A smug look comes over Hayato’s face as soon as he sees me as if he’d been expecting me all along.
But then, without any preamble, I say, “Long story. Declan and I need to borrow your plane.”
The only good thing about my request is that it makes that smug look disappear.
“You need to borrow my plane,” he says carefully.
“Just for a couple of days, sir,” Declan answers gruffly. His eyes are still red-rimmed from crying. “It’s my mom. I’ve got to go see her.”
“You must go see her,” Hayato repeats, his eyes swing from his close-to-tears guard back to me. “With Kristal.”
I hunch my shoulders sheepishly. “Like I said, it’s a long story.”
Declan clasps his beefy hands in front of his chest, pleading, “Please, sir, I know this isn’t professional, but this is the only way to get me and Kristal cross country quick. So if you could find it in your heart to lend me your plane.”
We both wait. Declan with his hands folded. Me wishing I could disappear into my elf hat as Hayato regards us with a cool expression.
Then he says, “I would like to hear this long story from Kristal. Declan, you can wait in your room. I’ll be in touch.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’m the one who should…”
My protest is drowned out by Declan, saying, “Thank you, sir. Thank you for even considering it. I’ll be waiting for your answer in my room.”
Then, just like that, Declan abandons me. Rushing away like a reindeer who’s been commanded by Santa himself.
And as for Hayato…he opens the door wider, inviting me in without a word.
It’s an invitation I have to take, I guess. But man, does it feel like racketing up to the top of a roller coaster as I walk into his hotel room. I have the same butterflies in my stomach as a year ago, even though this situation isn’t the same. Like, not even remotely.
The room, I notice, right off the bat, isn’t nearly as grand as the one he was staying in when we first met.
I mean, it’s still lovely, don’t get me wrong. It just looks more like what you’d expect from a hotel room. There’s a simple seating area and one bedroom instead of an entire apartment with a boardroom for extra “whoa, would you look at that” kick. And his view overlooks the City Center, not the bay. If it wasn’t night with so many buildings in the way, I would have been able to see the Tenderloin District and Jae-Hyun’s little comic shop with the two apartments above.
“I didn’t have the time to book the penthouse suite this year,” he says, coming up to stand behind me. “I had to take what they had available at the last minute.”
“Oh, I actually like this better,” I answer, taking in the simple city view for longer than I need to, as I try to calm down my heart, which is lit up like an electronic toy, just because I’m in the same room with Hayato again. “It’s a lot less intimidating.”
Except it isn’t. I discover that out when I finally turn around and find him holding two drinks. They’re both brown, but why do I get the feeling the glass he’s holding out to me is brandy? Same as last time. And there goes my heart again, beating so hard, it feels like my whole body is pulsing right along with it.
“Would you prefer something else?” he asks, mistaking my stricken look.
“No, this is fine, thanks,” I answer in a too-quick rush. It feels like the air is thinner up here. Maybe because I’m not used to being so high up. But more likely, because Hayato looks unbelievably handsome standing across from me in a crisp white business shirt with rolled-up sleeves.
What is it about a man with rolled-up sleeves? I wonder, mentally sketching the play of roped veins in his arm as I self-consciously take the drink from him. He looks even hotter now to me than he did in a tux.
“Sit wherever you like,” he says, indicating the seating area.
I choose the dove gray reception chair, unable to even consider the couch after what happened on the last piece of upholstered furniture we found ourselves on together.
He doesn’t seem to have any of the same qualms as me, though. He calmly takes a seat at the end of the flared arm sofa, placing himself at a diagonal. For some reason, this feels even more intimate than when he sat down across from me at Sukiyabashi Daniel.
“Please, explain this request to me,” he says, setting his drink down on a small table with a lamp.
Both his words and his expression are polite enough, but I’m once again struck by the same feeling I got the last time he offered me a drink. That his politeness is a mask, just a mask. One that could come off at any second.
“Well…um,” I start with a shaky breath. “As…you sort of know…I have a special ability…to, um, predict, when a loved one is close to dying. Within a year. And when you had Declan drop off my drawing pad…”
Hayato’s expression remains inscrutable, his eyes watchful. “The one you placed in my messenger bag.”
I cringe inwardly but then decide this story already sounds crazy enough without adding a “No, Santa did that” into the mix.
Pushing on, I explain, “Anyway, when he brought me my pad, I ended up having to draw a picture of a woman who turned out to be his mother.”
Hayato tilts his head with an elegant curiosity only wealthy foreigners can pull off. “Declan believed you when you said his mother would soon die?”
“Yes, yes, he did. You’d be surprised how many people respond to my drawings just like Declan and Eloa did. I think maybe humans are connected to their loved ones on a level they don’t quite understand…”
I stop, waiting for Hayato to give me a “wow, you’re crazy” look. But his features remain neutral, as if he’s waiting for me to finish.
So I do. “Also, it’s not exactly soon. The date on the drawing is within eleven months. A sort of long time from now, but when it’s that far out, often it’s indicating something that might be prevented. Declan hopes that’s the case. Apparently, she had a cough the last time he visited her in Maine, and he asked her to get it checked out, but she refused. So now he needs me to go with him and tell her myself that she’s going to die if she doesn’t see a doctor.”
A few seconds tick by, and Hayato seems to be still considering my words when he asks, “Why do you and Declan believe she will listen to you when she refused to listen to her son?”
If I were drawing this, I’d shrink my face so hard, and even though I’m too dark to blush visibly, I’d hatch in some severely red cheeks to indicate embarrassment. So much embarrassment. Like, all the embarrassment there ever was to embarrass.
I cringe and decide to just get the explanation over in one rush of breath. “Because she’s Irish. And I’m an elf. And she believes in elves…and will actually listen to them—at least according to Declan.”
A beat.
Then Hayato translates, “I see. Declan wants to use your story about being an elf to convince his mother to go see a doctor.”
“Yeah, something like that,” I mumble, not at all up to defending my story as truth to the extremely hot businessman sitting across from me. “But the thing is, I don’t have any ID, which means I can’t fly commercial. And I have to be back here by the twelfth day of Christmas, so a cross country train or car trip is out of the question. Declan says he can get me past security on a private flight. Plus, he’s been working for you for years, so he was hoping you’d do him this boon.”
“Boon…” Hayato repeats, his expression going somewhat sheepish. “An English word I don’t know. That rarely happens anymore.”
“It means favor,” I explain, so self-conscious it feels like my entire face is burning.
Hayato acknowledges my explanation with a brief nod. “I see. You would like to borrow my plane…in exchange for what?”
“For what?” I repeat, blinking at his question. “I would think for years of great service on Declan’s part. Or you know, something like that.”
Hayato picks up his drink and takes a sip before returning with, “Declan is a capable driver and has provided me with good service. However, I could replace two Declans tomorrow for the cost of one private plane ride. Also, staying here while Declan sorts out this situation with his mother would mean more time off of work for me since I wouldn’t be able to return to Japan first thing in the morning as I intended.”
I tighten my hands around my glass, feeling so uncomfortable because I think this is the part where I’m supposed to negotiate on Declan’s behalf.
Man, I wish he was here instead of me. I’m an elf, and Hayato’s a businessman who doesn’t believe I’m an elf. I feel way out of my lane, trying to negotiate this life-or-death plane deal. But I give it my best shot. “Couldn’t you just fly commercial back to Japan? Like first class?”
He gives me a cool look, then simply answers, “That is not possible. So, once again, I must ask what you are willing to exchange for this boon?”
Alarm shivers through me. “You want something from me in exchange for the plane? Not Declan?” I ask, my voice rising a few octaves with surprise.
“Yes,” he says, taking another sip of his drink.
But that yes isn’t simple, is it? No, not at all.
It takes me a few moments to fully process his words, but I eventually do.
“Sex,” I realize out loud, my body taking on a new tension. “You would seriously want me to have another one-night-stand with you in exchange for the use of your plane?”
“That is a suggestion I would consider,” he answers as if I made him the actual offer and didn’t present it as a shocked hypothetical. His eyes glitter with amusement now. “However, I do not think one night would be compensation enough for both my plane and my time. You say you must return to your job on the twelfth day of Christmas. I can take exactly that amount of time off of work. In exchange, you can provide me with companionship until we both return to our jobs.”
“Companionship…” I repeat, beyond shocked. “You mean sleep with you for ten whole days.”
“That would be part of the package, yes,” he answers.
My heart beats faster at the prospect of sleeping with someone—not just someone, Hayato freaking Nakamura—in exchange for a plane. It feels crazy for more reasons than one.
“I don’t understand,” I tell him, truthfully. “Why me? You could have, like, any other woman in this city.”
“Yet, here I am, negotiating with you,” he answers. His voice is quiet, almost soft, but there’s no give in it. No place to wiggle or straight-up run.
I breathe. Try to think. Which is hard with his eyes on me. I take a huge sip of brandy. That doesn’t help either. But at least I don’t fall into another coughing fit this time.
The truth is, I don’t hate the idea of spending the next ten days with Hayato. Sure, we’re on completely opposite sides of the spectrum when it comes to relationships, but neither of us is denying that the one night we spent together last January was hella fun…and hot.
It’s Bacchanoel. My elf credo, I’m supposed to do whatever and whoever I want. Maybe, I could let go again. Let myself have some fun. To help Declan out.
But… “This feels like a really bad idea. Somebody’s going to get hurt.”
And by somebody, I totally mean me, the elf who meant what she said last night…but can feel a newly awakened hunger crawling through her body. Not just urging but screaming at her to answer yes to his outrageous proposal.
Hayato gives me another cool look. “Not if we enter into this business relationship with a clear-eyed view of what will happen. We’ll enjoy each other’s company for a few days, up to ten, depending on my mood. Then we’ll go our separate ways.”
Just business…
“So you won’t be showing up at next year’s Christmas party?” I ask, a small smile quirking my lips.
His mouth tilts up slightly, too. “I don’t believe so.”
“Okay,” I say. “Okay, I’ll do it. But on one condition…”
I wait for him to ask what the condition is, but he doesn’t take the bait. He just sits there, on wicked standby for my next words.
Man, this guy is good at business, I think to myself as I take another Dutch Courage sip of brandy, then say, “I need you to do for me what I’m going to do for Declan.”
“Pretend to be an elf?” he asks.
“Um…no,” I answer, once again pushing aside the urge to point out that I’m not pretending. “I need you to go to Jae-Hyun, the man I drew for you. He lives right nearby in the Tenderloin District, and he’s…all alone this year. In fact, if you don’t visit him, he’s going to die all alone. And I can’t go back to Santa’s workshop, knowing that I didn’t do all I could to prevent that. So do that for me, and I’ll um…be your companion for the next ten days.
Now, it’s his turn to mull over my offer. And let me tell you, he takes a lot longer than I did to consider his. Embarrassment hatches back onto my cheeks as seconds upon seconds tick by.
Then with a somewhat annoyed look, he says, “Fine. But after you’ve served your full ten days, not before.”
“Why not before?” I ask, thinking of Jae-Hyun all alone in his hoarder’s apartment. “We could go right now.”
“Forgive me,” he says, with a sardonic bow of his head. “You disappeared so completely the last time you agreed to replace my date. I am wary of making arrangements with you again, without some guarantee you will stay as long as I require this time.”
Now I have to quirk my head because “Were you really that upset I disappeared in the morning?”
Instead of answering my question, he takes another sip of his drink. “We should talk about your terms of service. I don’t think it’s necessary to sign a formal contract. In exchange for the plane, I’ll expect two-hundred and forty hours of companionship, at the end of which, you may take me to meet this”—a distasteful look passes over his face— “man, I do not know.”
I don’t bother explaining to him he has to know him. That Santa’s gift is unerring. I can tell there’s some wall here on both his and Jae-Hyun’s part. One that can only be surmounted if I stay firm in this negotiation and get them in the same room.
But funny, how stating my expected time as two-hundred and forty hours makes what’s supposed to be a short ten days seem like eons.
I peep up at him. And though I left Jae-Hyun’s apartment nearly an hour ago, it feels like “The Warmth of the Sun” is still playing on a record player somewhere I can’t see, melancholy and bright.
I force myself to be brave. To do this. For Declan. For Jae-Hyun. Most definitely not for me.
At least that’s what I tell myself as I say, “Okay…two-hundred and forty hours. I agree to that. When do I begin?”
He sets down his brandy, his dark eyes taking on a new heat.
“Now,” he answers, the one word dropping down like an anvil between us.
Then he rises from the couch and comes to stand over me, his long, lean body framed by the glowing city lights of San Francisco.
Wowee!!!
Will Hayato and Kristal seal this deal?
Find out in the next hot installment of
TWELVE MONTHS OF KRISTAL