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Mike would appeal to her appet.i.te.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR.
Claudia Oppenheimer was a tall and svelte German woman with platinum blonde hair and a body like an exclamation point. The fur about her neck sat brushed to a gloss, worn in spite of the warmth. Oppenheimer positioned herself across from Daichi, who wore an oxford with the sleeves rolled up, and Deena, whose short-sleeved blouse was the most appropriate for the weather.
Oppenheimer, who sat taller than both Daichi and Deena, looked down a beak of a nose as she spoke. The conversation she insisted upon was completely irrelevant, and consisted of what Deena thought of men who played polo or women who gouged on strawberries. When she confessed that she had no idea such women existed, Oppenheimer laughed as though Deena had a knack for comedy. Daichi sat through it all, pain-faced and quietly obliging, leaving Deena to do most of the talking.
In the end, Oppenheimer agreed to come on board. Deena's aura was pleasing and her palate sensible, and with that, they could form a formidable team, Oppenheimer said. Deena and Daichi exchanged a look of curiosity, a look of "what-the-f.u.c.k" as Tak was fond of saying, before smothering a laugh they would later enjoy.
That afternoon, Tak, John and Kenji tossed a Frisbee on the stretch of beach behind the house as Deena thumbed through a book on the art and architecture of ancient Egypt on the terrace. Intermittently, she looked up to watch Tak, s.h.i.+rtless and hard-bodied, wet with sweat and ocean water as he moved. At least once, she s.h.i.+vered.
"Deena," Michael said, appearing at the back door. "Just the person I was looking for. Mind if I join you?'
He took a seat on the swing without need of her answer.
Mike reached over and lifted her book for a peek. "Ancient Egypt, huh? That mind of yours doesn't rest. Not even on vacation."
Deena met his gaze. "I'm not on vacation. You are."
He nodded. "Sorry, I forgot."
He took a deep and dramatic breath.
"Deena, I've something to tell you. I-I think you're breathtaking."
She lowered her book with a sigh. "Michael, I'm not in the market for a boyfriend."
He nodded. "No, no. I understand."
He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "I know what it is that you want. And I want to give it to you."
"Give it to me?" Deena echoed. She leaned back to place a buffer between the two of them.
"Yes. I know what you need, and I'm man enough, mature enough, to give it to you. You want to be free. You want s.e.xual freedom. I can give that to you. I'm telling you; I'd give you anything."
"I want what?" Deena echoed, confused.
"Exploration. And I don't mind. I have to be honest with you. The moment I saw you, I was breathless. I'd do anything to be with you. I'd-"
"Mike, wait. There's something you're not understanding."
"No, I understand. And I'm okay with it. You might not think it, but I can please you. Just give me a chance. Try me out."
Deena stood, her book clattering to the floor.
"I don't know what you're talking about but I want you to stop talking about it."
"Just think about it," Michael said, kneeling to scoop up the book. He paused to dust it off. "I know you're type, and I know that in certain circles, your lifestyle isn't acceptable."
"My lifestyle?"
"Yeah. I mean, I don't use words like 's.l.u.t' or 'wh.o.r.e.' They're judgmental and s.e.xist. But we're missing the point. I don't want to be c.u.mbersome. We could start with a one night stand if you want, no commitment of course, and-"
"A what? Oh my G.o.d! Get away from me!"
Deena pin wheeled back into the terrace railing, upturning a gla.s.s of lemonade in her descent.
Michael's gaze narrowed in confusion.
A few yards away, the Frisbee glided to the ground as Tak stood, watching Deena fall. He took in her cowering posture, backed into the porch railing, and tore across the hot sand to reach them.
"What the h.e.l.l's going on?" he demanded on arrival.
Deena's eyes watered. "He called me a s.l.u.t!"
"He what?"
Tak turned on Mike.
Mike sighed. "That's not what I said. All I said was that girls like her tend to prefer s.e.xual freedom."
Tak took a step closer. "Run that by me one more time."
"I said that girls like her prefer s.e.x-"
Spittle flew with the insertion of fist to face. With a yelp, Mike toppled, blood spewing from his mouth. He staggered to the ground in stages, a hand to his face as he shrieked.
"f.u.c.k!" Tak said.
With a grimace, he shook his hand, a hand streaked with blood.
"f.u.c.k!"
Tak's head dropped as he gripped his wrist; eyes squeezed shut, he bent forward.
Behind Tak, John and Kenji tore across the beach. When they got to the terrace, John placed a hand at Tak's chest to hold him in check.
"Feel better?" John said quietly.
"You better f.u.c.king believe it."
John grinned. "Thought so."
From his cowering position on the floor, Mike began to yell.
"You hit me! Why the h.e.l.l did you hit me?"
Tak took a step, only to have John push him back.
"Cause you don't listen, Mike! She's my girl. Mine. And I warned you."
Mike sat up with a whimper, a hand at his nose. Blood coursed between his fingers.
"s.h.i.+t," John said. He turned on his brother. "Why the h.e.l.l couldn't you just back off?" He went and offered a hand. Mike slapped it away.
"You're taking his side? I'm your brother! Your G.o.dd.a.m.ned brother!"
"You're an idiot is what you are." John turned to Deena. "Do you see what happened? Didn't I tell you that this would happen?"
Deena's eyes widened. "You're blaming me?"
"s.h.i.+t yeah I'm blaming you. The only reason it didn't happen sooner is because me and Kenji have been running interference all over the G.o.dd.a.m.ned place!"
"I was supposed to know Tak would break his hand on Mike's face?"
"Yeah! I did!"
John turned to Tak with a look of disgust. "Now what? You probably broke his f.u.c.king nose-and, and by the looks of you, your hand, too."
Tak winced. "I think you might be right."
John brought his palms together before his lips. "Okay. Just-give me a minute to think."
"Think? G.o.dd.a.m.nit, do something. He just-just punched me in the face!"
"Well it's not like you didn't deserve it!" John cried. He shook his head and returned to his cousin.
"You see, Tak?" This is why I told you to just tell him. You know how he is. He never quits."
"I'm sitting right here," Mike said, his hand slick from the still-gus.h.i.+ng blood.
"Well what are we going to do? We can't just take them in the house like this," Kenji said.
"I know, I know," John looked at Tak, who clutched his wrist in an effort to steady the afflicted hand. "Are you all right?"
Tak shook his head. "The pain's killing me. And my hand's swelling up."
"Never mind me, who's bleeding to death on the floor," Mike said.
John sighed. "You should've left her alone. Daichi said so, Tak said so, and she turned you down every chance she got. I don't know, Mike, maybe this is what you needed."
John pulled his brother up and wrapped his arm around his shoulder.
"There something wrong with your legs?" he asked, wondering why it was so difficult to steady his older brother.
"I'm dizzy. I need to lie down."
John sighed.
"s.h.i.+t. You guys need a doctor."
Tak shook his head. "I can't go to a doctor. If my dad finds out-"
"We'll just have to make up something then."
Mike balked. "And if I don't want to go along with your lies?"
Tak took a step forward. "Then maybe I can give you a little encouragement with the hand that still works."
Mike looked from his cousin Kenji, to his brother, each with gazes devoid of sympathy. He sighed.
"Fine. What's the story?"
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE.
Yukiko was no longer listening to Tak.u.mi's c.u.mbersome explanation. She simply couldn't, less her migraine grow worse.
They were playing football.
Michael was playing football?
Well, he was nearby.
Close enough for an elbow to hit him yet not in the game?
Yeah.
And your hand?
What about it?
There's nothing wrong with my hand.