Aji

The restaurant was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Raoul had picked her up precisely on time, and they made pleasant conversation about the recent art deal all the way there. Once in the doors, however, Christine forgot all about talking to Raoul for several minutes as she looked around. The décor was understated, but beautiful, with small indoor gardens designed after the Zen concept. Soft music played amidst the sound of small fountains tinkling. Every table had a sense of privacy, being one of only a couple of tables in its little nook.

A young hostess wearing furisode led them to a table towards the back of the restaurant, next to a Zen fountain. Lovely art was displayed on the walls. One shelf held a small collection of ceramic pottery: beautiful works, each of which appeared to have been broken, then glued back together with gold. The pieces held Christine's attention with magnetic force; she almost could not look away. Raoul followed her eyes.

"Pretty, isn't it? I have a collection at home. Shall we look at the menus first? I can't recommend the sashimi strongly enough. Or maybe you'd like the nigirizushi better – they have amazing presentation here."

Christine smiled her appreciation. "I've never had either, to be honest with you. My life doesn't exactly involve a lot of sushi of any sort."

"Ah. Then you have to try a few different things. If you wouldn't think I was being overbearing, maybe I could order a few samples for you?"

"That sounds awesome. Raoul, you're definitely not being overbearing. I have no idea what I'm doing here, and the only English on the menu is the Coke in the beverages section!" Christine gestured helplessly to the menu.

While Raoul ordered a series of dishes from a server who obviously recognized him, Christine reflected on what life would be like with Raoul. This is what it would be like. Life with Raoul would be quietly high-class: full of five-star restaurants and hotels where cost was never brought up. Like here, where there weren't even prices on the menu. She would have all the time she liked for her art. She had no doubt he would always find her passions "adventurous" and "extraordinary." There would be cultural adjustments to make, but she would make them over time. They'd have quarrels here and there, but the man was, quite simply, a genuinely affable and pleasant fellow. People would envy them, and her mother and Meg would be overcome with pride that she'd finally "settled down." It would be a good life, more comfortable than anything she had imagined possible. But her eyes flitted back to the broken pottery, over and over. Raoul was done ordering. They talked quietly of nothing for a while, enjoying the hot jasmine tea and waiting for the meal.

Christine formulated her plan of attack while they chatted and finally dove in. "You said you had some of this at home? It's very beautiful."

"It is called 'kintsukuroi' or 'kintsugi.' It's an ancient Japanese art. Something that has been broken, you see, still has the honor of its history. They mix a precious metal with a lacquer and repair the broken piece with it. Afterwards, it is even more beautiful than it was before. It's how I see the restoration and rehabilitation projects I work on. Everything carries the honor of its history, you know, but sometimes someone has to step in and save it." He sipped tea and caught her eyes warmly. "You understand that, too. It's why you draw what you draw. That's why I just had to get to know you better."

This rich and comfortable man suddenly grew ten sizes in Christine's estimation. Maybe her scheme wasn't as farfetched as she thought. There was still the sticky issue of their non-mutual attraction, but maybe that was ok. He might actually understand and sympathize with her cause.

"Yeah. You're not wrong. I just don't have the power or money to do anything about it, usually. In my work, I'm trying to show both the reality and the history – how they're both beautiful. Raoul…"

The server interrupted by bringing a tray covered in tiny plates with delicately artistic pieces of sashimi, nigirizushi, and other things Christine couldn't name.

"Oh, my! Look at this! I can't eat this! It's too gorgeous!" She exclaimed after the server had retreated.

Raoul laughed. "I thought the same thing the first time I came here. I think it's quite the insult not to eat it, though, so go ahead. And…you were about to say something?"

Christine took a small plate of sashimi and copied Raoul in adding a drop or two of sauce to it before fumbling it to her mouth with chopsticks and chewing thoughtfully.

"I…I was. Raoul, you're a wonderful guy. I like you a lot. Really. And what you're doing for me, for my work, it's like being Cinderella all of a sudden, but…"

"Uh-oh." He poked at his fish with his chopsticks and looked at her mournfully. "This sounds familiar. I've never been on the receiving end myself, before, but…it's not me, it's you? We should just be friends?"

"No. I wish it was that simple. I really do. What I'm about to say is probably way worse. But before I say anything, I have to decide how much I trust you."

"I'm a pretty trustworthy guy…"

"I know, but…this is different. Your company is still looking at that old opera house, aren't you?" Anxiety and the fear of the consequences of a single misstep lowered her voice and her eyes.

"We are. You're still worried about that place? Christine, you heard everything I just said; do you really think I'd tear it down? I promise you, we don't intend to do that. And we finally found out who owns it. This city council guy who retired from the SBI a few years ago with a bunch of decorations. He won't return our calls, and we can't…"

"The Daroga…" Christine muttered to herself.

"…figure out what he wants with… What?" He was looking sharply at her.

"Raoul, it's not him. What I'm about to tell you…please don't do anything with it. In fact, promise me, on your life…no, on your honor… that you won't act on what I'm telling you or tell anyone else." Christine's heart was pounding in her throat.

"Well, this is interesting. If it was anyone else, I'd be a ruthless businessman and find some way to get it out of you without making promises I'd then have to keep. But… Ok. I promise. I won't do anything with whatever you're about to tell me."

Christine wrung her napkin in her hands and vacillated back and forth. "What if I told you that, if you buy that building and you do anything with it, no matter how great what you do it, you'll be destroying something even more precious than what you create? What if I told you that you'd be saving the body of the theater, but killing its soul?"

"I'd say you're not making any sense. That was my plan, you know. I thought you'd be pretty happy with it, all things being equal. I actually thought of you when I was pitching that to the team."

"It makes sense if you know what I know. But just telling you this…I could be destroying something." She looked at him beseechingly, trying to find the line between telling him enough and betraying Erik's trust. "It's like those caves. I mean, the ones people discovered. They went in and touched everything and burned torches and they killed the formations."

"Alright. I hear you. What is it I'd be destroying?" He sounded more fascinated than skeptical.

"A person." She closed her eyes, mentally apologizing to Erik. "My teacher."

"He lives there, doesn't he." Raoul sat back with the air of a man who has just had a great mystery solved for him. "We've looked at the utility records and we saw that there was electricity and water going into the place. We sent a PI to look into it." He paused, seeing panic bloom in Christine's eyes. "But all he found was that the place is locked down like a fortress, and that almost every night some woman goes in by the front door. That's you, isn't it?"

"Yes." Her voice was small. She noticed that her hands were shaking.

"I wondered. Well, well. But I don't hear the 'dear john' in this. You were definitely opening a 'dear john' conversation there."

"I love him."

The silence that dropped played on and on. The Zen fountain bubbled near them sweetly. The sounds of the restaurant hummed unconcernedly along.

"Why did you come here with me tonight, then?" His voice and words were careful, those of a man who is trying desperately not to start a chain reaction.

"To see if I could trust you. I mean, you can destroy us. Him. It wouldn't even be hard. But you can also save everything. You could help. And if I didn't try, you'd come in and ruin everything without even knowing it. At least, I thought, if I talked to you, there's a chance." Tears were very near now. She was torturously aware that she might have just brought the roof down on everything she loved.

More silence kept her heart in her throat, but eventually, Raoul stuck another piece of fish in his mouth and pointed his chopsticks at her.

"You should be a speculator, Christine. You take risks. Huge risks, but well calculated. You have good instincts."

Air rushed into her lungs. It felt as though her heart had stopped beating, and now just started up again. She selected another morsel and ate it.

"So you aren't mad with me?"

His grin was rueful, and not at all happy. "I won't pretend I'm not…disappointed. I stand by what I said: you are a beautiful, talented, extraordinary woman and I was hoping we might spark. Now, at least, I understand why I never felt anything from you."

Christine looked down, feeling guilty, but much safer.

"I'm not a vengeful person. I'm not going to back out of promoting your art; it's definitely worth it. But there's a real problem around that opera house. I've put a lot of resources into it already. My entire team is excited about it. What do you propose I do? Just abandon it?"

"I don't want you to abandon it. I want you to…wait. I want you to wait, because there's even more I know that you don't."

"I'm intrigued."

"You're going to have to stay intrigued for a bit. I'll just say that if you can be patient, it will pay off. Ok?"

"Why do I need to wait? You know the man, obviously. You could easy this up quite a bit, if you wanted to."

"Look, I've trusted you. Now it's your turn to trust me. Me and my great instincts, right?"

"Sure. But it makes a businessman nervous." He certainly did not look nervous. He looked relaxed, leaning back in his seat, popping sushi rolls into his mouth contentedly.

"Stick with me a little longer, and I'll show you something that will make you way less nervous. Do you like opera, Raoul?" She lifted her tea and watched him over the rim of her cup.

"I can't say I actually know anything about it. Always seemed a little out of my waters, you know?"

"Yeah. A lot of people feel that way. Do me a favor," She paused and made a wry face, "Another favor. Listen to some opera. Listen to Lakme, by Delibes, specifically. Get to know it. When you think you know it pretty well, call me. I do want to be friends, Raoul. I know it's as trite and cliché, but I think the world of you. Is it possible we can still be friends after all this?"

"Only if I'm lucky," he quipped.

The rest of dinner went swimmingly. Raoul used his blithe and easy manner to turn the subject to more pleasant topics and they became friends after a fashion. She could tell he still 'fancied' her, but she no longer worried that she'd gone too far in her revelations. If his company had sent out a PI, Erik had been in real danger of discovery – especially since she had gotten him to take the mask off. Her blood ran cold just imagining what might have happened.

Once she was dropped off at home, satisfied with a job well done, Christine went back to plotting. Managing Raoul was one thing. Figuring out how to be in love with Erik was quite another. Now that she knew her heart, she wanted to give it to him. Before she could do that, there were things she needed to understand and others he needed to be able to see without doubting. It would be a long, long fight. She was looking forward to every battle won.