Queen of Love

“Genevieve Liu.” She bowed her head in greeting to both Mr. Ishida and Aya, who still stood back in the wake of such captivating beauty. “Please do not mind my bodyguard. He follows me everywhere.”

Aya had barely noticed the large man in sunglasses standing out on the catwalk. He did not enter with Genevieve, who left the door ajar and stepped inside the small bar with purpose. Mr. Ishida instantly greeted her with professional kindness. Aya nodded in acknowledgment, her throat dry and feet frozen to the floorboards.

”Ms. Liu,” Mr. Ishida said in English, “thank you so much for meeting us here. I am Shotaro Ishida. Ah, this is…” He motioned for Aya to come back from the bar. His calvary. Her nightmare. “Ms. Aya Sugiya. She has the best English among us.”

“My boss flatters me, but his is perfectly fine as well.” Aya barely got those English words out of her mouth. She was almost afraid she’d say something stupid, like, “You pretty. Me like you.” Absolute last thing she should do was slobber over the wealthy Singaporean client, but at forty-one, Aya still had a lot to learn, apparently. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Liu.”

Was it all in her head, or did Genevieve continue to look at her when Mr. Ishida was right there? Aya would know. She could barely tear her own eyes away from the illustrious amber twinkling above the bold and black face mask that perfectly matched hair and dress. Although Aya couldn’t see beneath the mask, she detected a large smile that probably charmed every person Genevieve Liu came across.

“What a lovely place.” Genevieve stepped past Aya the moment it seemed they’d be trapped in that look forever. Aya shook the attraction off her. It was time to work. “It’s larger than the photos and description led me to believe.”

Already, Mr. Ishida had lost every thread Genevieve weaved behind her. He looked to Aya with such simple desperation that she had no choice. She was taking over this tour and answering every question Ms. Liu might have about Ladylike and the building it inhabited.

“We are capable of doing quite a bit with the space.” Aya did her best to mind her accent, which was easier said than done when it had been so long since she regularly spoke English. Clients from the West didn’t mind the accent as much. Some actually found it charming, which both relieved and irked Aya, who did her best with confounding letters like “R” and “L.” Yet some clients from the rest of Asia expected impeccable words spoken by influential people. That was especially true for wealthy old money from the likes of Taiwan, Hong Kong, Indonesia… and most definitely, Singapore. Most of them didn’t speak a lick of Japanese, either. “The allowed capacity of the space is twelve customers along with two employees.”

“I think you’ll find I am quite familiar with small bars,” Genevieve said, staring at the frosted window separating the space from the fire exit. “I own five successful ones across Asia. My most successful one is in Taipei. Ten people maximum, and it brings in five thousand a night. Dollars, that is.”

Aya quickly converted that to yen in her head. “Impressive.”

“Of course, margins are small in the hospitality industry.” A finger wiped up some dust from the windowsill. “Even more so around here, I hear. Bar life in Tokyo has taken a nosedive with the pandemic.”

“We are expected to see a resurgence in tourism this summer. Tourists often come to Ni-chome. It’s popular on the internet.”

“Yes, and I fully intend to have a place opened around here by July.”

Aya’s eyes widened. “That’s a very short amount of time.”

“Which is why I want to purchase something soon.” Genevieve tested the stability of the beam nearest her. “I’ve waited long enough to expand into Japan. A ladies’ bar is a perfect way for me to get my feet wet in this lovely city.” She glanced in Aya’s direction, completely ignoring Mr. Ishida. “Are you familiar with them, Ms…”

“Sugiya. And yes.”

”Ms. Sugiya.” Genevieve absorbed that name before continuing. “Interesting. Then you know how they can struggle even in Japan’s drinking culture.”

“I am aware, yes.” Aya figured it was safe enough to reveal that about her to the client. Genevieve was, after all, looking for a place she could update into a lesbian bar and social spot. That had been clear in the email Mr. Ishida shared with Aya two weeks ago, when Genevieve first contacted the agency about this building. When I researched her in my own time, I discovered a woman who attempted to scrub her girlfriends from the internet. Yet a few photos lingered on Western blogs. Stolen kisses on yachts. Candid caresses beneath the eaves of buildings. Cuddling in Italian sports cars… Genevieve had been linked to a who’s-who of Asian women who were either openly gay or halfway out of the closet. While Aya was always happy to help a woman like her, she never expected their interactions to be anything but professional.

“This place will need an entire gut job.” Genevieve silently counted on her fingers everything she wanted done with the remnants of Ladylike. “That includes a new name. Do you have the foot traffic reports on hand?”

Mr. Ishida procured a sheet of paper from his briefcase. “Before twenty-nineteen,” he said, passing the paper to Aya. “And after.”

Aya handed the paper to Genevieve. Almost immediately, it fluttered to the floor, where both women knelt down to grab it for themselves. Aya was in such a hurry to be more professional that she clamped her hand right on top of Genevieve’s.

Oh, God. Her lament led to sweat on her brow and a lump in her throat. It didn’t matter how quickly she pulled away her hand and apologized. She had still touched the client – and the client was nothing but heavy eyelids and flashy lashes in her direction. Oh, shit. There it was. The more appropriate curse. Because that close-up look into the soul lurking behind those amber eyes was enough to make Aya choke on her spit.

“No worries.” Genevieve stood, paper dangling from her fingers. Aya slowly stood up as well, their mutual gaze unwavering. “Thank you.”

Aya bit her lip and finally looked away. Mr. Ishida was completely unaware of them.

I’m in big trouble. That must have been true because Aya had no idea if she thought that in English or Japanese. The biggest troubles – especially women – always muddled the words in her head.