Page 82 of Boss of the Year
“It’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, and you’re basically going to have a ten-day trip at the spa hanging out here. But it’s completely impractical given his schedule. An hour plus each way to the city for every meeting? He’s going to spend half a day in the car. Which means I will too.” Robbie grabbed my suitcase from the trunk, still frowning. “He told me to book it a few days ago, even after I explained how inconvenient it would be.”
“Maybe he wanted somewhere peaceful to decompress,” I suggested, though I wasn’t sure I believed the reasoning myself.
“Maybe.” Robbie shot me a sideways look. “You wouldn’t happen to know why he’d choose somewhere so romantic, would you?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “I would not.”
“Sure about that? Sure that red dress doesn’t have any ideas either?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Not a one.”
Robbie looked doubtful but had the good sense not to press. Instead, he launched into a tour of the facilities, showing me the main kitchen, a beautiful blend of modern equipment and traditional design, and the various common areas before leading me to my suite. Tatami mats covered the floors, and sliding doors opened onto a private section of the garden. But the real treasure was the door that led directly to the onsen.
“You have private access to the hot spring,” Robbie explained, sliding open the door to reveal a stone path leading to the waters.
I peered at the pagoda, steam rising gently from within. A private spring. A mountainous backdrop. My little city heart was overflowing with gratitude.
We setoff for the village an hour later, and I genuinely enjoyed the walk. The air was crisp and clean, filled with the scent of trees and water along with the whiff of sugar Robbie said was from a bakery. The village itself was like stepping into a scene from a movie: narrow streets lined with traditional shops, elderly women chatting outside a tea house, and temple bells sounding in the distance.
On our way, Robbie explained the new schedule, which differed significantly from the one we had in Brazil. Lucas would be in meetings constantly, often not returning until after ten at night. He wanted breakfast and lunch packed and ready to go by six a.m., and dinners that could be eaten cold or easily reheated. This included some sushi, cold noodle dishes, or anything that wouldn’t suffer from sitting out.
“Anything off-limits?” I asked, though I was more than annoyed Lucas hadn’t found the time to tell me any of this during the twenty-eighthourswe had spent in each other’s company.
Robbie shook his head. “He said he trusts you. Although I can tell you from experience, he didn’t love the taste of natto the last time he was here.”
Trust. That was a funny word to use.
“Basically, you’re going to have a lot more free time, you brat,” Robbie concluded as we reached the fringes of an enormous outdoor market.
The market was a revelation—noisy, chaotic, and somehow impossibly beautiful. Stalls overflowed with jewel-toned produce and more types of seafood than I thought the ocean contained. I wandered past crates of yuzu and shiso, marveled at vegetables I couldn’t name, and found myself face-to-face with a fishmonger slicing flounder with surgical grace. Using halting Japanese from a phone translator and hand gestures, we pieced together a conversation. When I pointed at a tray of scallops the size of my palm, he smiled, tapped his chest with a “Hokkaido,” and offered me one raw on the shell. The sweet, briny flavor exploded on my tongue, and for a moment I forgot who I was supposed to be—shy, reformed wallflower Marie Zola with a crush on her boss’s brother and somehow also her boss too—and just let myselfbe. A woman in a foreign town, discovering something unexpectedly perfect.
That in and of itself was the most perfect thing of all.
“Japan!”Lea shouted when I got back to the ryokan and had a moment to FaceTime with her while I prepped food for the week. “God, Marie, you’re living like a queen. Look at that place!”
Her face appeared on my laptop screen, looking tired but smiling, though I could see the strain around her eyes. My sister was tired, looking a lot older than her age.
“Arigato,” I repeated one of the few phrases I’d learned today as I angled the laptop so she could see more of the room. “Seriously, though, it’s fantastic. I wish you were here with me. It’s pure serenity, this place, and I know you need some.”
Lea sighed. “Do I ever.”
Something in her voice made me look at her more closely. “What’s going on?”
Lea’s smile wavered. “No, I’m not gonna?—”
“Spill it,” I ordered. “I might not be able to do anything about it from here, but at least I can listen. What is it?”
She sighed. “I got laid off yesterday.”
“From the bookkeeping job?”
She nodded. “Yeah. No surprise, I guess, but I’m still pissed.”
I knew my sister well enough to know that the disappointment I heard wasn’t for love of crunching numbers, but with herself. “Lea, I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“I asked for a sick day one too many times because MJ got strep throatagain. There’s always something.” She tried to look unconcerned, but I could see how much it affected her. Lea was not the type of person who accepted failure. Ever. “It’s okay. I’ll find something else.”
“Are you going to be okay financially? I could probably ask Lucas if you could work at Prideview or maybe at his apartment?—”
