iris 👁

IT turns out Spencer wasn't the only man who followed Heather down.

"You stalked my sister here?" I'm aghast.

"Correction: I've had a tail on her for the past month." Jared waves it away like it's a minor detail. "Anyway, that's not the point. The point is I'm here."

I cross my arms to stop myself from shaking him by the collar. We're standing on the bridge that borders Ryefair from its backdrop of woods. Underneath us the river runs, a bubbly stream of water about six feet wide and three feet deep.

"And why," I grind out between gritted teeth, "are you here?"

Jared smiles, that charming smile I know so well. "But my love, surely you've not forgotten our Cappadocia trip? The flight is tonight."

I stare at him. Is his skull made of wood? Did his ears go deaf over the past few weeks?

"Jared," I enunciate slowly, "I'm not going anywhere with you. We're divorced."

"No, we're not. Not until next month, at least. When the papers are finalized."

"You're not supposed to come find me. You're not even supposed to talk to me. Martha says – "

"I don't give a fuck what that woman says!" Jared roars, suddenly and loudly. I realize we're both out above rushing water, with no other soul in sight. And Jared is an entire foot taller than me.

He's not a man for physical violence, I tell myself. I've seen him cry over a ruined dress shirt before. Granted it was Ralph Lauren, but still. A man who cries over spilled sauce on fabric doesn't exactly inspire menace.

But now I'm not so sure.

"Babe, please," he says, and there it is, back to that nasally whine again. "Come on! I drove three hours to get here! What's it going to take for you to forgive me? I've fired Janice. I fired my secretary – and that wasn't easy to do, by the way. Not when she's the niece of my client. But still, I did it. For you. And apparently I'm fighting against Kanye West right now because both of us want the same Dior dress for our wives."

He takes a step forward and I take a step back.

"Don't you see what I'm doing for you, Iris? Don't you see how hard I'm trying? How much you mean to me?"

"From a business standpoint, you mean." I raise my chin. "Don't lie to me, Jared. That was all I ever meant to you."

"You say that like it isn't mutual." A nasty expression I've never seen before flickers across Jared's face. My heart starts beating fast, and not the pleasant kind. "Those were my millions you spent, Iris."

I swallow. "You're right. I used your money, and you used my family name. And it got us both what we wanted, and it was fun while it lasted, but now I'm done."

Behind me are the woods. In front of me is the village, and Jared in between. I take the tiniest sidestep to the right, talking all the while as I do so.

"I'm happy here," I say. "I've found a job I kind of like. I'm not that good at it – yet, but I'm learning. I earn my own money, and I use that to buy myself my own things. I don't need your millions anymore."

"Because you're planning to use the millions of Satoh Tomiichi?"

My body goes cold. "What?"

"Anyone with half a brain can see what you're doing," Jared sneers. "You spent your whole life dreaming of being a rich man's slut, and now you're telling me you've suddenly got a change of heart? To work for some gardener? Bullshit. I know why you're here. I know who the Satohs are."

The look on Jared's face has gone beyond ugly. "If you think I'll just let you leave me for Satoh Tomiichi, you've got another thing coming. His is a family of low-class, immigrant Japs – "

I punch him in the face.

I didn't even think about it. My right fist flew out before I could even form a coherent thought. Jared reels back, stumbling against the railing of the bridge before hitting the ground with a heavy thump.

His eyes are wide with more shock than anger. "You – you punched me! My face!"

My breathing comes heavy and fast. "Talk about Akai and his family that way again," I snarl, "and it won't be just your face."

I move forward and Jared scrabbles to put distance between us like a terrified frog.

"I owe you nothing, Jared," I say. "You used me to get those same millions I spent. And just to be extra clear – "

I dial my mobile and put it on loudspeaker. Martha picks up on the first ring.

"What do I get from the divorce?" I ask.

"It's not finalized yet," comes the lawyer's reply, "but ten million, easy. Excluding the physical assets like cars, and your wardrobe." A pause. "In fact, your wardrobe might be worth more."

"That's a lot of money." I keep my eyes on Jared. "It's from the pre-nuptial, right?"

"Yeap."

"Nullify it."

There has never been a more satisfying expression that crossed Jared's face.

Martha sounds just as equally shocked. "You want to cancel the pre-nuptial agreement? But you might walk with nothing!"

I shrug. "I don't care. I'm done spending other people's money. From now on, the only person I owe anything to – is myself."

Saying those words out loud is like lifting an anchor I didn't even know was there. I feel free. I feel proud.

Jared is shaking his head in tight, controlled arcs. "You're making a big mistake, Iris. You're going to regret this."

I scoff. "I'm not scared of your threats, Jared. You can't use money to move me anymore."

"This isn't about money." My ex-husband stands up. "If you turn away from me, you won't have anything anymore. And I mean that. In every sense of the word."

Is he still talking about Dior? I roll my eyes.

"I don't need you, Jared. And that dress? I'll fucking buy that myself."

Pumped up on adrenaline, it's hard to resist the urge to skip as I whirl around and walk off the bridge. My heart and hands are trembling, and for a second, I wonder if it's from fear or uncertainty, but no. It's exhilaration – and relief. I want to crouch down and cry even as I want to jump up and scream.

The sky above me is the bluest they've ever been. Every birdsong comes into my ear like the world's best melody. The flowers have never been brighter.

By the time I reach the big gates of Satoh house, I've calmed down a little. Still in high spirits, but at least the impulse to scream and shout has gone. I can't help grinning as I replay the argument with Jared in my head. That last sentence was a fucking good one-liner, if I may say so myself.

Although I have to admit ... now that the excitement has subsided, Jared's words are coming back to niggle at me. I try to brush them away, but they stick to my mind like insects on flypaper. Buzzing stubbornly, refusing to go unheard.

I know Jared. He's the kind of man who likes his words to have a foundation. Even with his investments, he's always liked to see some proof of potential before pooling his money in. He's never been one to just make a claim without something backing him up.

It stands to reason that when he makes threats it's the same.

But what else can he take from me? I left my entire lifestyle behind. I don't see how –

"Whoa!"

"Sorry!" My hands catch the bouquet before it hits the ground. Straightening up, I hand over the lilies with a laugh. "We seem to do this pretty often, don't we?"

Tomiichi smiles. "Yes, I suppose."

"Are they for Mrs. Satoh?"

"Actually, these for Riku. I heard that tortoises like flowers ..." Tomiichi's voice trails off as he sees the look on my face. "... although it seems that I may have heard wrongly."

"They do like flowers, but unfortunately lilies are not on the menu. Toxic." I wince as I remember the last time I almost made that mistake; Akai snarled down my ear like a rabid wolf and I spent the rest of the day memorizing the tortoise-list of forbidden foods. Which includes but is not limited to aubergine, broccoli, buttercup, holly, daffodil, lily and morning glory ...

"It's a good thing I met you then." Tomiichi pauses. "Seeing as Riku can't have them, will you take it?"

"The lilies?"

"Yes."

I hesitate. They're just flowers, I tell myself. He's just giving them to you because a tortoise can't eat them. Yet somehow the idea of accepting lilies from Satoh Tomiichi feels like I'm betraying Akai.

Which doesn't even make any sense.

I take the lilies. "Thank you. They're pretty."

"But not edible." Tomiichi sighs dramatically, then grins. "Have you had breakfast, Iris? There's a coffee shop in the village square that makes the most amazing home blend called – "

"To Bean Or Not To Bean," I finish. The number of times I've seen that waitress could make people think we're family. "Yes, I've been. Twice."

"Can I tempt you to make that thrice?"

Coffee isn't lilies. Besides the obvious organic difference, accepting a man's not-originally-intended-for-you gift isn't the same as accepting a man's definitely-intended-for-you invitation to a breakfast date. If I say yes, I'm telling Tomiichi that I'm okay with taking things further. Where further ends is irrelevant; the point is, I'm available.

But then again, why wouldn't I be? At least this man hasn't kissed me and called it a mistake.

"Why not?" I say. "I'm starving."

We get a table by the window where Tomiichi orders a cup of coffee and buttered toast. I look down at my full English breakfast, then at his two slices of bread.

"That's enough for you?"

"I don't want to be too full." Tomiichi bites into the bread, a beautiful crinkling sound. "Mama will kill me if I can't eat her food later."

"Mrs. Satoh is making breakfast right now?"

"You didn't smell the rice cooking? Nothing beats the fragrance of rice first thing in the morning."

Now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen the Satohs eat a meal without rice.

"What's a typical Japanese breakfast like?"

"A bowl of rice, warm and freshly cooked. Grilled mackerel with soy sauce. Tamagoyaki – rolled omelette. Spinach, with pickled daikon, seaweed ... or maybe some tofu. And of course, not to forget, miso soup."

"Wash it all down with coffee afterwards?"

Tomiichi laughs. "Green tea, more like. Coffee rouses the spirit, but green tea soothes it."

I jab at a sausage. "You must be awfully full afterwards."

"We don't eat that every day." Tomiichi gestures. "Just like you don't eat the English breakfast all the time. In Japan, we believe in ichiju sansai. One soup, three dishes."

I do the math in my head. "But you mentioned five things in the breakfast menu."

Tomiichi winks. "You underestimate the Asian obsession with rice. It isn't a dish; it's a lifestyle."

He finishes the last of his toast and starts on the coffee. "Why the sudden interest in Japanese culture?"

"Um. Just thought I should know more about ... the family I'm working for."

"Really? And what do you think of us?"

"Kind. Strong." I wrinkle my nose. "The eldest son is a bit unfilial, though. Last I heard he came home a week late."

Tomiichi laughs. It's a bright laugh, warm and summery, and when he laughs hard enough, I can see the dimples winking in and out of his cheek. Like now.

We finish the rest of our breakfast in silence. Morning sun through the windowpanes shine down on Tomiichi's lilies, which the waitress has kindly helped me put inside a vase of water for the time being.

The CEO of Satoh Property Group wipes his lips with a napkin and places both hands on the table.

"The truth is, Iris, there is something I must tell you."

There's a steadfast look in his eyes that make my heart skip a beat. Shit. He's not about to make any grand confessions, is he? I've barely known him for two days! And I made out with his brother last night. If Satoh Tomiichi pops the question right now I think I'm going to absolutely lose it –

"I met with your ex-husband. Jared. He tells me you have a rather interesting take on the idea of marriage."

A steel ball the size of Antarctica drops in the pit of my stomach.