The Little Teashop in Tokyo by Julie Caplin Page 0,34

face as he studied her braided hair. For some reason, the attention made her heart trip slightly, which made her even crosser. A couple of times yesterday in the studio, she’d been horribly aware of his closeness and had developed a fascination for the dark hairs on his wrists as he manipulated the mouse. She was not eighteen any more. Gabe was an attractive man, there was no denying that, but she did not have feelings for him. Never had, really. Raging teenage hormones had brainwashed her into believing something which was complete fantasy. With the memory swept a blush that burned her face and she had to turn away and bend down, pretending to fuss with one of her socks.

She drank calming green tea as Gabe talked to Haruka and she watched as he gradually relaxed, his smiles less guarded and his eyes starting to dance with amusement and animation. By the time a second cup of tea had been drunk, Gabe was teasing Haruka with a warm, gentle affection that surprised Fiona. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed this softer side to him existed.

‘Haruka san, you make the best tea in Japan.’ He raised the tiny china bowl, dwarfed in his large hands, and bowed to her.

‘And you, Gabriel san, are full of bull.’

Fiona almost snorted her tea out of her nose while Gabriel roared with laughter.

Haruka smiled serenely at the pair of them and dusted an invisible crumb from the table.

‘I’d forgotten how long you lived in America, Haruka san.’

She pressed her hands together and bowed, that irrepressible twinkle lighting her dark eyes.

***

Despite the visible softening of his character, he turned taciturn as soon as they left the house. When they emerged from the busy station at the other end, she was too busy concentrating on following him as he weaved the crowded streets at top speed to attempt to talk to him again, something she thought was deliberate on his part.

‘Here you go. The Skytree. Officially the tallest tower in the world, although not the tallest building. There’s a definite distinction of which locals are very proud.’ He handed over a sheet of paper. ‘I booked online. Here’s your ticket.’ He flicked his watch out from his sleeve. ‘I’ll meet you back here in two hours. It takes a while to get up there and I’m sure you’ll want to take lots of pictures. Visibility should be good.’

Too gobsmacked to say a word, Fiona took the proffered ticket.

‘See you later,’ he said, adding flippantly, ‘Have fun,’ and before she could collect her somewhat scattered wits, he’d wheeled around and disappeared into the flow of people passing by. She didn’t even have a chance to frame the words, ‘But, but …’

By the time she’d built a head of steam and hit fuming, ready to give him a piece of her mind, he was long gone. Had he really dumped her again?

‘Why the arrogant pr—!’ she muttered under her breath, clenching her fingers into tight fists. She’d never hit anyone or wanted to, in her life but Gabe was bidding to be the very first candidate. How dare he leave with such obvious haste, as if she were a nasty virus he was trying to avoid catching? It was hardly flattering.

And she was assailed by memories, not for the first time. Sick embarrassment coiled in her stomach. He’d given no sign that he remembered or recognised her. Surely it wasn’t anything to do with that. No, he was a rude, uncommunicative git who wasn’t even attempting to play mentor. Still boiling mad, she was drawn forward into the hordes of tourists all pushing their way into the lift heading to the first viewing level, the Tembo Deck. Despite her anger, she couldn’t fail to admire the technology and design mastery that had gone into the tower. It had all mod cons with additional bells and whistles. Built a few years ago, this tower had been designed to entertain and enthral its visitors, as well as make sure they didn’t have to actually climb the stairs to any of the mind-boggling four-hundred-and-fifty floors.

The first viewing platform on the mere three-hundred-and-fortieth floor offered an incredible view of the city, including a glass floor where you could see all the way down to the ground.

Fiona hesitated on the threshold of the glass.

‘Safe as houses, honey,’ said a friendly American man with an encouraging smile. Hmm, she thought, thinking of the three little pigs’ houses.