Page 10 of Who Said Mobsters Were Scary?
Holy fuck. It’s him. The guy from the club last night.
Electricity dances down my spine, making my skin tingle as I stare at him and can’t believe my eyes.
This can’t be. It’s a coincidence. There’s no way I’ll randomly run into him on the next day like this. This must be someone else who just happens to look exactly like him.
Except, he chooses that moment to smile at something, flashing that lopsided smile for a brief second. Yep, it’s the man from last night. And he also has dimples.
Flabbergasted, I just keep squatting behind the couch as I watch him and the other three men wait for the elevator. In the light of day, I can make out his chiseled face. His jaw is sharp and prominent and so is his brow ridge, but he has a touch of androgyny that softens his features and gives him an air of elegance. He’s clean-shaven and while his hair is black, it has a brownish nuance to it where light hits it right. The dark blue suit he’s wearing today accentuates his athletic body, though as I take in the exquisite quality of it, I wonder how he was able to move the way he did last night in something so luxurious and form-hugging. I already thought he was a badass, but I had no idea he’s also as handsome as those K-Pop idols I see on TV.
The elevator dings as it arrives and they board it, unaware of the profound moment I’m experiencing after running into a guy I’d never thought I’d meet again. The door closes and the floor number changes, but my brain is too preoccupied trying to rationalize what I just witnessed, so it can’t do more than keep me ducked behind the couch and staring at the display.
A couple of minutes later, I’m finally out of my stupor. I stand up and smooth out my black T-shirt, then glare at the design. It’s a red motorbike with no background that matches my red shorts and is nothing like his expensive suit.
That’s my cue to go back to the restaurant despite my piqued curiosity. He and I are strangers from different worlds that just happened to share the pleasure of beating up some guys last night.
Why was he there though? And who is he?
I frown at the nagging questions, heading to the stairs.It doesn’t matter.He’s clearlysomeoneand one look was enough to tell me that I’m better off not getting involved.
Only, I head upstairs rather than back to the restaurant.
“Shit, Leo, just what are you doing?” I mumble to myself, checking that there is no one around as I start down the corridor on floor ten. That’s what number the elevator display stopped at when I glanced at it before giving into my stupid urge to find out who this man is.
Brilliant plan, Leo. Sneaking around office buildings on your first day of your reformed life in Japan is exactly the kind of thing you should be doing.
Yes, brain, I know. Reformed Leo never stood a chance.
I find nothing but offices until I turn right when I reach an intersection of corridors. A glassed-off conference room with a balcony occupies the far end, and inside it the mysterious guy and his three companions are talking to a woman in a stylish gray pantsuit and a sunhat. I can’t see her face well because of the massive sunglasses she’s wearing, but I do spot the four men on the balcony outside who must’ve come with her.
My blood thrums in my ears and goosebumps erupt all over my arms. Against my better judgment, I approach the door. There are big potted plants on both sides, obscuring me from view. I can’t hear anything—and even if I could, it’s not like I’d understand what they were saying—but from here I can get a better look. My attention shifts from the woman to my badass stranger as he opens his arms wide, stretching the material of that suit.
Man, he’s kinda cool. And he works out and keeps fit to have shoulders almost as wide as mine. His thighs look strong as well, and I bet he can strangle people—
My phone dings with a text message. I jump, stumbling and falling on my ass. My heart explodes into a sprint, needles prickling my neck and back.Shit, shit, shit, did they hear me?
I scramble to turn my phone to silent mode and curse Naomi for choosing this exact moment to ask me if I’m constipated. My ears pound and the humidity on my skin turns cold as I clamber up to a crouched position and look inside the conference room. For a few moments, I still, not even daring to breathe. The woman is talking. Her companions are still on the balcony. The three men that came with Club Guy are still standing near the empty bookshelf.
I let out a deep, shuddering sigh that shakes me to my core. And then I look at the mysterious man and meet his gaze head on. Alertness washes through me, stirring every nerve ending awake. I swallow hard past the lump forming in my throat. The tips of my fingers go numb.
Did he see me? No, he couldn’t have. The plant is big enough to hide me. He just happened to look this way, probably impressed by its massive leaves.
Squeezing the edge of the pot, I try to chase the panic away. The people inside couldn’t have heard the ringtone, not with the glass being so thick. He didn’t see me.
I blink slowly and shake off the paralysis, then I look inside the room again. He raises one eyebrow ever so slightly, his gaze firm and most definitely and without a question trained on me. I bite my bottom lip.
Oh fuck.
His brown eyes, intent and unwavering, shimmer with dark amusement that threatens to enthrall me fully, and I give in for a few moments before my brain decides to function again.
Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He saw me and he knows I’m spying on him.
Heat rushing to my cheeks and terror to my banging heart, I scurry back and bolt. I take the stairs two-three at a time, not daring to look back. Loud heaving accompanies my escape, my ears deaf to everything else but my labored breaths and my thundering pulse.
When I reach the first floor, the bill has already been taken care of, so I shove some money to Naomi and usher everyone out of the restaurant. My agitation doesn’t go away until we enter the subway and I’m sure I’m not being followed.
“You okay, Leo? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Naomi jokes, plopping on the seat next to me.
The rest of the exchange students laugh, asking me how my encounter with Hanako from the toilet went. I have no idea what they are talking about, but I play along anyway, finding out in the process that they’ve been looking up popular urban legends.
