Font Size:

Page 139 of The Striker (Gods of the Game 1)

“Make sure to eat all the food for me. Ramen, sushi, matcha…and beef. Kobe beef is world famous, right? I bet their fish and steak is amazing. Will you be in Tokyo? You should visit some of the temples if you have time. They look beautiful.” I prattled on, hoping the words would bulldoze over the hollow cavern in my chest. “The time difference will be killer, but if you don’t FaceTime me at least once to show me the sights, I’ll never forgive you. Oh, and I?—”

“Scarlett.”

I stopped, slightly out of breath from my rambling. “Yes?”

“Come with me.”

“Come with you to where?”

“To Japan.”

My lips parted. Surely, he was joking. “I can’t go with you to Japan!”

“Why not?”

“Because I have a job! I have practice. I have…” I floundered, trying to come up with other reasons and failing. “I can’t just drop everything and fly to another continent with you. What will I tell Vincent? He’ll be suspicious for sure.”

“Vincent isn’t here. By the time he finds out, we’ll have told him about us already,” Asher said calmly. “I also asked Carina about your schedule after I found out about the trip. She mentioned you had quite a few days of holiday leave you need to take before summer’s end or you’ll lose them. Where better to enjoy them than in Japan? Withme?” His roguish grin matched the teasing sparkle in his eyes.

Typical Asher.

But I couldn’t be mad because he was right. I hadn’t taken a proper holiday in too long, and Japanwason my bucket list.

“I don’t know.” My reflection stared back at me from the studio’s mirrors, its face wracked with indecision. “Leaving for Asia with less than forty-eight-hours’ notice is wild.”

Asher noticed the crack in my shield and pounced. “You know what they say. Spontaneity is the spice of life.” His expression gentled when I didn’t reply. “If you really don’t want to go, you don’t have to. But if you’re concerned about work, Carina said she can squeeze in your holiday and find someone to cover you.” As Lavinia’s executive assistant, Carina was in charge of overseeing the staff’s schedules. “Aoki is also flying us out on the company jet, so we don’t have to worry about being spotted in the airport. I can bring a plus-one, so they’ll also cover your expenses, and the Japanese press won’t hound us the way the paps do here. I have a bunch of work obligations while I’m there, but I’ll have free time too. We’ll actually be able to enjoy ourselves without looking over our shoulders every minute of the day.”

I drew my bottom lip between my teeth. That did sound nice.

Asher and I made our relationship work in London, but we spent half our time hiding out in one of our houses and the other half hoping people wouldn’t see past his disguises when we were out and about. We couldn’t hold hands or kiss in front of other people. Even in “safe” spaces like the Angry Boar, we were constantly on alert for eavesdroppers.

I wanted to experience what it was like to be a normal couple with him.

In the end, that was what sold me. Not the private jet, not the all-expenses-paid trip to Tokyo, but the prospect of simply spending more time with him.

“Okay,” I said, torn between nerves and excitement. “Let’s go to Japan.”

I’d visited Asia only once in my life. My parents took Vincent and me to Disneyland Shanghai before their divorce, but I was so young I only retained vague recollections of a pink castle and the fairy-light sugariness of candy floss.

Tokyo was the polar opposite of that sweet, hazy childhood memory.

Glittering skyscrapers and giant neon signs draped across the skyline like jewels adorning a crown. The streets teemed with people, and the energy of the city pulsed with such vibrancy it seeped through our car windows and reverberated in my bones.

It was electric. It was frenetic.

It wasincredible.

Asher’s publicist Sloane met us on the tarmac when we landed. Blond, statuesque, and intimidating as hell, she issued orders and shepherded us through the city and into our penthouse hotel suite with the brusque efficiency of a four-star military general.

I didn’t know what Asher told her about me, but she didn’t question why her star client popped up in Japan with his summer trainer in tow.

“Here’s a detailed itinerary for the next three days,” she said, handing Asher a thick sheaf of stapled, color-coordinated papers. “Call time is at seven a.m. tomorrow. I’ll be here at six-fifteen sharp to make sure you’re awake and ready. If you need anything, call, text, or emailin that order.If it’s a true emergency, find me in my room. I’m staying in 805.”

“Got it.” He took the papers without looking at them. “You know, it’s still early in the evening. You should hit the spa for a massage or something. My treat.”

Sloane’s mouth pursed. If anyone looked like they needed a massage, it was her, but she didn’t acknowledge his suggestion before moving on.

“One more thing,” she said. “You’ll see you have several blocks of free time. They’re highlighted in yellow. You are, of course, free to spend that time however you wish.But”—she jabbed a finger at his chest—“if I find out you’ve so much as stepped footneara sports car while you’re here, I will personally fetch a Japanese steel knife from the kitchen and castrate you with it. Scarlett is my witness. Do. You. Understand?”




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books