First thing tomorrow he’d contact the club owner and get the manager canned for breaking the confidential terms of service.
“Don’t bother getting the man fired. I already did. He shouldn’t have been so willing to discuss a certain club member’s . . . problems with a potential new member.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“To remind you that I look out for you, Ronin. Even when you aren’t aware of it. We were so good together.” She reached out, and Ronin jerked back, away from her deadly claws.
“You baited the manager and got him fired, making sure you got the satisfaction of reminding me how psychotic you are.”
“Aw, pu**ycat, don’t be upset. After I learned of your girlfriend’s phobia, I tracked you down to see if there was anything I can do to help you. I know the ropes, so to speak”—she winked lewdly—“so if you want to remind club-goers that you are the rope master, I’d gladly offer my services as your partner again.”
“Pass.”
“You sure? I’m only trying to help you save face. Your girlfriend’s unwillingness to be publicly bound speaks of her shame of the act. It undermines your expertise, Master Black.”
“Bullshit.”
“Is she ashamed in private too?”
Don’t respond.
“Didn’t you always remind me that teachers don’t let students impose limits on the lessons?”
Ronin’s jaw tightened. As did his fist.
“Sounds to me like you’ve gone soft.” Her gaze zeroed in on his groin, and she lifted her eyes back to his. “You were never soft in any area before. Does she prefer you make sweet, sweet love to her? Instead of binding her and f**king her like a beast?”
“I’m done listening to this.”
“But you didn’t answer.” She pouted and stepped in front of him to stop his retreat. “Do you let your student dictate the rules to the master, pu**ycat? Or maybe I should stop by Hardwick Designs in Lodo and ask for the truth. Mention I’d be happy to be her stand-in at the club.”
Ronin got right in her face. “No f**king way, no f**king how, never f**king happening. Stay away from me; stay away from Amery; stay away from my club.”
“Not so Zen now, are you, Master Black?”
“Leave Denver, or I will f**k with your life in ways you can’t even imagine.”
“You already f**ked with my life. Getting returned to Japan like a defective toy humiliated me on more levels than you can comprehend. So paybacks are a bitch, Ronin-san. And I plan to be around until I get mine.”
He expected her to create a bigger scene, but he wasn’t prepared for her to lean in and wipe her lipsticked mouth down the left side of his white shirt.
She grinned at him, red smeared across her chin, as she turned and vanished into the crowd.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I’M not sure on that font,” Amery said. “Too curved. Too fat.”
Molly laughed. “Think a fat font on low-calorie snack packaging would be considered creating a subliminal message?”
“I can’t believe people get paid to think about this stuff. Did you know that Okada has fifty food scientists on staff?” Amery shook her head. “Do some kids grow up with the goal of having a career in food science?”
“I don’t know. But I hear getting a job in Hershey, Pennsylvania, is a sweet gig.”
Amery groaned. “Let’s call it a night.”
Molly stood and stretched. “It’s weird working this late because you leave a vapor trail as soon as five o’clock rolls around. What are you and Ronin doing tonight?”
Nothing, since she hadn’t contacted Ronin yet.
After he’d pointed out her admittedly selfish behavior Friday night, she’d had every intention of calling him first thing Sunday morning after spending Saturday working, pretending everything was peachy. But on Sunday, Emmylou had a meltdown after her breakup with Sasha and had sounded near suicidal.
As much as Amery had appreciated Emmylou’s friendship over the years, it occurred to her as she listened to her friend complain and cry that Emmylou’s friendship was one-sided. She’d never asked about Amery’s state of mind during her breakup with Ronin. She’d never asked how things were going after they’d gotten back together. Since they hadn’t spent much time together recently, Amery had invited Emmylou to the MMA fight—and then had to listen to Emmylou’s diatribe against men’s need to prove their dicks were superior through violence and then recite stats on physically abused women who were involved with those types of men who used steroids and their fists.
Seemed Emmylou’s personality had undergone a drastic change in recent months, and Amery didn’t like the changes. She’d keep their landlord and tenant relationship businesslike from here on out. Then she vowed it’d be the last time she’d waste an entire day trying to make someone else feel better about herself at the expense of fixing her own problems. By the time Amery had returned home, she’d been in no frame of mind to offer Ronin the apology he deserved.
Four loud raps on the front door had Amery checking to see who’d show up so late. Ronin? No. He’d use his key and come in through the back door.
Shiori was impatiently tapping her foot on the other side of the glass. Amery unlocked the door and Shiori walked past her with a brusque, “We need to talk.”
Then she stopped abruptly upon seeing Molly.
“Shiori Hirano, VP of Okada Foods, this is my assistant, Molly Calloway.”
Molly offered her hand. “It’s good to finally meet you in person. I’m excited to work on the new Okada line.” When Shiori stared at her blankly, Molly added, “Oh, I enjoyed watching you fight the other night.”
“The feeling is mutual,” she said, obviously not really paying attention to the conversation, and headed toward Amery’s office.
When Molly raised both eyebrows in a silent, Is she always this self-absorbed? Amery shrugged.
“I’ll lock up,” Molly said, grabbing her coat and purse. “See you tomorrow.”
Amery waited until Molly left before approaching Shiori as she prowled in Amery’s office like a caged cat. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here?”
Shiori whirled around. “I need a drink.”
“Did something happen to Ronin?” Amery asked sharply.
“Not in the way you think.”