Akira stroked a strand of her hair. “Just making conversation.”
“My husband is doing fine, thanks, despite his financial woes.” A secret smile curved Tatiana’s lips. Probably because she was still tickled to call the man her “husband”.
A pang of something foreign and unwelcome shot through Akira’s system. She wasn’t jealous of the other woman, Akira assured herself. As much as she had grown to like Wyatt, she didn’t crave him for herself. She could see herself with that kind of cold, dominant man for a night or two—any more and she would slit his throat and leave him in a ditch somewhere.
Maybe it was simply wistfulness she was experiencing at how happy Tatiana appeared. She identified with Tatiana—neither of them fit the mold the world considered appropriate for women. Neither of them particularly cared.
It was rare, in Akira’s experience, to find people who understood and accepted women like them as they were. To find one you would want to tie yourself to for life? Tatiana had discovered a needle in a haystack. “You know you can back out still, if you’re worried about his financial solvency,” Akira responded. “I’m sure a Vegas divorce is as easy to obtain as a Vegas marriage certificate.”
Tatiana snorted. “Please. As if I married him for his money.”
A person only had to look at Tatiana and Wyatt together to know why they had married. Even to a cynic like her, their love was practically an incandescent entity.
Akira shifted, inadvertently flashing Tatiana with her breast. The other woman sighed. “Wyatt’s going to be so sad he missed this call.”
“If he gets his financials back up, he could get back to playing instead of working.”
“I’ll be sure to pass that message along.” Tatiana paused to take another sip of her coffee. “Now, what’s up with you?”
Akira curled her legs beneath her, the silk of her sheets rasping against her shaved legs. “I found the box.”
Tatiana’s loud squeal came through the connection. “Get out. Can I see?”
Since she had been loath to be separated from it, the thing was sitting on her nightstand. She leaned over and picked it up, holding it so Tatiana could view it.
Tatiana was silent for a moment and then sighed. “That is some fine craftsmanship. I’ve never seen a puzzle box so intricate before. How many moves?”
“Two hundred and twenty-six.” The panels on the sides of the box slid back and forth and had to be manipulated in a certain sequence in order to get inside. Better than a diary with a lock and key.
Akira had been careful not to mention her grandmother’s box to many people.However, Tatiana could be trusted. Plus, she was an artist and had contacts Akira had been aware might come in handy.
“When did you find it?”
She recalled that glorious instant she had realized what she’d held, dressed down in Jacob’s mundane shopping bag. “Last week.”
“And you waited until now to tell me?”
“I’ve been busy. Sorry.”
“If you want to send me photos of it, I have a couple of colleagues in Japan who might be able to help you track down the company that made that box, if it’s still in business,” Tatiana offered, affirming Akira’s decision to bring the other woman into her confidence. “I mean, I’m sure you have resources there too, but…”
“Actually, I don’t. None in this particular sector.” Except for her paternal grandmother, whom she had never met, Akira’s parents and grandparents had all been born and raised outside of Japan—her father’s side in Europe, her mother’s in the United States. If she had relatives remaining in Japan, she didn’t know them.
She had established a nightclub in Tokyo, but her contacts through that were limited to others in the nightlife and hospitality industries. “I’d appreciate your help. Though I have no idea if it was a company or a solo craftsman that made it, or when.My great-grandfather gave it to my grandma when she was young.” She turned it over in her hand, the sound of the contents tumbling inside oddly comforting her. “As far as I can tell, there’s no craftsman mark.”
“Hmm. Well, send me the photos anyway. Do you know what’s inside?”
“No. My grandma knew how to open it, but whenever I would try to grab it, she’d laugh and tell me it was a secret. She’d tell me only when she was older, so I would be able to open it after she died.” Akira paused. Her poor grandmother had been wholly unaware she would suffer a fatal stroke when Akira was nineteen, leaving the box in ignorant hands. “I have fiddled with it a little, wondering if I could get it open.”
“I wouldn’t have the patience,” Tatiana said dryly. “I’d probably get frustrated and smash it after a day or so.”
As much as Akira wanted to claim she would be capable of calmly manipulating the panels forever until she found the proper sequence of moves, she knew that was a lie. Sitting still had never been her forte.
Tatiana frowned. “When I traveled to Japan, I saw these boxes in a couple of high-end stores, so someone is still making them. Maybe any manufacturer can give you some pointers, or if you send them the box, they can open it for you. That way you don’t have to resort to the hammer.”
Something within Akira shied away from the thought of someone far away handling her grandmother’s treasure. The box itself was as important as what was inside it. “I’ll send you the pictures,” she said. “Let’s start there. In the meantime, I’ll keep poking at it.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for them. Where’d you find it, anyway? I thought you searched your mother’s house from top to bottom.”
