Rocking. My step-bro’s getting hitched soon though and I’m being pressured by the olds to go along and play nice. Thinking about taking someone v unsuitable for my date for jinks. Got any connects I can tap?
I laugh out loud. This is typical Raffa humour. He’s never got on with his stepfamily, who’ve treated him like shit since his dad remarried when he was nine. He usually makes a point of steering well clear of them all now. It makes me wonder what kind of pressure they’re putting on him to make him turn up for this wedding. Or maybe he’s thinking of using it as a chance to get some payback. He’s not the Machiavellian type, but I wouldn’t blame him for making trouble in this instance. He’s had to put up with a lot from those fuckers.
I type back:
No-one comes to mind stat. I’ll think on it. Keep me posted, sounds like it could turn into quite the showdown
My focus is pulled away from my phone’s screen when a sleek, grey minibus with the hotel’s livery pulls up outside the main entrance. A driver gets out to open the sliding door and allow a lone guest to exit.
My stomach does a weird swoop as a sixth sense about the woman who’s alighting makes me pay closer attention. There’s something unnervingly familiar about her. I can’t see the whole of her face because it’s partly obscured by a wide-brimmed sun hat, but there’s something about the fluid, elegant way she moves, a bit like a dancer, plus the glow of her perfect, honey-coloured skin that grabs me by the throat.
And her mouth.
Wide and plump and sensual. It makes me think about things I really shouldn’t be thinking about in the middle of a public space. Especially because my body reacts accordingly.
There’s only one person I’ve ever met who’s had that kind of effect on me. And it’s not someone I thought I’d ever see again. Especially not here. Not now.
As if she’s sensed my interest, the woman raises her head and looks directly towards where I’m standing staring at her, unable to drag my gaze away.
A hot shiver runs from the top of my scalp all the way to my feet.
No fucking way.
* * *
Chloe
After stepping down from the hotel’s shuttle bus, I take a deep breath of the fresh, oxygenated air. It smells amazing here, so earthy and woody.
I wave away the kind driver’s offer to wheel my suitcase into reception for me.
I’ve never stayed in a five-star hotel before, so I’m not exactly sure how to act. Are you meant to tip? I’ve been told there isn’t a tipping culture in Japan, but does that apply to these sorts of hotels too?
I don’t want to get it wrong and appear rude or thoughtless, but I also don’t want to step on a custom and make anyone feel uncomfortable. It’s a bloody minefield.
No wonder rich people seem so uptight.
Thankfully, the guy doesn’t give me chance to put my hand in my pocket and performs a friendly, respectful bow before getting back into the minibus.
I grab the handle of my suitcase and turn towards the main doors to the hotel. It’s like walking up to paradise. The entrance is a sea of green, or should I say a river, since we’re on the bank of one. It’s so lush and vibrant and it makes my heart soar to see it.
I love being amongst greenery. The charity I’ve been working for since graduating from university is heavily invested in rewilding and maintaining and protecting forests and green spaces in the UK, so I live and breathe plants and trees.
The hotel has been built with a lot of wood, helping it blend into the landscape, though I know for a fact that it was constructed many years ago using sustainable sources. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to stay here.
Adrian had wanted to book into a place in the middle of Kyoto for the nightlife, but I was adamant I wanted somewhere quieter. I pointed out that we could travel into the city to find the fun, if we were struggling to make our own.
He’d given in to my wants, as he’d always done, being far more laid-back than me. But of course, I realise now that it was more to do with his guilt about the second thoughts he was having about us getting married.
A hot, sickening sort of dismay rises through me, but I push it down again. I have a horrible feeling it’s going to take me a long time to trust a partner again.
Hopefully a week here will help lift the heavy malaise that’s been dragging at me since the weekend, anyway. I haven’t cried yet, but I can feel it bubbling away below the surface.
Distraction is what I need.
As I move towards the entrance doors, they open with a soft swooshing sound and I walk into the reception area, pulling my case behind me.
It takes a second for my eyes to get used to the change in light as it’s a lot more muted in here, but when they do, I realise I’m looking directly at a tall, broad-shouldered man who’s standing in front of the reception desk.
