Owl and the Japanese Circus (9 page)

Up until three months ago, when Rynn had kissed me . . . and I’d decided the best course of action was to avoid Japan and thereby him for three months. Have I mentioned I suck with people? If I was honest with myself though, I missed talking to him. He’s the one person who doesn’t give me a lecture every time I bring up vampires.

I downed my Corona and glanced again at the crowd. I liked Rynn a lot; it was hard not to. But therein lay the problem.

Rynn’s job was to make people like him.

It goes with working at the Gaijin Cloud. I had no idea if he’d kissed me because he liked me or because I’m a client that drops five hundred bucks a night. I had no idea where the gray line blurred for the staff, and I didn’t want to ask. I
really
didn’t want to talk about it. But Nadya had a point. If I wanted to keep being friends with Rynn, I might have to.

Buzzed, I had enough liquid courage coursing through my brain that I could have a conversation with Rynn without turning into an awkward mess. I put the empty bottle down and waved for another. “Back in a minute.”

“Good luck,” Nadya said.

“Screw you.” I grabbed Corona #2 and left her flirting with a blond who bore a striking resemblance to a character out of Final Fantasy.

I headed through the crowd towards the back. Gaijin Cloud had a number of theme rooms, nothing kinky . . . except one, but the leather and chains were more of a fashion statement than anything else. I started with those. I stuck my head in each one; Rynn’s blond hair and
assortment of leather jackets was pretty distinct. I couldn’t find him. In the last room before the stairs that led to the rooftop bar and patio, I found a bartender I did recognize—Kitu, a redheaded woman who was constantly perky, like a Japanese version of a cheerleader.

“Hey, Kitu,” I said, wedging myself up to the bar. “You see Rynn anywhere?”

She leaned over and flashed me a smile worthy of any Japanese RPG heroine. “Hi, Owl. Long time no see.” She scanned thoughtfully around the room before shaking her head. “Hmmm, I thought I saw him in here earlier . . . does he know you’re stopping in?”

I shook my head. It occurred to me he might be with someone. If I couldn’t actually find Rynn, I might get off easy tonight, though now that I’d worked up the courage, it didn’t feel like quite the coup it should have been.

I took one more look around the main room and decided I needed some fresh air. This time of year I doubted many people would be out on the patio. I could check my phone for any emails or messages and breathe for a minute. Living in a Winnebago had lowered my tolerance for crowds.

The night was cold and the drizzle still fell, dampening the air and ground. No one else was outside, so I staked out a seat by the summer bar, where there was some cover, and pulled out my phone.

“Leave it to you to find the most exclusive seat in the house,” Rynn said from the doorway.

You know that feeling when someone takes you by surprise and your insides try to tell you it’s a good one, but your brain disagrees? Yeah.

“Hey, Rynn,” I said, keeping my voice as even and neutral as possible. I swiveled my chair around. Damn, just when you think someone can’t get any better looking . . .
Focus, Owl, Focus.
“I tried to find you inside.”

He sidled up beside me at the bar, two beers in hand. He passed one to me. Good timing, since I’d finished Corona #2.

“Hmmmm, I can imagine that conversation now. What does someone say to a friend they’ve been ignoring for three months over club music in a crowd of people?”

OK, this was a lot more neutral than I’d imagined, though Rynn was a bitch to read on a good day. Even after a year, I still had no idea where the hell he was from. If I believed all his innuendos, he’d lived just about everywhere.

I let out a breath. “OK, I’m going to get the apology out of the way before this conversation goes any further, because I’m pretty sure I owe you one . . .”

“Oh? Really? Whatever for?” he said, the sarcasm now obvious.

So maybe not so neutral. Still fixable. I just had to figure out what to say . . . I opened my mouth, but Rynn stopped me.

“Just came outside to say hi and refill your beer,” he said. He touched the top of his forehead in a mock salute and headed back for the door.

Shit.

I could feel my heart pounding. Nine times out of ten I say the wrong thing under stress, and the only person besides Nadya who’s been able to look past that—and my complete reluctance to engage in personal conversations—is Rynn.

“Rynn, please come back so I can apologize.” I crossed my fingers before saying something that was closer to the truth than even I liked to admit. “I’d really, really hate it if my delinquent people skills screwed up our friendship.”

Hand on the door, Rynn spun around to face me. “And?”

I closed my eyes. I hate having these kinds of personal talks. They only ever set you up to get totally screwed over or hurt. How bad did I want my friendship with Rynn?

“You made me nervous the last time I was here. I didn’t know what to make of it, and personal conversations make me uncomfortable, so I did something stupid and decided to avoid you.” I ran my hand through my hair. “I’m a hell of a lot better with inconsequential
conversations about vampires and RPGs,” I added, hazarding a look at him.

He was still watching me and sizing me up from the doorway. Then he walked back to the outdoor bar and took the seat beside me. “All right,” he said.

“We can go back to talking about RPGs and my vampire problems?” I said, maybe a little too hopefully.

“No. We can have the conversation you didn’t want to have three months ago, and then I’ll decide whether I still want to be friends with you.”

Ouch. All right. I maybe deserved that. I took a deep breath. “Fair enough.” There was no easy way to broach this; best to just blurt it out. “When you kissed me, was it a host/client thing?”

“Why?”

“Because as much as I’m totally OK paying you to talk about my problems—and trust me, it’s worth every penny—I don’t . . . want our client/host relationship to go that direction.” I bit my lower lip. “I’m sorry, Rynn, but it’s creepy. That’s my line in the sand.”

I’d kept my eyes on the bar, but I glanced over at him now.

He was watching me like a hawk. His face was unreadable. “If it wasn’t?”

Another big breath. “That’s an entirely different can of worms. It’d be next to impossible not to have some feelings for you, considering how much I talk to you.”

Rynn took a sip of his beer, his forehead knit in thought. “So just so we’re straight about everything, you disappearing for three months was because you liked me kissing you?”

“OK, well, that’s paraphrasing, and cutting down an awful lot . . .”

He held up his beer to stop me from babbling. “Yes or no?”

He was going to make me say it. I swore under my breath. Rynn was really pushing me here. “Sort of—OK, more or less.”

He sat back, staring at me as if I didn’t quite make sense to him but he was trying to figure it out. I had no idea what was going through
his head. Then he leaned in towards me. I almost leaned in, part of me wanted to, but the price of playing this game was going to be way too high. I sat back. “Rynn. I can’t.”

He sat back and crossed his arms. “Why not?” he said, not meeting my eyes.

I didn’t answer. What was I going to say?

“Owl, I work at a bar that caters to people’s dreams, and part of my job is to fulfill them—to a point.” He looked up at me with those dark blue eyes. “It doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”

“I know you do.”

He frowned. “That’s funny, because I’m getting the distinct impression you assume everything about me is a show.”

I bit my lower lip. “Honest answer?”

He inclined his head, and I took a much-needed swig of my beer. “Just that kiss.”

Rynn’s frown deepened, and he let out a sharp breath through his nose. “So what? Someone like me can’t possibly have genuine feelings for someone?”

I closed my eyes. This was exactly the part of this conversation I’d been dreading. “No. That’s not it at all. I know you care about me, and even though I pay to come in here and talk to you, I consider you a good friend.”

“But.” It was a statement, not a question.

I locked eyes. “I’m not in a spot where I can risk getting hurt by you. I’d rather keep you as a friend. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t have many.”

The only thing I heard for a few minutes was the cacophony of traffic and voices from the street below and the bass drifting up from the club.

“Rynn, can we please still be friends?”

He watched me, unreadable as ever. For a moment I thought he was going to say no. Then he looked away.

“We’re OK, Owl.” He slid off the chair and offered his hand. The
relief on my face must have been obvious, because he put his arm around my shoulder and steered me back towards the door.

“You know, you could have just said you weren’t interested. I think that might have been kinder.”

“Yeah. I thought about it. But stacking little white lie upon little white lie is what usually gets me into trouble.”

He inclined his head. “You do seem to have a habit for attracting trouble. What is this I hear about you evading your vampire problem?”

Shit. Rynn had a natural knack for getting people to talk when they shouldn’t. “What did Nadya tell you?”

He shrugged. “Surprisingly little.”

I took a deep breath. “What if I told you I found someone—something—that can take care of my vampire problem?” And with that I filled him in on my run-in with Mr. Kurosawa, including the part about him being a dragon.

He studied my face until I was done. “You’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “You should be locked up in a mental institution.”

I smiled. Rynn’s voice had an amused tone to it. “So I finally found where your belief suspends itself. Dragons.”

He glanced over at me before opening the sliding door, a single eyebrow arched. “Let’s just say regardless of what I think about the existence of dragons, it’s the part about you not knowing when to quit I find disturbing.”

We headed back into the warmth and crowd of the club. When we reached the second floor, Rynn pulled me into a corner and up against him. His arm wrapped around the small of my back before I got over my surprise.

“Rynn—” I said, warning in my voice.

He leaned in and kissed me. It was as good as I remembered, and I couldn’t bring myself to push him away or otherwise stop him. This was not helping me get over my crush, but this close, his breath on my face and the smell of his cologne . . . I wrapped my fingers around his neck and kissed back.

Rynn took it as encouragement. I gave out a little gasp as he moved on to my neck. I knew I should break it off, but it felt too good.

After a few moments Rynn stopped kissing me, but he didn’t let go.

“I figured I’d take one last chance to change your mind. I promise I won’t do that again until you ask me.”

I nodded. I wasn’t in any condition to say anything. Damn,
that
was why I’d stayed away for three months. I remembered now.

Rynn walked me back to the main room. Nadya saw me immediately and waved from the bar.

“You coming back in before you leave Tokyo this time?” Rynn asked, almost as an afterthought.

I shook my head, still recovering. “Ahhh, I don’t know—it depends on how things go tomorrow with a contact. Might have to hop on a plane fast.”

He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Just let me know you’re alive this time.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Rynn headed back into the crowd, and I rejoined Nadya.

“How are you feeling?” Nadya asked as soon as I sat down.

I shook my head. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

Nadya patted me on the back. “My good deed is done then. You’re welcome. Old Russian saying—”

“Let me guess. ‘Sometimes what your friend really needs is a good shove under a moving bus’?”

She shrugged her coat on and shot me a smile. “More or less.”

We headed outside in the drizzle. It was refreshing after the crowded Gaijin Cloud.

At a stoplight I pulled my phone out to run over the Bali files I’d accumulated and noticed a new text message along with a new contact entry. I did a double take as I saw the name. Rynn.

Remember. Call me.

“Son of a bitch.”

Nadya frowned at me, and I held up my phone. “Rynn. I don’t know how, but he got into my cell phone,” I said.

Nadya’s smile turned into a Cheshire grin. I glared back. “Goddamn it, he could have asked,” I mumbled, and then it buzzed again.

BTW, who’s Dragon Lady?

I shook my head.
Guess. New boss, sort of—I’ll fill you in later.
In all honesty, I had no idea what I was going to do about Rynn. Things just seemed so much more confused and jumbled up than they had been a few hours ago. “Just when you think you know someone.”

“Hmmm?” Nadya said.

The stoplight turned green. “Never mind.” I looped my arm in hers. “Come on, I’ve got work to do.” If I was lucky, I’d get through cross-referencing the other Bali temple digs tonight. Fat chance I’d find anything, but it was worth a shot in case the International Archaeology Association had missed cleaning something out.

Rynn had a point. If I didn’t find the scroll for Mr. Kurosawa, or at the very least make a damn good show of finding it, I’d be playing hide-and-seek in a dragon’s casino very soon.