Two weeks earlier
Keiko stood before the mirror. She wore a matching white bra and nickers. She thumbed and poked at the flesh of her tummy, a glum look on her face.
These knickers were meant to make her feel sexy. Well they weren’t doing their job.
Pretty little white lacy numbers, the lady in the store had promised Keiko that men would fall to their knees over her if only she forked out 50 bucks for them.
Keiko hardly had money for rent, and yet she’d spent her week’s food budget on something she really didn’t need.
Because who was Keiko Teshi trying to fool? The last time she’d slept with a man was last year. It had been an awkward fumbling affair and the guy had never called again, despite promising she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
‘How are you going in there? Let me see what they look like.’ Jenny called through the door.
Jenny was Keiko’s roommate. The tall, buxom, outgoing one. The one who had slept with more men than she’d had hot dinners. The one who could fill out a top, had a killer cleavage, and could balance in even the highest heels.
Keiko was her direct opposite. Small, flat-chested, withdrawn, and painfully shy.
‘Come on, let me see,’ Jenny knocked on the door, the sound shaking the old and rickety wood.
Everything in this apartment was about to fall down. Keiko was surprised it hadn’t been condemned yet. From the leaking taps to the mold in the bathroom to the patches of ceiling that fell in after a rain.
Still, it was the best she could afford.
‘Don’t make me break this lock,’ Jenny threatened.
Taking a sharp sigh, clamping a hand over her stomach, Keiko opened the door. Then she leaned against it, using the bulk of the wood to hide her form.
Jenny crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them together. She twisted her lips to the side as she looked Keiko up and down.
Keiko felt cold, embarrassed, and very poor. Oh, she also felt stupid; only an idiot spends $50 on lace when they haven’t had a date in months and there’s no food in the cupboard.
‘Come here,’ Jenny moved towards her, and without invitation, she grabbed at Keiko’s bra straps tugging them higher. ‘You need more lift.’
No, Keiko needed something worth lifting.
‘Don’t you dare look like that,’ Jenny got a peeved look on her face as her plush lips snapped around her words. ‘The secret of sexy is not what you look like, it’s how you act. Now start acting sexy,’ she actually smacked Keiko on the shoulder. But it was a light move.
As Keiko rubbed at her arm, she kept her mouth shut. It was very easy for someone who was the epitome of beauty to give Keiko a lesson on attitude. With her legs and breasts and killer smile, Jenny didn’t have to try.
It felt like Keiko was climbing a mountain of awkward every time she even looked, let alone talked, to a guy.
‘Come here, I’m sure I’ve got a top that will go great with that outfit.’ Jenny motioned Keiko forward with a flop of her hand.
Keiko looked hastily from side to side as she followed Jenny through the corridor. She also danced a little on the spot, using her arms to hide her bra.
So no one else was in the apartment and unless someone repelled through the windows Keiko would be fine. Still, she was not one of those girls who was comfortable swanning around in nothing but her knickers.
‘Come on, Keiko, loosen up,’ Jenny latched a hand on her bedroom door, swung in, and grabbed at the first top she saw. She threw it Keiko’s way as she trawled further through the mound of clothes covering her cheap rug.
Keiko hugged it to her chest. She was thankful for the little decency it gave her.
‘Oh, by the way,’ Jenny popped her head up from one of her drawers, stockings, pants, and bras spilling over the sides, ‘can you work Friday? I’ve got a date with James.’
Keiko nodded her head, her bob bouncing around her ears.
Of course she could. It wasn’t as if Keiko Teshi had anything to do on a Friday night.
At least work would pay for the lace.
Chase Harlow
Chase sat in the director’s chair, hands clasped over his lap as he turned towards the windows. The glass was clear and clean, the view the best in the city.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Victor pushed the document he’d been flicking through over the table.
‘No,’ Harlow answered. He didn’t bother to turn back to the table.
‘No one’s seen one of those in twenty years,’ Julius poured himself another whiskey, letting the liquid slosh in the bottom of the glass as he rested back against the dresser.
‘Indeed,’ Chase stared out at the city. The spires, the streets, the buildings. He tugged down on his jacket, loosening the last button.
‘It sounds dangerous to go after this, Chase, remember what happened to the last one,’ Victor’s voice wavered.
Chase turned, the chair swiveling smoothly. ‘Yes, yes I do.’
Okay, so he probably looked like a Bond villain here, swiveling in his chair and sounding mysterious. Chase didn’t feel like one though.
He felt like a failure. He’d been after a picture of her, a statue, a relief, anything half his life.
He had nothing to show for his efforts. A couple of scars, some bruises, and a chunk of his wealth wasted. But nothing worth showing.
Victor leaned back in his chair. His brow was tight and taught, his cheeks drawn thin. ‘They’ll know. If you get this, if it’s real, they’ll find out. Do you really want to take them on again? Remember London?’
How could he forget?
Chase leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished wood of the table. Shrugging his head between his shoulders, he nodded.
‘Can you imagine what it’ll be worth if it’s real?’ Julius gestured towards them with his whiskey, the golden liquid sloshing only slightly under his controlled hand.
Neither of them had to answer that.
Priceless. Nothing more, nothing less.
‘So, do we contact them?’ Chase glanced at his two friends. He controlled the spike of emotion that shot through his heart.
Chase Harlow was a collector. Antiques, artwork, jewelry. His father had built an auction empire, and Chase had expanded the Harlow corporation even further since he had taken the reigns two years ago. Investment funding, stocks, bonds. Harlow did it all. A Forbes 500 company, Chase’s personal wealth ranged in the billions.
Chase had it all. Except he didn’t. He would give up his arms, his heart, his soul, his company for a picture of her.
Any man would.