“Why should she trust you? When you weren’t honest with her about anything?”
At the comment, Ronin turned to face Shiori, leaning in the doorway, still wearing her gi. “You’re ballsy enough to speak of honesty to me?”
She tsk-tsked. “How quickly you’ve forgotten the importance of discretion.” She gave Knox a haughty be gone with you gesture.
“Knox stays.”
“We don’t bring outsiders into family business.”
“Guess you broke that rule when you introduced me to Naomi and f**ked up my life. I trust Knox implicitly, and he might just be the only thing keeping me from killing you.”
Knox leaned forward, blocking her from Ronin’s sight. “Not helping. Take it down a notch.”
Shiori sidestepped Knox and sat at the end of the table. “Don’t feign surprise that you forced my hand and my appearance in Denver by insisting that the company hire your latest squeeze.”
“I didn’t force anything. I provided the name of a qualified designer for a project you discussed with me months ago. You want me to take an interest in the company, and when I do, you still question my motives.”
She steepled her fingers. “So your interest in this specific Okada project is your way of telling me you’re considering taking the reins?”
“That’s always been your dream, not mine,” Ronin stated. “How long are you here?”
“Undecided.”
“I didn’t think Grandfather let you out of his sight.”
“You wouldn’t know, since you haven’t been around both of us together for a long time, have you?”
Zing. He deserved that. “Did you arrive with an entourage?”
“Just Jenko. He insisted on checking the security at the Ritz since I’ve leased the penthouse for the foreseeable future. He also interviewed potential security specialists, should I require one. I doubt that’ll be necessary, and I’m looking forward to a little breathing room.”
Jenko, Shiori’s bodyguard, wasn’t employed by the family company, Okada; therefore, he didn’t answer to their grandfather. Hiring the former Sumo wrestler was one of the few things she’d done against their patriarch’s wishes. “Jenko won’t remain in Denver with you?”
A look of sorrow flashed in her eyes. “He has a wife and daughter. It’s not fair to ask him to be away from them indefinitely.” She inhaled a calming breath. “Look, I’ll admit I didn’t arrive in Denver with good intentions toward Amery. But I did have good intentions toward you, Ronin. I wanted to see if you were being taken advantage of by this woman.”
“Because I’m such a f**king idiot and an easy mark when it comes to women?”
“No. I’m really sorry for the way I handled it, okay?” Shiori picked at her fingernails, a nervous habit she’d had for years.
Ronin had no response for that.
“Putting aside our personal differences, I’ll need a place to practice while I’m in Denver. May I have your permission to train here, in whatever capacity best suits the dojo?”
“Who are you training with in Tokyo?”
“Masaman. A protégé of your sensei. The best I could get.”
As far as Ronin knew, he was the last student his sensei had consented to teach—and that’d been twenty-two years ago. “In your defense, he’s never taken a woman as a pupil.”
“That seems to be a tradition you’re following.”
“Wrong. I have female students.”
“Ah. But do you have any female instructors?”
“No.”
Shiori cocked her head. “Because you don’t feel women are as qualified to teach as men?”
Ronin did not want to get into a gender-equality argument with his sister.
But you can admit she has a point.
“I’ve not had any women apply for an instructor’s position.”
“But you do have female students at black belt level you could’ve moved up?” she pressed.
“A few. But like I said, none of them have expressed interest.”
“Perhaps they’re afraid to be the first to break the Black Arts glass ceiling. Along those lines, what is the protocol for my visitor’s status?”
“Having a higher-ranking belt than my Shihan hasn’t come up before, so we don’t have protocol in place. I’ll discuss options with my instructors and let you know.” Maybe he’d have his sister put her money where her mouth was and assign her to teach classes.
“Thank you.” She stood. “I’m not returning to Japan until things are settled between us. I screwed up. I’ve apologized. I don’t expect immediate forgiveness, but I do expect you to acknowledge that the person you’re angriest with is . . . yourself.”
She walked out, regal as a warrior queen.
Unbelievable. His pesky little sister still had the ability to get under his skin.
Knox cleared his throat.
“What?”
“I hear you muttering. And not to be a dick, but I agree with your sister. While she stirred the pot, the shit stew that was already in it was all yours.”
A sense of self-loathing rose again. Ronin closed his eyes.
“Let it go, my man. You can sort things out with Amery when she returns from wherever she’s gone. Don’t you always preach to control the things you can and ignore the rest? You can’t control this.”
“I’m a postulating ass**le sometimes, aren’t I?”
Knox grinned. “Only on the days of the week ending in Y.”
• • •
IT’D been one week since Ronin had seen Amery.
One week.
Seven f**king days without a word from her.
He hadn’t gone back to her loft. But he hadn’t stopped calling her once an hour. His way of letting her know he thought of her every waking hour of his day.
Then maybe you should leave a message so she’ll call you back.
“Ronin?”
He turned away from brooding out his office window and faced Deacon. “Hey. What’s up? I didn’t think you were coming in today.”
“I hadn’t planned on it. But I got some bad news yesterday.”
“What’s going on?”
Deacon ran his hand across his bald head and sighed. “You know my grandfather died a few months back and his estate is in limbo. My dad’s been trying to mediate all this inheritance shit between his brother and sister. My aunt hired an attorney, which we all expected, and he’s scheduled a meeting for next Thursday afternoon.”