I have no concept of time, clearly.
“I haven’t told Mr. Mathers yet because he’s so busy with this project, but I guess I should when we get back home. I’ll need to arrange my maternity leave anyway. Last time he very generously offered me six months with pay, but I only took three.”
“I remember. He gave you a bonus to make up for the other three.”
“Ah, yes. Happened right before my birthday, so that was nice.”
I nodded. One thing about Ian, he’s loyal and kind to his employees to a fault. Granted, Valerie is one of his only personal employees he’s responsible for, but I don’t doubt the rest who work for the Mathers are equally treated. Don’t know yet. I’ve only recently been added as an official employee. Once I get my paws on those personal files, I’ll know whether to yell at him or not. At the very least, when Ian takes over the family business one day, his little woman will do everything in her power here to make sure the employees are treated well. It’s sort of my thing, you know.
“I’m sure it won’t be a problem for him.”
“Well, I know one thing. I don’t want to be on leave when you two finally decide to tie the knot. I want to be there for every moment he freaks out over it.”
She’s joking. I know she is, and yet a comment like that throws me off my guard. “What makes you think that’s happening before you get back before maternity leave?” If and when we officially get engaged, it will be a nice, long engagement. Valerie’s second kid will be in nursery school before anyone hears any wedding bells. I’m feeling a little ill thinking about it – both the passage of time and the whole getting married thing.
Poor Valerie. I think I’ve freaked her out. “Nothing! Not in particular. Sorry, it was a stupid joke.”
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t worry, though, I’m sure you’ll be one of the first to know if and when that’s happening.” I force a smile. “Ian wouldn’t be able to help himself.”
“Yes.” Good to see her relaxing again. I don’t want to be the bitchy girlfriend everyone fears. “He really loves you. Every other week he asks me what he should get you for a present.”
“Oh, so you’re the one responsible for my collection of spoons from all fifty states?”
“Perhaps.”
After dinner I go back up to my room. Are you shocked to find out that Ian still hasn’t contacted me?
I’m officially freaked out.
This isn’t like him. I don’t need to know his every movement, and God knows we’ve gone days without knowing where the other is due to life and work, but this is different. We had plans today. We’re in a foreign country together. Ian never ignores my texts for this long, even when we’re having communication breakdowns. We could be so angry at each other that the world is rocking from our bullshit, and he would still respond to my texts with quick, terse words. We’re not fighting at all right now. In fact, we had been looking forward to this trip for the past month while the plans were solidified. So what fucking gives?
I can’t take it anymore. I go downstairs to the front desk and find the first person I can who speaks English. That would be the night auditor’s assistant, a woman small in stature but big in vocal confidence.
I ask her to either find me Ian or at least someone who might know where he is. After consulting with her coworkers and on the phone – in Japanese, of course, which I can’t understand – she comes back with a room number. It’s the room Junri is staying in.
“You may go up.” She points to a private elevator. “Although I do not know if she’s in right now. If so, there is a standing order that she does not mind if either you or Mr. Mathers stop by as needed.”
I thank her. I don’t know how Junri will find Ian – or why she would know, since she was with me and not him – but perhaps she can use her connections and language skills to put this shit to rest. Of course, my head is in worst case scenario mode… which means I spend my ride up figuring out how much a yakuza ransom might cost.
Chapter 5
IAN
Where the fuck am I, and why do I feel like I’ve been slammed by an armored truck?
My eyes refuse to open. Beeps and hums surround me, but they don’t make any sense. What’s beeping? The fuck is that humming? Why does it smell like sterile ass?
Fuck me. My senses are coming back, and I hate myself for every single one.
My mouth tastes like ass. Everything sounds like ass. I feel like a giant ass. I’m afraid to open my eyes and see some large, pimply, wrinkled ass hovering over my face – that’s how good this day is.