Page 8 of Secrets & Sake

Mirth dying to chuckles, Raiden slaps the spot beside him. “Sorry, sorry. You’re a blast to tease. Come on and sit down. Let’s get this interview over with. I’m starving.”

He’d seemed so stoic and brooding downstairs. This playfulness is throwing me for a total loop.

Raiden takes a drink. “So. You’re a photographer.”

“Yeah, I… hold on.” Fuck I am a mess! I throw open my bag and pull out my photo book. “Here are some examples of my work. And here’s my card.” I pluck a card from my wallet and hand it to him. Raiden accepts the card and inspects it, front and back, then tucks it away in his wallet. He then hands me his own card, which I accept with both hands. The front has the Namikawa-kai logo of a wolf howling over a mountain. The back has his name and number. Thanking him, I carefully put the card away.

“Are you from Osaka?” Raiden asks me after a sip of whiskey.

He must have noticed my dialect. “Yes. I moved to Tokyo about five years ago.”

As I speak, Raiden nods and hums, his eyes never leaving my face. It’s… different. I feel seen, heard. I realize I haven’t felt this way in a long time. “What school did you go to?”

“Tokyo University of the Arts. Where’d you study?”

Raiden downs the last of his whiskey like water and snorts. “Does someone like me look like he went to university and got a good education?”

“Hey, you look—” I almost swallow my tongue. Best I don’t tell him what he looks like.

Raiden arches a brow, and a curious smile hooks the corner of his supple lips.

I clear my throat as I remember the way he glanced at my mouth downstairs. If he’s into me, for whatever reason, I should use that to my advantage. “Th-that shirt is very nice,” I say.

An amused huff escapes him, then he drags those dark eyes down my body and back up to my face. “So is yours.”

Heat tingles down my spine.

“I wish I had gone to school,” Raiden adds, thoughtfully swirling the ice around in his glass. “Maybe things could have turned out differently.”

There’s a note of regret and bitterness in his voice. My journalistic curiosity perks right up. “What would you have studied if you did?”

“Maybe—” Raiden furrows his brow, then shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re lucky you had the chance to go. Ren told you we needed a photographer for our magazines, right? Why are you interested in working for us?”

I guess asking about university ticked him off because he’s suddenly all business.

“I know this is probably going to sound strange, but… I want to put together a photo book about the Namikawa-kai. The yakuza way of life is still a mystery to me. I’ve always been curious about the quieter, more business-like element of the yakuza. The media only ever shows one side of your organization, and I’d love the opportunity to capture another side, to show the world there’s more to the Namikawa-kai than the violent aspects we hear about on TV.”

Raiden is silent while he churns over my request. “The photos for the magazine aren’t a problem. But my boss will get the final say in anything else.”

“That’s reasonable.” Suddenly, my stomach growls. Loudly. My cheeks heat. “Sorry. I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“Want to grab dinner?”

Oh, shit. Is he asking me out? Is he just being friendly? Is he really just hungry and I’m completely overthinking this?

“Sure.”

“There’s a great izakaya nearby.”

“Okay. Let’s go there.”

He grins like I’ve just gifted him something precious instead of my measly company. “Let’s go.”

We leave the club together. It rained while we were inside, leaving the ground wet and the air thick with the clean scent of moisture. At the curb, a sleek black beast of a Mercedes awaits us. I’m no gearhead, but I know a luxury vehicle when I see it. With the click of a remote, the gull-wing doors soar open, beckoning me into an interior that screams comfort, class, and money. I’m almost worried I’ll dirty his seats.

“After you.” Raiden motions me into the front seat.

The leather seat is butter-soft and is easily adjustable.

---