you think about the list I sent? Find anything acceptable?

“You call your grandmother Czarina?”