“Spending your birthday alone for the third year in a row will do it.”
“That’s what chased you away?”
“Partially. And that my personal life had become as cut-and-dried as my work relationships.” It’d occurred to her that negotiating for time with a submissive at the sex club had become as routine as nailing down the terms for her business contracts.
Knox had changed that. He’d changed everything. He’d shown her that he could handle all sides of her—his respect and devotion meant more to her than anything in the world. So his drunken ramblings had caught her off guard. And rather than dealing with it . . . she’d left.
Real mature, Mistress.
Shiori’s mom lovingly rubbed her forearm. “I knew you were struggling. After I stepped up at Okada officially—”
“You went from being my mom to being my boss,” Shiori finished. “It scared me. You’re the one person in our family I had a great relationship with, and I didn’t want to lose that.”
“So you backed off completely. Believe it or not, I understand.” She sighed. “We’re not so good at talking out personal issues like we are business issues, are we?”
“No. Finessing personal relationships is considered emotional manipulation. After dealing with Ojisan’s manipulation on both levels . . . I worried you’d become just like him.”
“I can’t deny that in some respects I am my father’s daughter. Which is why I’m glad you took a break.” Her mother leaned closer to hold Shiori’s face in her hands. “This is what I wanted for you.”
“Being pregnant and petrified about it at age thirty-five?”
She smiled. “No. I wanted you to experience life outside of the crushing job responsibilities you’d taken on at Okada. We both know if I would’ve told you to take some time off, you would’ve dug your heels in and worked even harder.”
“Have I always been that difficult and contrary?”
“Yes. But you come by that honestly.” Her mother dropped her hands but stayed in Shiori’s personal space so she couldn’t back away.
“If you wanted me to see what my life would be without Okada, then why did you send me to Mexico and Canada as Okada’s spokesperson?”
She shrugged. “Those were family owned companies we wanted to acquire. Having Nureki Okada’s granddaughter start the negotiations sent a message that we embraced the family-business philosophy.”
“So I was a pawn?”
“No. You were more of a rook.”
Great.
“Your presence also put our upper-level employees on notice that you were still crucial to the company. You always intended to return to Okada. Whether that meant you’d reclaim the position you left? I don’t think you have that figured out. But I do know if you’d truly walked away, when I asked you to negotiate on Okada’s behalf, you would’ve told me no.”
Shiori’s face heated. “That’s what I mean. I couldn’t say no to you. I was supposed to be figuring out my personal life, and instead I’m micromanaging my accounts from thousands of miles away because I don’t believe anyone could ever do my job as well as I do.” Her eyes smarted with tears. “This sabbatical to the States proved nothing. It changed nothing.”
Her mom clasped Shiori’s hands. “Wrong. It changed you. It’s shown you that you’re entitled to a life. Even in the midst of your nasty divorce, you carried on at work like you were invincible.”
“How else was I supposed to act? Broken?” She closed her eyes. “You know how corporate life is. Don’t show weakness. Don’t show emotion. Be the first worker in and the last one to leave—even if you’re the CEO’s granddaughter, maybe especially if you’re that. Take the minimum amount of personal time. Focus, focus, focus. Being a good employee is all that matters. If you show how hard you can work, you’ll move up the ladder and get bogged down with even more work. But hey, you can almost see the Tokyo skyline from your corner office if you look over the mountain of paperwork on your desk.
“So I ran away. Had my fun. Lived in the States and worked for my brother. Made some friends. Fell in love.” Needing to backtrack, she said, “I finally had some free time to pursue my love of art and learned that I don’t have untapped talent as a painter.”
Her mom laughed. “Same thing happened to me after you went off to school. I had it in my head I could create fancy tea cakes. Even when I devoted a fair amount of time to it . . . I didn’t improve. And because I didn’t improve, I didn’t enjoy it.” Her eyes searched Shiori’s. “Did you enjoy the process of painting even if you didn’t love the end product?”