Chereads / The Japanese Businessman / Chapter 9 - chapter 9

Chapter 9 - chapter 9

Ten days since Zen note-boomed him with "You Are Mine," and then nothing. What the hell was the guy trying to pull? Ten days of me startling every time the phone at my desk rang. Ten days of staring aimlessly at the elevator doors as if by magic Zen would walk through them. I was at the photoshoot of the Milan Fashion show.

"Pull your head out of your ass, Haru," someone said through chattering teeth.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" Daniel called from the entrance of the tent. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer for strength. .

"Come on!" Daniel whined. "I'm freezing my cute tush off."

"You know I am still mad at you for taking me to place like that" I yelled at him.

"I already said sorry for that you remember", he answered me.

I laughed at seeing him pout. Then I went to where the shoot was. They were taking photos of someone modeling for them. I couldn't see the person because the light board stick in my sight. I walked nearer to get a better look. It was Zen. Its been ten days since J last saw him. He looked towards me and smiled. I gave him a vague expression and looked away.

They kept on shooting photos. He kept on giving me winks and smile.

" Hmmmm. Don't tell me he is the one" Kate startled me from behind.

"What?" I said shocked. " No, No. Are you mad?" I said to her and glared at her.

"Ok. Ok. I am sorry", she said to me.

"Hmmm" I hummed and looked back to the shoot.

" By the way have you noticed. He has been looking at you ever since you arrived" she giggled.

Obviously I know. I have been giving him vague expression since.

" No I haven't " I said for security purpose.

The shoot was done so I was leaving. But someone came running to me from behind and hold my hand from behind.

"Excuse me" I shook my hand a glared at him.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Zen asked me.

"Why would I ignore you?" I replied in protest.

"Then why are you not smiling at me. And giving me vague expressions".

"I am telling you don't you ignore me", he dared me.

"I gotta go. See you at the fashion show tonight" I said to him and left him hanging there.

It was the night. MILAN FASHION SHOW. I saw Miss. Pierce. That day she chose to wear one of Yoshi's tamer creations-a black and laced dress flowing all the way to the floor. A bold move on her part since it declared to the world that she supported the Japanese designer a hundred percent.

I removed my coat and gloves and handed it to one of the assistants to put away. Then I approached Miss. Pierce, squaring my shoulders as I did. The producer by the front announced ten minutes to the show. I crooked my arm toward her.

"Escort you to your seat?" I asked with a calm J hadn't possessed minutes earlier. Miss. Pierce huffed once as a sign of her annoyance, but she took my arm anyway. "I would have you know that the only reason you're alive right now is because I love your mother dearly and was there as you were pushing your way out of her vagina."

"Ew" I blushed scarlet within seconds of her words. I glanced around to check if anyone had heard her and only sighed in relief when it seemed like the coast was clear. "Why would you have to bring that up? In public no less!"

"Because you decided to leave me alone when you should be by my side."

"By the way. Are you ok, dear" she added.

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm just sorting out some feelings."

"Is this about ." She kissed me on the cheek when we reached her seat. "That dick was a fool to break your heart. Too bad he doesn't work in fashion."

I kissed on Miss. Pierce's hand. "Don't worry about me. My mother does that enough for the both of you. Now, you and I have work to do."

She waved me away, putting her editor-in-chief face on.

I made my way to my seat and settled in. I fished out his tablet from his breast pocket and cued up the lookbook Yoshi's people sent out.

I was busy scrolling through the pictures when the lights dimmed. Yoshi stepped out onto the runway to a spotlight and polite applause. He spoke into a mic as purple as his hair and explained the inspiration for the geometric designs of his clothes. Then he thanked everyone for coming and asked that they enjoy the show.

The second he disappeared, Japanese pop music was playing and a cartoon of cherry blossoms falling played against the white wall separating the front from backstage. The second the first model rounded the corner was the same second I recognized who was sitting beside Miss. Pierce.

Time stopped.

"Zen," I said under my breath as his heartbeat kicked up.

And as if he had heard me, a slow, sensual smile stretched across Zen's usually firm lips.

Throughout the show, my eyes kept glancing at the seat beside me. It remained empty. A rare occurrence. The organizers would never allow a vacant seat-especially one in front. So why it happened baffled me until about halfway through.

I'd been placing an order for another suit that caught my eye when someone settled in beside me. The warm thigh that pressed against me forced me to address the invasion of my personal space. He turned to politely ask the person to move and was met with Zen's handsome profile. A lump immediately formed in my throat, restricting any access to air his lungs badly needed.

"What are you doing here?" I choked out.

Unwilling to create a scene, I gritted my teeth against the tingles crawling up the length of my leg that congregated at my crotch. Holy hell. This man turned him on beyond sane thought.

Nonchalantly, Zen said, "I'm watching the rest of the show."

The guy didn't even look my way when he spoke.

The exact moment I needed a distraction from the delicious slice of mancake sitting beside me, Daniel made his second appearance down the catwalk. He wore a commanding navy pinstriped suit with a check shirt. A bold move for Mode, but something definitely worth seeing. My best friend made matching checks and stripes look good with scruff and a messy mop of hair. Businessman with an edge.

When Daniel made his turn at the end of the runway and walked back, he gave a wink.

In this instance, a hand closed around my thigh and squeezed hard enough to hurt. I turned my gaze away from the models to glare at Zen who wasn't looking at me, but the tick of muscle along his jaw belayed his rising temper. This gave me a sense of personal satisfaction i hadn't felt in a while.

"Jealous?" I teased.

Sure, it was like poking a sleeping bear or annoying a lounging lion, but i hardly gave a damn. If i was able to put some sort of expression on that usually stoic face then i was all for it.

"Who is that man to you?" zen hissed in Japanese.

"What's it to you?" I asked back in English and giggled.

For the first time since he'd arrived, Zen twisted in his seat to face him full on. The ice in his pale gaze had since melted. "I asked you a question and I expect an answer."

His eyebrows shot up. "Has anyone ever told you that you revert to Nihongo when you're pissed?"

"If you don't answer my question I will throw you over my shoulder, bring you to my car, and proceed to fuck you senseless until you forget your own name. Now, which will it be?" Zen glared at me with a evil grin.

Thank God he hadn't spoken English when making the threat because i didn't know what I would have done with myself if our seatmates understood Zen. A part of me was tempted to defy Zen just to see if he would make good on his promise. The more rational part of me knew I needed to quit playing games. So, to be safe, I switched to Nihongo too.

Despite my dry mouth, I managed to say, "Mr. the model is my best friend. I'm here today to support him."

"Then why did he wink at you?"

"You're being ridiculous."

"Am I?"

I'd had enough. I didn't have to explain myself to this man any further. Thankfully the show had ended. I stood up and made my way backstage.

When I was sure I was safely hidden from view, I bent over, resting my hands on my knees, and breathed. The air that didn't contain that intoxicating spicy musk helped me gather my scattered thoughts. Being near Zen screwed up my common sense. I didn't know what to do with myself. It was something new.

"Haru!" Daniel called from across the backstage area.

I stood up straight and forced a smile, waving at my friend who was currently being helped out of hundreds of dollars' worth of merchandise. The green-eyed man-candy waved me over, but before I could do anything, a hand on my shoulder prevented me from moving. I was turned around to face a fuming Zen-eyebrows together, blue gaze blazing, lips a stern line.

As I opened my mouth to protest, Zen bent down and threw me over his shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes. It looked so good in movies this scenario but it felt so uncool in real life when my ass was up in the air for all to see.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled, slamming my fists against my kidnapper's lower back.

"You and I need to talk," he said without losing his breath as he made his way back to the front of the tent.

I was mortified as all eyes were on me. No matter how hard I struggled, the iron grip keeping me in place never loosened. Flash here and there it went on. Me coming to realisation Oh God. We would be all over the tabloids the next day.

"Zen, put me down. You're embarrassing the both of us!"

"You should have thought of that before you walked away from me."

"Hey!" came the shout from behind them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I groaned. Of course, Daniel would come to my rescue. Daniel grabbed a hold of Zen's shoulder and turn me around. My vision blurred as a wave of dizziness assailed me.

"Haru and I need to talk," Zen said simply, calmly even.

"You are most certainly not going anywhere with him," Daniel answered back.

A crowd had gathered around them. Tomorrow this fiasco would be plastered in every gossip rag out there.

The list of horrifying articles speculating what was actually happening went on and on in my head. I could already see the headlines: Famous editor-in-chief's assistant causes trouble at Milan Fashion show. Top model Daniel Barcelona and prominent businessman Zen Kirishima fight it out. Business tycoon Andrew Salvador's and Supermodel Sakura Salvador's son Haru Salvador in lovers' spat being the most horrific one. A chill ran down my spine at the thought of my father finding it out and its consequences.

That last thought was what made me say, "Daniel, it's okay."

"What?" my best friend rounded Zen's considerable bulk so they faced each other.

I gave him a lopsided grin. "Let me handle this."

"Are you sure?"

"He's sure," Zen chimed in.

Hands on his hips, Daniel let out the breath he'd been holding then said, "You make sure to call me, you hear?"

I nodded to him. Zen didn't seem to like that bit because he cursed under his breath in Nihongo.

"You can put me down now. I'll go with you willingly."

"Not a chance," Zen said as he continued to haul me out of there.