“How are you?” Yakura asks, and some of the tension in my body disappears. Iris thrives under these kinds of circumstances given my aversion to them. Small talk happens to be my least favorite form of communication, right up there with smoke signals and group texts.
Her smile seems far less forced than mine. “Everything is great. Same old, same old over here. Just busy working my life away one day at a time.”
Our eyes meet through the camera, and mine narrow in silent warning.
“Sounds like you need a vacation. Perhaps even a honeymoon from what I hear.” He raises a brow.
Iris’s smile drops a fraction before she bounces back. “I see you heard about our news.”
“I’m a bit offended I found out the big news from my wife. I thought we were friends.” He frowns.
Somehow that word seems to be haunting me regardless of the person.
I’m not sure why people are so infatuated with becoming my friend. They would find me lacking in every way, from never remembering their birthday to always leaving their messages unread.
“I sent a wedding e-invitation to your assistant since everything was such a whirlwind, but it must have not made it to you.” Iris pouts on command, like the idea of Yakura missing our wedding tears her up inside.
“She must have missed it. I get so many emails each day, I practically take up a whole cloud of storage space.”
She waves him off. “No worries. It was spur of the moment anyway.” Iris lays her diamond-clad hand on my shoulder, and Yakura’s eyes track the movement. I remain stiff in my seat as a burning sensation in my gut surges to life.
“I’d say. I never knew you two were together, although my wife had her suspicions. Part of me is annoyed she was right this entire time.”
“Your wife is a smart woman,” Iris says.
“How did you two keep it a secret for this long?”
“You know Declan. He always keeps his business and personal life separate.”
“Don’t I know it. He wouldn’t even tell me his favorite color when I asked him.”
“Green like a crisp hundred-dollar bill,” she responds with a grin.
The urge to roll my eyes nearly overtakes me.
“Is that right?” Yakura’s eyes brighten as he looks at me.
“Yes.” No.
Iris gives my shoulder a pat of approval. Years ago, when Iris asked me about my favorite color, I told her I didn’t have one. Naturally, given her frequent bouts of insanity, she adopted one for me. It’s become a running joke on her end where every gift-giving occasion includes something green, as if oversaturating me with the color will make me like it.
It doesn’t. If anything, it always reminds me of her.
“Well, I won’t take up too much of your time. But while I have both of you here, I would like to discuss a unique opportunity regarding the Dreamland Tokyo proposal.”
This is what you’ve been waiting for. My breath stalls in my lungs as I wait for him to continue.
“I would like to move forward with the project on a few conditions.”
I don’t blink. I don’t smile. I don’t do anything but stare into the camera, wondering how this proposal won him over compared to the others.
What changed?
Who gives a shit? All that matters is he wants to work together.
“Fantastic. The Kane Company would be excited to work with you and turn Dreamland Tokyo into a reality.”
He nods. “I am excited as well. But I would like you to iron out a few last details before I present the deal to the board.”
“Of course. Whatever you need,” I reply despite the tiny tic in Iris’s jaw through the camera.
Yakura claps his hands together as he reviews the changes he would like me to address, including Japanese sponsors he wants brought on to the project. “Great. Will it be too much trouble to ask for an updated proposal with a project timeline so I can share it with the company board this Friday?”
The hand on my shoulder tightens around the tendons, but Iris remains quiet.
“No trouble at all.”
“Fantastic. I knew you would be up to the challenge.”
I’d be an idiot not to. This project is supposed to be my first big move as the future CEO, and I didn’t spend the last two years of my life working weeknights and weekends to squander it.
Iris’s nails dig into the fabric of my suit. I look up at the computer screen to find her face devoid of any kind of emotion, which is a warning sign.
Her anger is warranted but some things take precedence. Opportunities aren’t a matter of luck, but rather hard work and sacrifices. A few more days on the clock won’t kill her. She will have plenty of chances to watch animals shit, fuck, and sleep, as long as we accomplish Yakura’s request first.