“How have you been? I’ve noticed your films,” Ito said, his gaze fixed on Jade.
“Colonel,” Jade said in slow and measured Japanese. “I’ve no doubt there are plenty of women here who would be happy to talk to you. I’m not one of them.”
“But they don’t interest me. Look, do you know what it’s like when one has everything?”
“Can’t imagine,” Jade said sarcastically; nevertheless, Ito knew she was being pulled in.
“I have wealth, youth, intelligence, power, women . . . There’s nothing I lack. I never have to try very hard. It starts to become very dull—even the company of pretty women. It’s so rare to see something that genuinely piques my interest, as you do.”
“Why?”
Ito rested his chin on one hand and looked into Jade’s lovely black eyes. Her skin was lucent and velvety, from her cheeks all the way to the marble-like décolletage above her V-shaped neckline. She was at her peak radiance as a woman and was not even aware of it. It almost gave him pain.
“I will tell you if you dance with me,” he said at last. “Don’t refuse. You’re a dancer and this is a terrific waltz.”
He stood up and extended his hand. People were watching them out of the corners of their eyes: the handsome Japanese millionaire, newly made a count, who had just bought gold and iron mines from a French businessman; and the famous actress in all the movies. She took his hand.
Everyone watched them dance. The normally well-trained café girls stopped serving the guests and stood off to the side to whisper to one another. The count and the actress made a brilliant pair.
Yamada observed the change in his friend with quiet fascination. Ito moved with easy confidence, drawing the woman’s waist close to his body with one arm. Yamada had never danced before in his life. For a moment he imagined it was himself whose arm encircled the beautiful woman in the middle of the dance floor. Ito had been right about her—she was exceptional. It was not just her face and body, which were both imperfect, but the quality of her presence and movement that drew one’s eyes.
The couple parted when the song ended, and Ito walked over to Yamada’s table.
“She wants to leave, and I said I’ll give her a ride back. Will you be okay taking a cab?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll see you soon. Tell Mineko I said hello.”
LOTUS AND JADE WALKED OUT together and Ito followed, putting on his coat one sleeve after the other; he opened the car door himself for them and got in on the other side. By the time the car stopped in front of Lotus’s house, misty streaks had turned into a heavy, icy downpour. Jade hugged her friend goodbye, but sensed that the wall between them had returned, even more impenetrable than before. It made her feel uneasy and depressed, and she kept her face turned resolutely to the window on the way to her home. The car was silent save for the metallic patter on the roof and the wheels churning over the mud like paddles of a boat.
“You can stop right here,” Jade said in front of her house, and the driver pulled over. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Wait.” Ito grabbed her hand. “Can I come in?”
Jade shook her head.
“Come now, we had a nice time tonight. You can’t still be mad at me for behaving roughly all those years ago.”
“You might seem nicer now, and you’re no longer in the military, but you’re still the same. I will never like you.” As Jade spoke, the image of Ito in her dressing room flashed before her eyes and reminded her of his true essence—his casual brutality.
“Liking has nothing to do with anything. My wife and I have never liked each other and we have the best marriage.” Ito smiled contemptuously. “There is no love such as the ones you see in novels and films. Between a man and a woman, the only thing that matters is the exchange of what each one needs from the other . . . Indeed, a bit of dislike can add to the passion, I find.” He pulled her wrist toward him and leaned in to kiss her neck.
“I need nothing from you,” she said, pushing him away.
“Giving some chase is fine but don’t be stupid. I hate stupidity,” he said savagely just before she shook herself free of his grip, opened the door, and dashed out.
She made a run for her house before Ito could catch up with her. Over the din of the downpour, she thought she could hear his car door opening.
There was a man in a newsboy cap and a neat overcoat under the eaves of her front gates, waiting for the rain to pass. She realized that it was JungHo and ran straight into his arms.