Queen of Love

“Kanpai,” Genevieve repeated with a smile. “Did I tell you I was studying Japanese while I was here? I’m so embarrassed at how nonproficient I am in your language. If I’m to own property in Tokyo, it’s only right that I improve my Japanese. How else will I talk to the locals to get a feel for how they’re enjoying themselves?”

Aya had not been prepared for the onslaught of information. “It’s true not many people around here speak fluent English, or Mandarin, for that matter. We’re a bit insular that way.” That was putting it mildly. Compared to the Chinese-speaking countries – and even Korea – Japan lagged behind in English proficiency. There’s a conversation school on every corner, but even my own boss can barely tell you his birthday and address in English. Fine thing for a company that purported its ability to work with foreigners, most of whom spoke some degree of English. Aya had been dismayed but not surprised when she joined Atsukatta and eventually negotiated a stronger salary because she could talk circles around most of her coworkers.

“Japanese is such a beautiful language, too. When I was a girl, dramas and pop music were all the rage, like Korean is today. I had front-row seats to see Namie Amuro in Taipei. Must have been 2004. Sheesh, so long ago now.”

Aya nodded. Does she have any idea how much the gays love Namie-chan? Used to be Aya couldn’t pop into a girl bar without one of the diva’s concerts playing on the TV. “Those days feel like yesterday.”

Was this what she was supposed to do? Buddy up to Genevieve and make her feel the camaraderie between their two cultures? Because if there was one thing that Aya dreaded, it was guessing what these rich clients wanted from her, let alone the ones from the more southeastern parts of Asia. Does she identify as Singaporean first and foremost? Chinese? Malay? Well-traveled and cultured women like Genevieve lived wherever they fancied. Sure, she probably had her family property back in Singapore, but when an heiress swam in her inheritance, she could live in Taipei today and Seoul tomorrow. Tokyo could have been a mere steppingstone between the two territories. How was Aya, whose overseas experiences were limited, supposed to relate to that to make a damn sale?

“Tell me, Ms. Sugiya…” Genevieve sounded like a delicate movie star when she addressed Aya. “What led you to learn such impeccable English? Your accent is notably Japanese, but in a charming way.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Backhanded, but polite? Grin and bear it. Something Aya had done her whole life, whether it was in response to clients like Genevieve, or her mother asking why she didn’t have a boyfriend yet. “Like most kids, I grew up learning it in school and taking lessons in the evening. When I reached middle school, my mother told me I could either keep going to English tutoring, or I could go to juku. Ah, I mean cram school.” When Genevieve nodded, sipping her drink, Aya continued. “I picked the English school. I had a knack for it. Next thing I knew, it was the academic talent dictating everything I did in school.”

“Did you study abroad?”

“Yes. I spent a year in California during college, then returned after getting my bachelor’s. Grad school. I specialized in English and Japanese translations at UCLA.”

“How fascinating!” Genevieve leaned in closer. Never before had Aya hooked a client so effortlessly into drinks and conversation. “How does that lead to a career in real estate?”

“It’s always someone you know. I began in another firm because one of my friend’s uncles needed an English speaker on his roster. I needed a job. I learned the business as I went. Eventually made my way to Atsukatta, which as you know, specializes in English communication for our clients.”

“We’re already back to your spiel.” With a sigh, Genevieve leaned back into her plush chair. “Fine. Let’s hear it. That’s why we’re here, of course. So you can get me relaxed and ply me with why I should invest in Japanese real estate.”

“I…”

“Trust me, Ms. Sugiya, I’ve heard them all. I’ve been buying properties throughout Asia since I was old enough to sign my name. Hospitality is merely my niche. I knew by the end of our walkthrough earlier today whether I’d buy the Shinjuku building or not. Hell, I knew before I arrived. The walkthrough was a formality, mostly so I could confirm there were no glaring issues. Naturally, I’ll let an inspector tell me the real story at the next stage.”

“If you have any further questions about the area, I’d be happy to answer.”

“Do you know the gay neighborhood well, Ms. Sugiya? Because you must know that’s my interest in creating a bar in the one place in Tokyo most likely to attract that kind of traffic.”

Aya pursed her lips as she held back her confusion. I can’t tell if she’s overtly flirting with me because it’s a game to her, or because she’s genuinely interested. Aya could handle the games. Genevieve wouldn’t be the first queer client to put the moves on her, although this was the first Asian who wasn’t Japanese like Aya. For some reason, the Canadians are the friskiest. Aya had never slept with a client, no matter how charming they were. Or how beautiful.

Because Genevieve was both. Which meant she was trouble.

“I’m well familiar with the business prospects of Shinjuku’s most notable neighborhoods. It’s one of our specialties.”

“The neighborhood was already on the decline before the pandemic hit it,” Genevieve said, looking away. “That’s clear from the data my assistants have put together for me, and that’s clear from my own walk through the neighborhood. I know it was the afternoon on a weekday, but… you would expect more people out and about. The cafés and bookstores alone should have a sizable crowd if it’s to be financially feasible.”

“It’s the perfect opportunity to put your own stamp on things,” Aya said. “As much as the locals may be loathed to admit it, sometimes we need foreign interest to rejuvenate an area.”

“Quite. After all, the local Tokyoites can’t open their own businesses and attract customers until someone like me can expend the cash to get things started again.” A mighty yet feminine sigh shook the chair. “Don’t get me wrong. Experience tells me that the locals dictate the style of bar or club I open. Tokyo is no different. When I walk into that space, I envision a small but chic parlor where regulars can meet their friends and have a nice chat with the experienced bartender on duty. A mix of national beers on tap as well as foreign imports keeps everyone happy. Tell me, Ms. Sugiya. Which Japanese beer is your preferred drink?”

“Uh…” Nobody had ever asked Aya that before. Nobody outside of her coworkers when the Asahi vs. Sapporo vs. Kirin debates began in earnest. Only when we’re already drunk. “These days, I don’t drink much beer, but if you’re asking which one I would get in a bar on my personal time…”

“Yes. Be honest. I consider you a local source at the moment.”

Aya considered her options carefully. “You can’t go wrong with stocking Sapporo. Everyone has their opinions about Asahi because they’re almost synonymous with Japanese beer, and I’ve seen some frightening verbal altercations about Kirin. But nobody except the die-hard fans say anything about Sapporo beers. If you can only stock one, I’d make it that one. You’d have the fewest complaints.”

“Ah, but success says that I should stock all three. Which I will when I purchase the building and remodel that space to my tastes.”

Aya perked up at that. “So you’re seriously thinking about it?”

“Of course I am. Did you not hear me? I said I had already made my decision before I showed up. I only wanted to ensure there were no tricks to be had.”

“We are a top-rated agency in the…”

”Ms. Sugiya, stop.” Exasperated with Aya’s constant upsell, Genevieve knocked back some of her drink and flashed a fiercely feminine smile. “Relax for a few minutes. You’re here on business, but you’re off the clock as far as I’m concerned. You’re my source of socializing tonight. I’m so woefully behind on making Japanese friends. Which is probably why my language skills leave much to be desired.”