Queen of Love

“We’ll get you in tip-top shape if you’re willing to put in the work,” Paulina assured her. “Which, it sounds like, you are. How about we go over jikoushoukai again? Now, I’ll start. Konnichiwa, Paulina to moshimasu…”

This was the best way for Genevieve to learn a language: jumping right into light conversation and figuring out the grammar along the way. Maybe asking questions and beseeching better vocabulary, but the textbooks and rote memorization were best left for her apps and the self-study she now did in her hotel suite when she had some downtime… and she needed to forget women who may not be available.

That’s why she hired Paulina, an independent Japanese tutor for expats in Tokyo. She had come highly recommended by one of Genevieve’s friends and was even willing to meet in Shibuya so Genevieve wouldn’t need to take a car or public transportation anywhere. I’ll eventually try out the world-famous train system… Genevieve had always loved trains and subways, but her name and lifestyle meant a private car was more practical. The fact they had their first meeting in a busy café, where Genevieve was thrust right into using Japanese at the counter while they went over the menu together? Thrilling!

It was two hours well spent. Once Paulina left, Genevieve rehearsed how to order tea from the counter. On her way up to the register, she noted the chocolate cakes, eclairs, and mini-donuts in the cold case. Maybe some other time.

The mother and daughter were gone from the bench when Genevieve returned. Since this place was so busy, though, another patron had immediately taken their spot.

Genevieve swore she was seeing things.

“Ah…” She placed her tray with the small teapot and cup on her table. “Good evening.”

Aya looked up from her phone, which she texted furiously on until she realized someone wanted to slide into the seat next to her. “Holy shit.”

That shocked delivery – in English, no less – amused Genevieve more than Aya’s unexpected presence. “I know this is a grand coincidence, although when you think about it, the geographical size of Shibuya isn’t that grand in and of itself…” She sat in her seat, hands warming around the teapot. “But, wow.”

“I, uh…” Aya muttered something in Japanese while she put her phone away and searched for her briefcase. After a moment of panic settled over her, she realized it was at her feet on the floor. “It’s a small world.”

She looks so different from the other night. Aya was in her work clothes. Her office jacket and trousers were tailored to her body, and the light blue blouse beneath paired nicely with the coating of office-fresh makeup on her face – most of it hidden behind a solid black mask. Even with the mask, I immediately knew it was her. It was her eyes. Her mannerisms. Oh, and her hair, which was styled differently for Aya’s professional life, but still an instant attraction to Genevieve’s astute gaze.

“Come here often?”

Aya nodded. “When I’m in the area. It’s a quick place to get a coffee and snack before heading home.” She gestured in the direction of Shibuya Station. “Transfer.”

“To Meguro, of course.”

“You been there yet?”

“No. I haven’t left Shibuya much at all. Unless you count Shinjuku.”

“I do not.”

It took Genevieve a moment to realize that was sarcasm. “Don’t let me stop you from getting your coffee. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Huh?”

Genevieve had forgotten Aya’s mastery of English idioms may not be as keen as hers. “I’ll watch your table for you.”

“Don’t know.” Aya marked her place with her briefcase. “Might not be able to hold yourself back from looking at the residences I’ve researched for you today.”

“So you got the news?”

Aya was up, careful to not come too close to Genevieve as she squeezed by. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

She didn’t give Genevieve a chance to answer before heading to the line. Now that’s an ass. Genevieve had seen some fine views before, but Aya knew how to wear her tailored trousers. Denim, cotton, linen… I bet she’d shine in them all. Leather, too. Definitely leather.

Genevieve had to pull herself together. If she kept having these inappropriate thoughts about her real estate agent… well, she might push Aya away. She’ll work on my project in the office, but it will be her male coworkers I see face to face. Genevieve didn’t want to make Aya uncomfortable – she also didn’t want to lose access to that charming smile, unbridled passion…

And that gorgeous ass. Naturally.

She removed her hat and propped it against the wall beside her. When Aya moved out of sight, Genevieve pulled her compact out of her purse and touched up her makeup, as well as her hair. She would be damned if she looked like a disheveled pauper when attempting to remind Aya why they should be getting back into bed again.

She swore she didn’t take too long. Yet here Aya came, depositing a tray with coffee and a slice of chocolate cake on the table beside Genevieve.

“You restrained yourself,” Aya said as she sat down.

”…Huh?” Of course, I did not grab your ass. What kind of woman do you take me for? Genevieve wanted her ass grabbed, not necessarily the other way around!