Inadequate Warning

I wake up the next morning still on the couch, still in my dress, and facing a still sleeping Kai. The sun is already up, just over the horizon, casting a golden glow through the windows. Kai rests on his side, arm outstretched to support his head, his chest rising and falling with gentle breaths. I wish he snored or slept with his mouth gaping open, drool pooling under him, but he doesn't. He looks as if he's just closed his eyes for a moment and in the next second they'll be open, as sharp as ever.

It's such a deviation from his normal routine that I allow myself to feel a soft tenderness for him. He must be exhausted after everything that happened yesterday to sleep so late.

Standing up and stretching to warm up tired and stiff muscles, I pick up my heels and travel into my bedroom for a quick shower. Seeing the smudged makeup, knotted hair, and wrinkled dress in the mirror, I laugh, imagining the disappointment of Gian and Olivier if they ever saw how I treated their works of art. I would never hear the end of it.

The hot spray of the shower does my body good and gets me going for the day. It was supposed to be a day to relax after the party before getting back into my schedule with Romero, but who knows now. With the addition of Mathilda thrown at us, we'll probably have to adjust everything. Thinking of this as I wipe the foggy mirror clean, I recognize that hungry look in my eye. It's been a while since a project has invigorated me as much as this. I'm eager to plan our next move.

Kai's still sleeping when I emerge from getting ready. He hasn't moved, not even a muscle since he laid down last night. Even his shoes are still on his feet. I shake my head at him. It's what he gets for wearing himself out all the time.

Walking into the kitchen, I poke around in the fridge to see what Rei's left in the way of breakfast. While I've never seen Kai actually eat breakfast – he only ever has a cup of coffee in the mornings - I know there has to be something to work with. After a thorough search, I give up and gather the supplies for an omelet. It won't be Rei's quality, but there are a few things I know how to do, as long as I keep it simple.

Ten minutes later, I set the plate in front of Kai, along with a cup of black coffee. He hasn't stirred a bit and I might have been worried if he wasn't breathing so evenly. Gently, I shake his shoulder, calling his name until his expression shifts, tensing as he wakes up. Immediately, his eyes blink open and I retract my hand.

Kai's gaze flies around, probably struggling to take in the unexpected setting of the living room versus his bedroom as I had earlier. Finally, they adjust, focusing on me standing over him.

His eyebrows pinch in the middle and he frowns. "Is it morning?"

"Yeah," I answer softly. His voice is so deep. "You slept late,"

He sits up and cracks his neck, rotating it and his shoulders to loosen up. Then he just sits there, a vacant stare on his face.

I point to the plate. "I made you breakfast. Spinach and egg omelet. And I think I got the coffee right,"

Still, he remains silent and motionless. Figuring he needs to wake up on his own, I step away to prepare my own breakfast. After a moment of watching the eggs cook, I look up and see he's taking small bites of the omelet.

"I hope you like it," I call out.

He hums in reply, taking another bite.

"I've been told I can't cook. But since you say you don't like anything, maybe we're the perfect match,"

"It's eggs, what's there to possibly mess up?"

I turn the stove off after slipping the finished product on the plate. Picking up a cup of tea I found in the cabinet, I join him in the living room. "You'd be surprised,"

"Maybe if you ask Rei, he'll take pity on you," Kai comments, leaning back on the couch with his coffee now that his plate is empty.

"That would be nice," I laugh, "and then I could surprise you with dinner,"

He stares at me, cup pressed to his lips. I realize how my words sound and turn back to my plate.

"I didn't mean it like that -" I start, unable to help myself. "I meant it as like...friends,"

"Friends?"

"Yeah. And not just you but Spencer and Kenny and Mariah. And my parents. I can surprise everyone with dinner."

"So you don't want to surprise me?"

"You'd get an invite,"

"To your special surprise dinner? That will not be a surprise, because you just told me about it, and won't be all that special because it'll be my personal chef that taught you and I've already eat food prepared by you,"

I pout. Why does he have to ruin everything? "Drink your coffee,"

"So, you're not a morning person,"

"Excuse you, I'm a great person any time of day," I stick my tongue out. "Just as you're difficult at every time of day. Which is why people, like me, react the way they do,"

"Maybe we are the perfect match,"

I know he's toying with me. I know it. I don't even need to look at him. It's dripping from the smug tone he's infused into every word he's said. Still, my heart picks up as he turns my comment back on me. Words I had said jokingly now sound so ironic. Like he's laughing at the thought.

With a stiff shrug, I move on. "So, what's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"For Mathilda and your grandfather?"

"I've been awake for twenty minutes," he reminds me. "At what point do you think I've had time to work up a plan?"

"I don't know. You just seem to be the type that's always scheming. Don't these things come to you in your sleep?"

He shakes his head. "No. I have very detailed, deliberate plans that don't just come about by happenstance."

I take the last bite of my breakfast. "Detailed and deliberate plans like me?" The fork slides from my lips slowly as he glares, unamused.

"I think I liked you better when you were nervous all the time,"

I laugh loudly at that. It's a lie and I know it. The only time he responds well to me is when I don't overthink it and just act on what I know to be true. He respects confidence more than anything else.

"What do you think Soichiro's plan was last night? Doesn't it create confusion to introduce Mathilda the way he did?"

Kai considers this. "Most of them will be familiar in how marriages of convivence work. I know he's been dismissing you to the partners before this," His lips screw into a frown. "Honestly, I can't believe I didn't see this before. It's exactly what I did with you,"

"You had your focus on other things,"

"The wrong things,"

"No," I set my cup down. "Other things. That's why you have Romero and me, to catch the things you can't. We're supposed to be watching this situation for you," Kai looks at me, catching my contrite tone. "I'm sorry I didn't do my job,"

Ever since Mathilda walked into the engagement party in front of all of Kai's associates and his conversation with Rick in the car, I couldn't get rid of the deep feeling of guilt. I got caught up in the pageantry of it all and performed inadequately in the areas it mattered. I ignored the feeling last night but it's undeniable now.

"It won't happen again," I promise. I expect a lecture similar to the one I received in his office but it doesn't come.

"From now on we'll have to keep a close eye on both of them," Kai carries on. "I have a feeling Mathilda is meant as a distraction, designed to keep us from focusing on him. She'll probably appear in places you least expect her, so be prepared to deal with that."

"How? Is there a rule book for dealing with your fiancé's fiancée?"

"Don't worry about it. Just do your best," he says as he picks up his empty dishes.

I sputter, "What does that mean?" I follow him into the kitchen, putting my things in the sink after him.

"Listen," he turns to me, stepping around me in the tight space between the sink and the island, "I let him find a hole in my defense. It won't happen again. Just do what you've been doing, improve in the areas you said you're going to improve and let me handle the rest,"

"But, Kai -"

He's already retreating down his end of the suite, around the corner of the hall, and out of my sight. Just as I feel we've taken two steps closer to our goal, he veers onto a different path. It's difficult to keep up.

I'm pulled in different directions. One part of me wants to find him and force him to include me in what he's thinking. Another part remembers how he responded to Rick when called out. Attacking him isn't going to get me where I want with Kai. I have to let him come to the conclusion on his own, which is the other direction I can go in.

But damn, he can be so slow about accepting help.

Feeling out of sorts, I go to my room to pack my belongings for my return trip to my condo. After that's done, I review my schedule for the week. The highlights include another reading at the local library, a dance class, and a charity function next week. There were dinner parties I was supposed to attend with Kai, but those have all mysteriously disappeared. It doesn't take three guesses to figure that one out.

My parent's dinner is still two weeks out and I suddenly worry that they might have heard about what happened.

In between all the scheduled events, Romero will continue working with me on things that I'm already expected to know: table settings, proper manners, the right time to tell a joke. Apparently, my jokes aren't funny enough to have a "right" time, according to Romero.

Whatever. I've seen him stifle his laughter more than once.

Around noon, Spencer texts that he's downstairs to take me back home. The door to Kai's office is open and I peek in to let him know I'm taking off. The glare of the monitor reflects off narrow reading glasses as his eyes quickly scan the page. On the desk, his fingers repeatedly tap against the solid wood, a dull thump the only sound in the room.

Off to the side, on the bookshelf, I see the candle I gave him and that Yuriy noticed immediately. It does stick out. All of the accepts in this room are dark greys and wood tones. The sandy-colored candle draws the eye because it doesn't match anything else.

"Are you leaving?" Kai asks, eyes never departing from what's in front of him.

"Yeah, Spencer's downstairs,"

"Thank you for yesterday,"

I'm taken aback. One, it's the first time he's ever thanked me without being prompted. Two, he sounds so sincere.

"Of course," I utter, still wrapping my head around it. "Call me if you need me,"

I leave the door how I found it. I wonder if Kai ever gets lonely, being the only person in such a large space. Or does he breathe easier when he's alone?

Spencer greets me by taking my back from my shoulder and transferring it to the trunk of the car after helping me into the back seat. He asks me how the rest of my night was and really, there's nothing other to say than fine. What am I going to complain about? He was there for the worst of it.

The ride is silent from thereon. The city passes in a blurry haze the farther we get from Kai's. Once we're out of the heart of the city, it's a few minutes of storefronts and strip malls. The polish of Kai's world doesn't travel this far, and though I was never blind to it before, I can't help but grimace at the grimy gray of this part of the city. But before long, we're past all that, out to the farthest edge, entering a pristine village, designed to keep the dingy gray out.

Spencer clears his throat. Taking my attention from the road, I see his eyes in the mirror before they refocus on driving. It's still a five-minute drive from the gate to my tower. "Can I offer some words of wisdom?" He says.

"Sure," I smile, jumping at the chance for a new perspective.

"We've all been around the Hiwatari's for years. We've had a front-row seat to their games and yet, none of us saw what was coming."

For a moment, I wonder what prompted this. It couldn't have been Kai; as all-knowing as he appears to be, it's obvious that he's blind to the emotional turmoil of others. Spencer had to pick it up on his own.

"I knew after that lunch with Salima that something was wrong. I should have pushed her harder or let Kai know sooner. Maybe then it wouldn't have been so devastating."

"There was nothing we could have done to stop Kai's grandfather. That was a blow we were always going to take. The only difference knowing would have made is in the aftermath,"

I recall the frustration that passed between Rick and Kai in the car ride back. By knowing sooner, we'd have avoided that.

"In fact, the only thing that would have changed is that instead of licking our wounds, we would have been celebrating,"

"Even though Mathilda would still be a problem?"

"A problem that we knew about," Spencer clarifies. "I know Mariah likes to compare it to chess, but I'm more fond of a game of cards. Some hands you win, some you lose. But the game is not lost until all chips are gone."

We're pulling in front of my building. I wait for him to get out and get my bag before opening the door for me. He takes me as far as I'll allow, to the elevator before forcing him to give over my belonging with strict orders to go home and rest.

He nods, both of us knowing that my order means nothing.

"Why are you so nice to me, Spencer?" I ask as I wait for the doors to close.

His gaze holds mine. His eyes are so green. "Probably because you're nice to him,"

Him. Him meaning Kai. Before I can question any further, the doors close on me. It's a short ride to my floor. Despite my attempts to decorate and personalize the space, it feels empty the moment I step into it. The hollowness lurks in every corner, feeding off the idea that I don't belong. Alone, I try to make the best of it. I should be grateful. Still, as I lay in bed later that night, there's a part of me that longs for my tiny apartment, and Kai's words come back to me.

"You deserve more," he said.

Well, now I have more. So, why am I still discontent?

In the morning, Romero meets me at my door with a coffee for him and a tea for me. It used to be two cups of coffee but somewhere along the way, he figured me out.

I'm ready for him, dressed in my new clothes that are designed to look both casual and expensive. I welcome him with my usual smile and jubilance, eager to get out of the apartment and doing something good.

"So I was thinking," I start, taking the cup from Romero while he removes his large sunglasses, "that we can schedule another lunch with Salima. You know, she was looking at me all during dinner and I think if I'd just pushed a little harder, I could have gotten her to open up. She can be a real asset to us if I can get her to trust me -"

"Trust her more than she trusts her cousin?" He leans against the island in the kitchen.

I hear the doubt clear in his voice. "I'm not Kai. I'm nicer."

"But you represent him," Romero says, not budging the slightest. "Let's say you do this. It can go one of two ways. Either you insist that you're someone she can trust and you're not going to run off and tell Kai everything she says, in which case she can turn around and tell Soichiro that you're a weak link. Or you present yourself as a loyal woman, which means you can't be trusted to keep things from Kai. Which one are we going for?"

I scoff. "But Salima -"

"-is quiet. She sees things, she hears things, and she keeps it all to herself because she has her own game plan. She's not going to be your way into the Hiwatari Family Secrets."

"That's not what I'm doing," Maybe. Not entirely, anyway. "I was just trying to help."

He takes a deep breath. "Look at it this way, if she were someone to trust, don't you think Kai would have brought her in already?"

I hear his words but they don't sit right. Still, his expression is open and honest, so I nod my head anyway. "I guess,"

"Hilary, it's sweet that you're trying, but just leave this to us,"

It's very reminiscent of what Kai said. I hate that. It feels like I'm purposefully being left out.

Shifting the conversation, I ask about the other thing on my mind. "Have you talked to my parents?"

Romero smiles, relieved I've moved on. "No, I haven't. Don't have their number. Why?"

"Wait. If you don't have their number, then who called to arrange dinner with them?"

"Kai did, of course," Romero says, "I'm not his Personal Assistant."

The idea that Kai took it upon himself to call and arrange dinner with my parents as opposed to having some stranger do it is enough to set my irritation with him aside. At least for now.

Romero continues, "Now, we have a lot to get through this week. Most of it I'm sure you can handle on your own. My main worry is the charity luncheon. The Hiwatari's have already taken care of the donation part so all you have to do is show up and be charming,"

"Doesn't sound too hard," I say slowly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Kai's aunt and Salima will also be present,"

There it is. "So I'll just avoid them,"

"You'll be seated at the same table,"

"So I'll just ignore them," I amend.

"No you won't, not if you want to convince others that you and Kai are in it for life. If that's the case, you'll at least try to be civil with his family."

I brush off his pretentious tone. "I can be civil. It's them you should worry about,"

"I don't have control over them," he says, leaning in close, "I can only work on you."

The implication is foreboding. Despite the warm, sunny days that follow, I anticipate the luncheon as though it were an oncoming storm. It draws closer and closer, bringing with it dark clouds. The feelings I have about the afternoon mix together to create a murky pool of unidentifiable anxiety within me that doesn't leave no matter what I do.

Mariah thinks it's because I'm scared to face his family again after the party. It's a reasonable assumption but that doesn't click.

Romero says I'm nervous because I'll probably embarrass myself. I shake my head at that.

Only Kenny says the thing that makes the most sense. "You're overwhelmed by your desire to please," he says casually over the phone the night before the luncheon. "I keep telling you that."

"But you don't tell me what to do about it,"

"I do, you just don't listen,"

I laugh lightly. In the background, I can hear the sounds of life happening. There's the sizzle of a stove, the tapping of the spoons in various pots and pans. The muffled sounds from the TV and occasionally Kenny will whisper something to someone nearby. I've interrupted his evening. It's a reminder that we're coming back into each other lives at an odd time. I want to continue talking, more comfortable with him than I've been with anyone in a while.

"I should go," I say.

There's a pause on his end. "I can talk a little longer,"

"No, I'm taking you away from your night. Besides, I should get ready for tomorrow. Who knows what I should expect,"

We linger in silence before he agrees tentatively and says good night. Putting the phone down on the bedside table, I slouch farther into bed and pick up the book I have sitting there. It's one Romero "assigned" me; a biography of a princess with the hope that I'll learn some manners and grace.

So far I only feel bad for her. She had it worse than me.

I read until my eyes struggle to stay open. Closing the book with the receipt to keep my place, I gather the cup of cold tea I never finished and take it back to the kitchen to be cleaned in the morning and then return to bed.

My sleep is not restful. I wake often, having to roll over to get comfortable, constantly checking the time, as if there will be an actual countdown clock. When the morning finally dawns, I get out of bed hours before my alarm.

I'm on my own as far as makeup and dress, but Romero left me some examples as far as dress code. Once I've procrastinated long enough, I begin the slow process of getting ready. I pull out some of the new dresses I've bought for summer. I narrow it down to a pink, a teal, and a white, deciding which one seems the most summer formal. The white one wins because it has a matching hat, which Romero said was important for some reason. With that of the way, I do my best to copy the makeup references.

Romero texts when he's on his way up. He won't be joining me at the lunch, but he'll be there to accompany me there and back, just in case I need anything. I'm putting the finishing touches as he walks in. He takes me by the hand and twirls me in the full-length mirror in my bedroom.

"Oh, my," he says as he faces me towards the mirror again to see the finished project. "You still look worried,"

"I'm working on it," I reply. Motioning to the rest of me, I ask, "How's the dress?"

"You did good,"

At least there's that. Approved by Romero, I gather the matching purse and my belongings and head for the door. Romero follows, going over last-minute details about finger sandwiches and not putting my elbows on the table. And the gossip. According to him, gossip is basically currency to these women.

"It's very important you remember these things, Hilary. It shows that you -"

"-care about Kai's imagine, I know." I sneak a peek at him, seeing if likes being interrupted for a change.

He pouts. "Well, I guess you don't need me anymore."

Our ride to the event is quiet. I stare out the window as the city passes. The luncheon is being held by the wife of a business partner of the Hiwatari's and will be attended by the wives and family of all the other partners. It should be a pleasant enough afternoon – it's just tea and sandwiches, after all – but I can't shake the feeling that something's going to go wrong.

"Are you still nervous?" Romero inquires gently. His voice is strangely calm compared to his usual flair.

I look over to see a more pensive version of the man I've come to know. It's startling but also comforting that he's taking this seriously. Seeing it strengthens my resolve to remain cool and collected.

"I can't get rid of it," I admit. "Kenny says that I'm overwhelmed because I want to please Kai."

"Is that so? Would you be excited if this were just a business thing?"

I shrug, thinking about it. "Yeah. I mean, if I just happened to be invited what basically boils down to a tea party, I'd probably be super excited."

"Then try to think of it as a tea party and all the people there are people who you work with. That's all this really is."

"Take Kai out of the equation, you mean?"

"Yeah," Romero winks. "I think Kai would agree. If someone isn't useful, just stop thinking about them."

I nod. "Does sound like him."

"Terrible advice for friends, but it works here,"

I readjust my thoughts. The people I'm meeting today are just my co-workers. I'm simply...networking.

"Feel better?"

"A little," I say. "I can't really lie to myself, but it does help to think of it in different terms."

"Excellent, because we're here,"

I look at the building and then back and Romero, doing nothing to hide my irritation. "Why didn't you tell me,"

"I didn't think it mattered," Romero says, turning up his nose. "It's just a building. You're not scared of a building are you?"

"I'm not scared. I just didn't want to be brought back to the hotel I fled just last week,"

Romero sighs. "It's one of the most popular hotels in the city. There's nothing I can do about that."

I continue to glare.

"If it makes you feel any better, the luncheon is not in the ballroom. It's in the garden,"

There isn't much time to spend arguing about locations. When it's our turn, I'm impatient for the valet to open the door so that I gracefully step out, leaving Romero behind. I'm officially on my own.

It's easy enough to find my way. Besides the signs posted everywhere, I follow the women who are dressed similarly to me. The garden is behind the hotel. Somehow, in the middle of the city, they've been able to create a sprawling green lawn, cut through with a manmade creek that flows over smooth rocks.

A little red, rounded bridge tops the creek and I'm filled with the childlike urge to skip across it. There are trees for shade and bushes trimmed into immaculate little boxes or spheres. Red and yellow flowers perfectly mirror each other in two flower beds around a paved courtyard.

Six tables with four chairs each of been set up. Each table has been covered with white table cloths and the chairs have seat covers, secured with a pink bow at the back.

Along with sounds of the babbling creek and birds twittering in the trees, I can hear the chattering of happy, familiar conversation between the women who've already arrived. So far, I know no one here. My solitude doesn't last for very long. Moments later, a woman comes up behind me.

"You must be Hilary," She's older, her maturity showing with little lines at the corners of her eyes and gray hair at her temples. "Well, of course, you are. I've seen your picture more in the last week than anyone else's," she continues without giving me a chance to reply. "It's just uncomfortable to come up to someone and start talking to them as if you know them, so you have to think of things to say. Though I suppose an introduction would be just as well,"

I'm stumped, unsure of what to say. I recognize her as one of the pictures Mariah showed me, though we didn't spend a lot of time on her because, according to Mariah, 'she won't be a problem.'

In the picture, she looked like a happy grandmother but it didn't do her justice. She's a mountain of a woman, in both height and energy.

"Irina Golubeva," the title President of Ivanov Technology goes unspoken.

"Hilary," I say, accepting her hand.

"And now we know," she says.

"It's good to meet you," I say. It's not lost of me that she must have some connection to Yuriy. Another bit of the puzzle that I just can't piece together yet.

"Walk me to my seat?" She asks. I nod, stepping alongside her. "I remember when I first started coming to these things. It wasn't any fun, being the odd one out,"

I panic slightly, worried about what she's implying. Has Yuriy told her what's really going on? "What made you the odd one out?"

"Well, unlike most of the women here, I'm not somebody's wife. In fact, I just happened to luck into my position. Probably just like you,"

"You're not married?" I ask. We've reached a table with her name on the little place card. It's the table closest to the front where the podium stands. "I guess I just assumed you were - " Yuriy's grandmother, I was going to say.

"No relation," she says as she sits down, waving a hand to my silent comment. "No, never had the chance to marry or have children. Running a company with the big dogs will do that,"

"I'd love to talk about that with you,"

She laughs heartily. "You're sweet. there'll be plenty of time for that. We'll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come,"

Relief floods my system once I know our secret is safe. There's an easiness with Ms. Golubeva that makes me relax even further. More people have started to arrive. In total, based on the number of tables and chairs, I expect there to be only twenty-four, which sounds like a lot but it's actually very few.

I keep my eye on the entrance from the hotel, waiting for Kay and Salima while Mrs. Golubeva and I chit-chat. I know I should be mingling with the others and paying attention to the juicy gossip of who went out on whose yacht, but I just find the older woman so much more interesting. Occasionally, others come up to greet her. She introduces me within the first minute, never missing a beat. I recognize a few from the engagement party and know they're feeling awkward about what happened. It's in their eyes as they glance over me. Their smiles are open and friendly but their cold eyes tell the truth. Soichiro got to them. Only Ms. Golubeva remains warm.

The next familiar face that walks into the garden is both unexpected and a relief. "Julia," I say as she approaches.

I stand to shake her hand but her long tan arms snake around me in a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Her brown portion of her waist-length hair is twisted and pinned up, leaving only the blonde bangs free to frame her face.

"I didn't know you were still in town," I say once we've parted.

"I have some things to take care of," she replies, stepping around me to Ms. Golubeva. For her, she leans down and kisses both cheeks.

"One of those things better be that boy," Ms. Golubeva laughs. "Tell him if he keeps forwarding my calls, I'll show up in the middle of the night and embarrass him in front of whoever he's with. I hope it's you."

"Trust me, if I could control anything he does, he wouldn't be avoiding your calls,"

"Seems we're at a dead-end,"

"Appears so,"

"We should shoot him and be done with it,"

"Say the word, Irina," Julia laughs. "Just say the word."

They can only be talking about Yuriy. So, Ms. Golubeva does have a relationship with him, she's just not related to him. And she runs his family's company. None of it makes sense and only adds to the enigma that is Kai's friend.

Julia twists back to me. Her hand comes to rest on my arm in a comforting gesture. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," I nod, thinking about the last time I saw her getting into a car with the man she just joking threaten to shot. I think it was a joke.

She smiles weakly. "I'd say it gets better but really it only gets harder,"

"I don't know why you girls put up with those men," Ms. Golubeva adds, "They only disappoint and you can do so much better."

We laugh together. The conversation continues to flow between the three of us effortlessly. There's a fondness between Julia and Ms. Golubeva that I find enviable and makes me miss my own grandmother. I ponder at the development of that relationship, watching as Ms. Golubeva fawns over Julia happily. Not much time passes before we're interrupted again, this time by a darker figure.

Dr. Kay strolls over confidently, pausing momentarily to say hello to those she passes, promising meetings and coffees. The smile that's carved across her lips looks more like a pouty smirk. Does she practice that or does it come naturally? Kay is manicured to perfection, not a wisp of hair out of place. Salima trails behind her, looking the part of a despondent teenager despite her turning twenty-one this year. Her dark dress has creases, probably pulled from the back of a full closet and her hair is a tangle of red frizz.

By the time they reach us, I'm on edge, ready for anything to come from Kay's mouth. Instead, she gives me a wide smile and brings me in for a tight hug just as Julia had. I look back at Julia to confirm that this isn't normal and based on her wide green eyes, I'd say it's not.

"It's good to see you again, Hilary," she says. Her voice holds none of the fake sugary-sweetness of the other women here. It's the same deeply rich tones I've come to know.

"Yeah, sure," I mumble, trying to discreetly push her off.

Her dark eyes level with me. "I know I haven't been very welcoming in the past. I'm protective of my family,"

So, I thought I was prepared for anything she could say. I was wrong.

"I want you to know that both Salima and I disagree with what my father did to you at the party. No matter what he wants, that wasn't the time or place for action. Quite frankly, it was embarrassing."

Her words are the exact opposite of what I've been told to expect from her and what I've prepared for. "Is that so?" I say, looking for any crack in her façade to prove this is just a ploy to gain my trust. It's the only thing that makes sense.

"I understand if you doubt my sincerity, I would too. But the truth is, my father will get his way one way or another. If it's between you and that child," she shrugs, "I pick you. Simple as that."

My smile is tight. "Simple," I agree. That sounds more like her. Her words remind me of Kai, the bold honesty that disregards anything else.

My eyes skim over Salima as she stands behind her mother. Romero's words echo in my head, 'she's quiet.' Just as her mother is similar to Kai in words, Salima is similar in expression. Her eyes are sharp and observant. I bet she doesn't miss anything.

"If that's the case," I continue, detaching myself from Kay's grip so that I can loop my arm through Salima's. Her stiff stance is thrown off balance, clearly not expecting me to reach out for her. She doesn't push me away though and almost appears happy for my familiarity. "Then I'm happy to have you on my side."

The chairwoman for the luncheon calls everyone to their seats.

Kay gives Ms. Golubeva a critical eye. "Irina," she says aloofly.

"Kay," the woman nods in a good-humored fashion.

Salima and I follow after Kay, exchanging a bemused look with Julia at their interchange.

"Guess only one of us is on her good side," I whisper to Salima.

She stifles a laugh. "What good side?"

We take out seats at the table with our name cards. I pick mine up, seeing the tails of my name swirl and curl in large, elegant loops. Are we allow to take them home, I wonder. Eyes darting around to make sure no one is looking at me, I slip the card into my bag.

One seat at our table is left open but there's no name tag on it. Seems like odd planning to me but what do I know. The other tables are filled and the chairwoman starts her presentation, remarking about why we're all gathered here and what the charity is for. We've already paid for a seat, but we're encouraged to donate even more if we feel moved to do so at the end.

After the presentation is over, tea and sandwiches are served. Thanks to Romero's training, I know what to do each step of the way and make a mental note to thank him.

"You'll have to tell Kai that we get it already," Kay remarks as she wraps her fingers around the handle of the shallow teacup with practiced precision.

"I'm sorry?" I ask as I focus on keeping my hand from shaking. I'm used to larger cups and being able to hold them with both hands.

She takes a short sip, just barely tilting the cup towards her lips. "The animal charities?"

Catching on to my confusion, Salima intervenes. "Grandfather and Kai decide on the charities together. Anything concerning medicine and health is usual Grandfather, anything concerning animals and the arts is Kai. And they're pretty equal on education."

"What about the community?"

Salima tries to hide a sarcastic smile behind her cup. "Neither of them really care about that,"

"We contribute to the community by bringing in business. Without Hiwatari Enterprises being here, what do you think would become of this city?" Kay chuckles as though it were an absurd question.

At least she's being real with me, I reason. I don't have to like her. I just have to tolerate her. I focus on eating my tiny sandwich to keep from glaring at her.

"My apologies for being late,"

The gentle voice sends ice down my back. Mathilda gently slides into the empty seat with perfect posture. She lifts her pink eyes to greet each member of the table, leaving me for last. "Good afternoon, Hilary,"

I look at Salima and Kay. Both of them seem just as surprised by her arrival as I am, but that doesn't mean they're not lying.

"What are you doing here, little girl," Kay hisses.

Mathilda holds strong against the aggression. "I was invited,"

"By who?"

"By Soichiro," I answer, already knowing that's what happened. I stare down at my plate.

Mathilda nods. "He thought it would be good for me to be seen at these events, with the family."

It's exactly what Kai said. Soichiro is just making the same moves with a different girl.

The entire party is staring at us. I can feel their darting eyes and secret whispers as the events of last week play over again. I wonder, briefly, what this will be worth in gossip currency. Is there a conversion chart available?

I bite back my nerves. "You have a knack for surprise entrances," I say, "or is that also Soichiro's doing?"

She doesn't answer. Her eyes shift away from me, returning to the empty plate in front of her.

Salima leans forward and whispers, "I think you should leave,"

Mathilda takes a deep breath. Again, I'm struck by the fairy-like quality. Everything about her is delicate and I'm almost enchanted by the way her round cheeks fall into a pointed chin that leads down a thin neck to narrow shoulders.

"Excuse me," she says. Mathilda glides from her chair. Not a single movement is wasted as she leaves. Our eyes follow her for what feels like forever before she exits the garden into the hotel.

Across the way, I see Julia. She nods once, questioning if I'm okay. Next to her, Ms. Golubeva keeps a straight face.

I shake my head, telling her I don't know. It can't be that easy to chase her off. Why would Soichiro instruct her to arrive and leave at the first bit of resistance. That's the part that doesn't make sense.

I rise and travel the same path as Mathilda. I'm not as graceful as she is, but I'm quick. There are only so many directions she could have gone in and I catch a glimpse of pink hair and pick up after her. She's nearly out of the doors and approaching a waiting car by the time I catch up.

I pause because anyone can be in that car. I could be walking into a trap.

"Mathilda," I call on impulse, unable to stop my curiosity from getting the better of me.

An attendant opens the door but Mathilda turns. Her eyes widen, the biggest I've ever seen them. "Hilary?"

I walk down the remaining steps. "We need to talk," I say once I'm in front of her. Then, stepping around, I slip into the open door first.

So sorry for the late post. The editing process was not my friend this week. Thanks for your patience. I appreciate all of you. Hope you're doing well and staying safe. Feel free to drop any thoughts you have. Take care until next time.

Konix