You might be the only thing holding me together right now
Thank you so much for this xoxo
Fiona sent a photo.
[Photo: A glass of chardonnay.]
It’s been a big week, and this is the only thing holding me together right now
DECEMBER
Chapter EightSatoshi
Tasting today: Bruny Island lager, Tasmania, Australia.
Wine is wonderful, but sometimes you find a beer so good you get carried away – like this hazy lager, which is brilliant (at least until you drink too much, too fast).
‘Let me guess,’ I said to Isamu, as he walked through the door of Tsundoku at about five pm on a Wednesday in early December. ‘Anothermeeting in town?’
There was no way he could have misread my meaning, but, ‘Yes,’ was all he said, tone mild as he joined me behind the bar. ‘I might crash on your couch tonight, if it goes late or gets boozy.’
I slotted some clean burgundy glasses into the overhead rack. ‘It’s interesting to me, your business partner, that I’m not invited to any of these meetings.’
Isamu started slotting clean glasses into the rack too. ‘Not every part of the business involves you, Sato.’
‘Not every part of the business involves you either. Yet here you are. Again.’
I held out my hand to him. He looked at me for a long moment before he relinquished the glass he was holding.
I slotted it into the overhead rack. ‘I’m taking an extra night off a week to study. I sponsored Charlotte through CMS Intro, and if she passes Certified in April, we’ll have another person who can run the floor. I’ve got everything under control.’
It was true, too. Work and study were both running like clockwork. And there was no way a person could have Fiona Fisher sitting on their lap, face flushed from kissing, and say,No, stop, this is further than you wanted to go, when she tried to take her shirt off, unless they had things deeply, profoundly,aggressivelyunder control.
… even if they’d had to jerk off twice in quick succession after she left and the fantasy of what might have happened if they’d let their control slip hadn’t stopped playing in their head for weeks.
Isamu pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Sato…’
I was saved from another lecture by the Shaw sisters coming through the door. ‘Hi, Sadie,’ I said, practically elbowing Isamu out of the way. ‘Hi, Chess. Welcome back. I know you live in Sydney, but you’re here so often we’re going to have to start calling you a regular.’
‘Thanks,’ Chess said, pale cheeks flushed from the December heat.
‘What brings you down this time?’
‘She’s helping me look for a wedding dress.’ Sadie sat in the chair I’d pulled out for her. ‘I need another pair of eyes, and it felt insensitive to ask Fiona.’
I pulled out Chess’s chair and made a sound of vague agreement, ignoring the glint – halfway between suspicion and glee – in Sadie’s eyes. It wasn’t the first time she’d looked at me this way since she’d caught us in the corridor at Abode, but if Fiona wasn’t ready to talk about our Thursday night arrangement, I wasn’t about to jump the gun. ‘What can I get for you?’
I got them settled with a bottle of Bibliophile kyoho akai, then went back behind the bar. ‘See? Under control.’
‘I believe you.’ Isamu held up his hands. ‘But I’m here now. My meeting isn’t till half-past seven. I can spell you.’
Chess was looking at us curiously, so I switched to Japanese. ‘If you’re so insistent on working, you can take the next customer. But I don’t walk into the winery and say, “No, you’re working too much, Isamu, I’ll be monitoring the ferment today.” You can’t just barge in here and banish me from my own bar.’
‘I’m not banishing you. But I’ve got a couple of free hours, and you’ve got an exam to study for.’
I folded my arms.
He sighed. ‘Fine, Sato. Have it your way.’
