Ren’s smirk has transformed into a smile. “Konnichiwa.I’m Ren Sato.” He bows. “You must be Hayden Bennett. Darcy-kunhas told me much about you.” I narrow my eyes as he glances my way. That only seems to make his grin grow wider.
“Darcy-kun, huh?” Hayden shakes her head. “You two are close?”
“He couldn’t get rid of me if he tried.”
Hayden chuckles and brings one hand up to cover her mouth. It’s an objectively cute action, like she’s embarrassed.
Hayden Bennett is never embarrassed. If I know anything about that woman, it’s that she’s too confident for her own good.
I continue to watch Ren and Hayden. I don’t like the way they move around each other. Hayden has fully angled herself away from me and toward Ren. Ren has mimicked the action. They aren’t speaking, but their body language seems to be having its own conversation.
Why do I feel like a third wheel in this room?
“We need to get going,” I state, clapping my hands together as some unfamiliar feeling heats my veins.
“Will you be joining us tonight, Sato-san?”
“Please, call me Ren. Though, I do respect that you understand proper honorifics.” Ren continues flashing hismillion-dollar smile as he bows to Hayden once more.
She bows in return. “Then, please, call me Hayden.”
“Okay,” I draw. “We’ve got to go, Miss Bennett.”
“I think it’ll be fun to tag along,” Ren says, boasting a broad smile.
“No,” I bark. Hayden gawks at me and Ren shrugs. Then, he whips out his phone and shows me a text invite from Mr. Weatherby.
With a smug expression that could rival the current president, he says, “Let’s save gas and ride together.”
Chapter Five
Hayden
Sweet goodness. What have I been blessed by the Almighty with?
The answer? My very own Japanese hunk.
I’m sitting in Darcy’s fancy black Cadillac. Ren is in the front passenger seat, and Darcy is sitting adjacent to me in the back with only the small middle seat in the space between us. He insisted Ren take the front seat and climbed in the back with me. Of course, I put up a fuss, questioning why I couldn’t sit up front and keep Lionel, one of Darcy’s personal drivers, company while both the men sat in the back.
Darcy’s reasoning: Ren is our guest and should be allotted the front seat.
Honestly, I want that dreamboat sitting next to me in the backseat instead of the stiff-necked, insufferable, too-tall-for-his-own-good Darcy.
“So, Ren.” I lean forward, placing my hands on top of the shoulder portion of his seat to steady myself. Thatchonmageofhis has my nerves unraveling. “Are you from the States or Japan? Your English is impeccable. There’s not even a trace of a Japanese accent.”
Ren turns his head in my direction so that he’s eyeing me out of one corner. “I am the son of the Japanese ambassador to the United States. I was born and raised here, though I have been on a mission to understand and engage in my roots more.”
Suddenly, I feel small in this car of powerful men.
At least there’s always Lionel the Driver.
“Oh, Mr. Sato is your father. I believe I met him at last year’s Ambassador Ball.” I try to sound chill and nuanced, but my heart is racing and my skin is perspiring. This man looks too good for his own good. I can see the resemblance now—bushy (but neat) eyebrows, pointed nose, long neck, and lips that are ridiculously full. I remember thinking the same of Mr. Sato. Regardless of when I meet someone or how many times I meet them, I have a knack for recalling their faces and remembering names. It’s quite helpful in my line of work.
Ren chuckles. “He has an affinity for those kinds of things. Me? Not so much.”
“Why not?”
“I have more of a…” he hums, “private taste.” Ren winks and curls his lips into a smirk.
