The next twodays of being shown Tokyo sights, having Japanese meals, having old-fashioned get-to-knows, and general time wasting are tough. I am the type that needs to get things done, and I am best working hard, alone.
Creating huge media campaigns or helping put movies together is what I do. Also, building companies.
The painfully slow and traditional way of deciding if one wants to do a deal in Japan is alien to me.
I try to remember to come across as committed and loving to Samantha and for all to see. But again, it is new to me. In saying that, it is starting to feel right.
I notice the half dozen Japanese executives with us observing me. I dislike being on show, but I like spending time with Samantha.
The older wives of the execs attend various lunches and dinners, and as always, Samantha charms everyone.
She is spectacular at understanding energy and the human social side of things. Thank God, because I am not, at all.
The second night sleeping with Samantha is hell.Well, heaven in hell.
I awake hard, spooning her, and I quickly climb out of bed and walk to the window. Ten minutes later, I am still hard, so I have a cold shower.
I have pitched huge media, movies and global advertising campaigns. And I almost always succeed in what I try.
Here and now, I am losing, and I feel it deep down.
I think back to past obstacles and challenges.
Trying to be celibate around Samantha and not slide my cock inside her slick folds and pull her by her hair is ruthlessly hard. Harder than building my first billion-dollar company.
It is her, or me, or maybe evenusthat is making it hard.No.It is making itimpossible.
Maybe I’m just getting old, and maybe, just maybe, I am losing my shit.
There is one other problem. There is a chance she isThe One.
And if she is the one, she is more important than the billions in upside.Far more important.
27
HARRISON
After two more days of seeing sights, walking, talking, and sitting while not discussing the deal or any darned detail as is the Japanese way, I head for our car outside another temple.
Our Japanese executive deal broker pulls me aside, and in an awkward way, he tells me they will likely not sell.
“What do you mean?” I ask, astounded.
I have been ultra respectful. I’ve bowed a dozen times a day. I’ve shaken hands. I’ve laughed at the right time. I’ve been beyond patient. I’ve eaten all kinds of weird food, and I’ve been humble.
As humble as fuck.
“Hard to say, Harry-san,” the fixer says as we look across at Mount Fuji. “I suspect they think you and Samantha-san not have true love. That your way of, let me say, Playboy still not over. You still not settle down, or say, you are still not a stable rock. A stable boulder in the moving river of life.”
Pacing, I say nothing. What the hell is there to say?
I nod and thank him gracefully.
As Samantha and I drive back to the hotel alone, I know I must tell her. Tell her I have failed.
As we walk into our large hotel suite, I pull off my jacket and toss it. “They know!”
“Know what?”
