Queen of Love

Chapter 27

“Sugiya-san!” Takatani called her name shortly after he returned from lunch the following Tuesday. “Can you come see me, please? As soon as possible!”

Aya looked up from her paperwork. For the whole morning, she’d researched two-bedroom manshons in east Tokyo for a client who was moving in from Osaka. He was due to start touring at the end of the week, and the Sword of Damocles threatened to chop off Aya’s head if she didn’t have at least three perfect showings available. Even if she didn’t do the tours herself, whoever she passed the information to those who would either love or hate her.

So why did her boss have to interrupt her concentration?

“Am I in trouble?” she asked Mr. Ishida at the desk across from hers. “I’ve stayed out of the press, right?”

He shrugged. “Can never tell with him sometimes. I’ve been working here longer than you and I still can’t tell if he’s happy or upset with me. Ganbatte, Sugiya.”

She closed her screen and stood up. “Ganbarimasu,” she muttered in response to her coworker’s wishes of good luck.

Takatani had sat down at his desk, his jacket up on the coat rack and his ridiculous boater hat flat on the futon couch up against the wall. He had barely logged back into his computer when Aya entered and he was obliged to look up at her as if he had already forgotten his request for her presence.

Then, his eyes lit up.

“Ah, Sugiya-san, shut the door would you?” He pulled out his pack of Seven Stars and toyed with one of the cigarettes that he wouldn’t dare smoke inside. Not anymore. Not sense the building superintendent gave them all an earful a few years ago. “This isn’t 1995 anymore,” the exasperated man in a suit had said, “please take your smoke breaks in the designated area.”

Once Aya had shut the door, she sat down before her boss, prepared for praise. Or another talking to about her personal life.

“How are things?” Takatani leaned back in his chair, unlit cigarette in his mouth. “Things are going well with Lady Liu still, I hear.”

Aya’s shoulders stiffened. “I hope my personal life has not caused the company any more problems, shachou.”

“No, no. If anything, business is up because of you!”

”Is that so?”

“Finding that perfect balance between marketing the hell out of it while looking like we’re respectfully staying out of the limelight – especially given the nature of your relationship – is a fine line, Sugiya-san. I can’t say what you’re doing but keep at it. Already we’ve had a couple more Singaporean clients come in because of her!”

“That is interesting, yes.” Aya thought back to everyone at the party, including the ones she had yet to meet. “May I ask who? Maybe it’s someone I know.”

“Some guy named Nick Cheng, for one. Not sure how you would know him. He’s older than me! And I don’t think he’s in Lady Liu’s circle. No, you see, how it works is these rich people see one of their own is shopping through us and want some of that pie, too. It’s like the stock market. Play the game with the right investment firm, and people consider that firm to be a good luck charm. So here they come!”

“I see.”

“Do you? Hm.” Takatani leaned forward, his unlit cigarette shaking in Aya’s direction. “You’re a good agent, but it takes more than a skill in sales and, in our case, good English to make it all the way. I told you promotions were in consideration this year. As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours as long as you keep bringing in more business.”

Aya had to run those words through her brain twice. “That is very generous, shachou.” She bowed in her seat, head still hanging as she said, “Thank you for the consideration. I will continue to do my best.”

“Ah, come on. Enough of that shit. You know I don’t like asskissers.”

Aya sat back up. “You know how it is, shachou.”

“Yeah, yeah, your boss gives you some acknowledgment, and your forehead is on the floor like I’m the damn daimyo. You think I don’t remember?” He gazed longingly at his cigarette. “I remember other things, too! Like how I used to be able to smoke these damn things in my own office. How tragic is this, anyway?”

“Cultural expectations aside, shachou,” Aya continued, “I do want you to know I take my job seriously, and I have no intention of walking away from this career, regardless of how my personal life heads.”

“Hm? You think I’m worried you’re gonna ryousai kenbo me?” His laughter echoed in his office – and in Aya’s head. His reference to the old Meiji practice of “good wife, wise mother,” which still had a stranglehold on Japanese family and work culture, was exactly what Aya had thought. She was old enough to remember when being a woman working one’s way up the corporate ladder was like ice skating in high heels. When every company assumes you’re going to marry and become a housewife out the gate, it’s tough. Aya often wondered if her masculine appearance and demeanor were what helped her get to where she was today. “I’m not some stupid, knuckle-dragging caveman. The odds of you doing that are slim to none! Especially at your age. What are you, forty-five?”

Aya resisted the urge to cross her arms. “Forty-one.”

“Ah, hontou? How about that. Truth be told, I’m more worried about you hauling ass to another company or, with your girlfriend’s pocketbook, starting your own! Let alone take your new, fancy foreign clientele with you. Why would I risk that? I like the money you’re making me, Sugiya. So, keep up the good work and consider yourself on the fast track to some nice promotions. Oh, and I’m bumping up your pay.”

The way he so casually said that was almost lost on Aya. “Ex… cuse me?”

“You heard me! How much as you making now? 400,000 a month? Plus yearly commission bonuses?” He twiddled his cigarette in his hand.