SUSHI for ONE? Read online

  Lex gave him a feral smile. “Richard. My most favorite, chaaah-ming brother.”

  He froze, hand still lifted in a welcoming wave. “What have I done now?”

  “George, you doofus.”

  Richard had the grace to wince. “I told him not to do anything stupid.”

  “Oh, you mean like open his mouth?”

  Richard’s smile became pained. “Uh . . . Lex, I came up because I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Aiden.” He gestured to the non-descript guy hanging back behind him.

  Aiden held out his hand, light eyes intense on Lex’s face. “Hi.”

  She returned his brief, firm handshake, and a quiver raced up her arm and down to her toes. Must be nerves. “Hi.”

  She wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be civil to another of Richard’s friends. She peeked over at Robyn — still deep in conversation with Jill.

  “Richard!” A coy feminine voice made him turn and flash that famous Come hither smile.

  “Hi, darling.” He walked away.

  No, no, no! Don’t leave me alone with — !

  Lex attempted a feeble smile at Aiden. He looked so calm and bland. Nice-looking, but not striking enough to make her heart pound — he already had a point against him from her Ephesians List. Although he did meet her eyes directly, which was something Richard and her father never did. “So, Aiden, what do you do?”

  “I’m a physical therapist. I work at Golden Creek Physical Therapy in south San Jose.”

  “Oh.” Lex suppressed a shudder. Why did anything having to do with injuries give her the willies? Another thing to add to the List: Must have an occupation I can say without wigging out.

  Silence.

  Lex glanced at Robyn and tried to will her to finish with Jill so she could talk to her. From their serious expressions, it looked like something important.

  Her gaze bounced back to Aiden. “I’m a manufacturing engineer at Pear Technologies.”

  Aiden nodded. “Richard told me.”

  “How do you know Richard?” Always a good question. Richard collected friends like he used to collect baseball cards.

  “He’s friends with one of my patients. I met him last week.”

  “Oh.” He wasn’t even one of Richard’s close friends, but Richard threw them together. Well, may as well go down the List. “Do you play sports?”

  “I run. I’m training for a marathon right now.” Even when talking about something he obviously enjoyed, Aiden didn’t change his calm expression except to give a half-smile.

  Man, he was boring.

  She sighed. Robyn still talked to Jill, and Lex didn’t feel like being polite anymore. “I hate running. I only do it because I need to, for training.”

  Aiden blinked. “Oh.”

  Lex plunged ahead. “Do you play volleyball?”

  “No, but I’m thinking of picking it up.”

  Scratch Aiden as date material. No way she could respect — much less date — someone who didn’t play volleyball at a higher level. “Take classes. That way you’ll learn proper form and technique.”

  “Uh . . . okay.” He looked at her as if she were a crazy cousin he had to humor.

  Lex didn’t care. This topic was her pet peeve. “I hate playing with people who have sloppy form.”

  “Oh . . . Okay.”

  “It’s dangerous on the court. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen near-miss accidents . . .” She should shut up, she was ranting. “Um . . . It was nice meeting you.” Lex would go and stand next to Robyn’s elbow to let her know she needed to talk to her.

  “You look so much like Trish — ” He ended his sentence oddly, as if he hadn’t intended to say that.

  Lex paused in the act of escaping. “She’s my cousin.”

  “Yeah, Richard told me.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “From . . . the gym.” His eyes drifted left.

  “You really think we look alike?” Lex almost didn’t want to hear his answer. Trish had a bubbly personality. Trish had a decent cup size and curvy hips. Trish attracted men like Fight Night in Vegas.

  “You look exactly like her.”

  She realized he was studying her face. How weird. “Naw, she’s prettier.”

  He shook his head — smart man. “Do you . . . go to the same church?”

  The way he said the word made Lex uncomfortable. “Yeah. Santa Clara Valley Asian Church.” Although come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Trish on Sunday last week.

  Aiden blinked, and a glass shutter dropped over his eyes. He still had that bland, polite smile, but suddenly he seemed farther away from her, even though he hadn’t moved an inch. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “Do you go to chur — ” From the corner of her eye, Lex saw Robyn finally break with Jill and move toward the registration table. “I’m sorry, Aiden, but I need to grab Robyn about something. It was nice meeting you.” She dashed off after Robyn’s figure weaving between the crowd of volleyball players.

  “Lex!” Richard stepped in front of her.

  Lex tried to sidestep, but he moved with her. She stabbed an accusing finger between his eyes. “What’s the big deal, bucko?”

  He jumped back before she poked his eye out. “Uh . . . You didn’t like Aiden?”

  “We had nothing in common. What’s with you playing Love Connection?”

  Richard winced. “Consider it an attempt to make up for George. I feel bad about that.”

  Lex searched for Robyn. She thought she saw her bright yellow T-shirt in the crowd. She whipped back to Richard with her best menacing glare. “You stay out of my love life.”

  “Did Aiden tell you he knows Trish?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Remember when she had to have physical therapy for her shoulder?”

  “You mean that injury from work? Aiden was her therapist?”

  “At first. Then she got transferred to another therapist at his facility.”

  “And this is important to me, why?”

  Richard’s expression baited Lex. “Trish made a move on Aiden, but he wasn’t interested, and he got her transferred to another therapist. She was so peeved that when she found out Aiden’s agnostic, she made a big deal about not dating him because he isn’t Christian.”

  Oh good one, Trish. Way to make Christian girls look stupid. Lex rounded on her atheist brother. “So you introduced him to me to see if I’d diss him too? You dork.” She had dissed him, but it was because she had to talk to Robyn, not because he wasn’t Christian. “We didn’t even talk about religion, so it doesn’t matter.” She stuck her finger at his face again. “In case you missed it the first time — Stay out of my love life. I don’t want to date any of your friends, because they’re all just like you.”

  Richard spread out his arms. “What’s wrong with me? I’m chaaah-ming.” He laughed.

  Lex growled and bopped him on the shoulder with her fist. “I’ll deal with you later.” She dashed after Robyn.

  “Let’s go.” Aiden hustled past Spenser, who was flirting with a cute volleyball player in a sports bra.

  With a hasty goody-bye to the underdressed girl, Spenser followed him to the parking lot. “Already? I thought we were going to stay to watch the whole tournament.”

  “I didn’t think athletic girls were your type.” Aiden hit the button to deactivate his SUV’s car alarm.

  “They’re not.” Spenser grinned. “She came up to me, buddy.”

  His gregarious friend attracted girls like stray dogs to a sausage truck. “Well, I’ve seen enough volleyball today.”

  Spenser opened the passenger side door. “So are you going to listen to me and learn to play volleyball?”

  Aiden hesitated.

  “What’s the problem?” Spenser climbed in and buckled his seat belt. “You get so many clients with volleyball injuries, it’ll only add to your reputation to play it and understand the sport, the kinds of injuries.”

  Aiden glanced out his window b
ack toward the park, picked her out as she talked to a shorter Asian woman with a yellow shirt. Lex stood slimmer than Trish, more graceful. Deeper voice, more outspoken.

  “I saw you talking to her.” Spenser’s voice had that ribbing tone.

  “I’m a masochist.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He didn’t answer. He should have left it alone. Shouldn’t have reacted when Richard carelessly pointed out his sister on the grass volleyball court.

  “Who is she?”

  “You remember that girl, Trish?”

  “The one who came on to you?”

  “That’s her cousin.”

  Spenser peered at Lex again, brows knit. “Is she anything like Trish?”

  “She’s Christian.” That sealed it for him. Yup, his interest in her had officially ended.

  Spenser sighed but didn’t bring up the religion argument again.

  Belatedly, Aiden realized the indirect insult. “No offense.”

  Spenser cocked an eyebrow at him. “None taken.”

  He started the engine. Maybe it was a good thing he’d met Lex. She looked just like Trish, except way more attractive. He should run in the other direction.

  But she’d been beautiful playing on that volleyball court . . .

  She’d also been blunt and borderline rude. His attraction had taken a nosedive when he realized she didn’t feel the same physical pull that he did.

  He started to pull out of the parking space when a horn blared. He hit the brakes. A hefty Explorer roared past.

  Great. Just thinking about the girl would get him killed.

  TEN

  Lex’s heart thudded from her chest down to her stomach as soon as she walked in the glass doors Tuesday morning. Directly ahead of her, the conference room was jam-packed with her coworkers.

  She checked her watch. 9:15 a.m. She had stayed until almost eleven last night — Everett had checked in on her before he left at seven — so she knew she hadn’t gotten an email or a phone call about an all-hands meeting.

  She tried to discreetly edge into the room, but Everett threw her a nasty look from his seat on the far side. She remained standing by the open door, next to Jerry, who swayed visibly. He bumped into her arm. She took a side step away.

  The admin’s whining voice carried over everyone’s nodding heads. “And so, because of all the extra work I’ve been getting, from now on you have to submit a copy of this form — ” She waved a white sheet —“in triplicate, a week before you need it done. No more last-minute things.”

  “Even for a customer?” Anna’s incredulous voice burst out.

  The Gorgon admin’s cheeks colored a dusky orange. “Well, if it’s for a customer — ”

  “Everything is for customers. We don’t ask you to pick up our dry cleaning.”

  Lex almost burst a sinus trying to stifle her sniggering. The admin did exactly that for Everett because she had a crush on him.

  The Gorgon babbled, trying to regain control of the situation.

  Lex’s mind wandered. She had a lot to do today, and sitting — or in her case, standing — in a useless meeting meant she’d need to stay late again.

  When the meeting finally broke, Lex hurried to her desk.

  Yup, she had an email. Sent this morning at 8:30 a.m., calling for “an important mandatory meeting” at nine.

  “Lex, I want to talk to you.” Everett appeared at her elbow, blowing steam. “In my office.”

  A hissing, fizzing pressure started to build in her gut. No way. He knew Lex had stayed late last night, so her being fifteen minutes late this morning shouldn’t be a problem.

  Shouldn’t. This was Everett, after all.

  He slammed his office door behind her. “How dare you miss an all-hands meeting?”

  “You didn’t send the email until 8:30 a.m. today.” Lex’s gut bubbled.

  “You’re supposed to be into work by 9 o’clock.”

  “I stayed here working until eleven last night.” She spoke low to try to keep her voice calm. I have learned the secret of being content . . .

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  Lex had to take a slow breath through flared nostrils before she answered. “You checked in on me before you left last night at seven.”

  “You could have left right after I did.”

  “I sent you an email at eleven, just before I went home.”

  Everett’s thunderous brow knit, then he circled the desk to check his computer. His face grew redder. “Ah . . . You could have altered your computer time stamp.”

  “What?” I have learned the secret of being content . . . content . . . content . . .

  He straightened to face her. He seemed to feel stronger with the desk in between them. “The bottom line is you should have arrived earlier, no matter how late you stayed. It’s an embarrassment to me when you sneak into a mandatory meeting late.”

  Lex felt like an overworked racing engine about to bust a gasket.

  “It wasn’t that important a meeting.”

  “Every meeting is important. You’re on probation as of now.”

  The edges of her vision clouded in, but not because she was going to faint. No, she was going to slap that silly, superior smile off his face.

  “You can’t put me on probation.”

  “And why not?” From Everett’s loose fish lips, sarcasm sounded stupid and silly.

  “Because I quit.”

  Oh my goodness, did she really say that?

  Everett’s eyes and mouth became the size of three baseballs.

  Lex’s brain boiled. She could feel it. And it felt good. “I quit. I could work at Starbucks and get more respect than I do here, and with the hours I put in, it’s the same hourly rate.”

  Lex turned and yanked open the office door. She paused at the threshold to turn and face him. “Everett, you are a complete schmuck!”

  Wow, that felt good.

  She stomped to her desk and grabbed the plastic bag holding her lunch. She collected only her personal items — well, she did steal her favorite pen — shouldered her purse, and marched out the door.

  The sunlight hit her full in the face as she exited. Illuminating the realities she’d ignored while packing up her desk.

  What. Had. She. Done?

  Go right back inside and fix it. Forgive your enemies.

  No way, Jose. Not speaking to Everett ever again.

  Patient endurance, remember? Go talk to the Gorgon admin. She handles all the HR stuff.

  Like she’ d listen to me.

  Nope, this was right. Sure, it would be tough — okay, maybe a little less than impossible — for an engineer to get another job in Silicon Valley. But she had stared into the horrific face of incompetence in Everett, and she wasn’t going to take it anymore. Even a receptionist job — even someplace other than SPZ — would be better than that.

  She marched to her car. She’d fax, mail, and email a copy of her resignation letter from home. Clean, indisputable cut. She was free. Unfettered. Flying high.

  And financially unsound.

  Well, not dead broke. She had enough to survive on for years since she lived at home, but no loan officer would touch her now. Goodbye, condo.

  Her cell rang. “Hello?”

  “Alexis Sakai?”

  “Yes.” She straightened.

  “This is Wendy Tran from SPZ Human Resources. We received your résumé, and we’d like to bring you in for an interview. Are you free tomorrow?”

  Aaack! She was late!

  Lex leaped into her klunk-mobile and peeled out of the driveway. She navigated Highway 85 like a pro, zipping in and out as she drove north to Sunnyvale. Other drivers bore down on their horns with relish.

  She got onto De Anza Boulevard. SPZ’s massive square office building lay just ahead. She darted into the right lane —Squeeeeeal! Bam!

  The jolting impact to her right front slammed her car to a halt.

  Ripping pain across her chest. Then e
erie silence.

  Bright sunlight. No sounds.

  She gasped in a heaving breath. Then another. Her ears started working again, and she heard the honking from the cars stuck behind her.

  Her chest hurt. Was she having a heart attack? No, the seatbelt had cut through the thin fabric of her interview blouse. A red swatch burned across her breastbone.

  This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

  The other driver, an older man who looked frighteningly like Everett, had a mouth worse than a sailor. Lex remembered her dad’s admonitions to always keep her trap shut, especially if it just might be entirely, horrifically, and irrefutably her fault. She traded insurance information.

  The car didn’t look that bad. Her bumper was only hanging off a little — nothing duct tape wouldn’t fix, right? And while the frame had dented inward and scraped against her right front tire, couldn’t a mechanic just pound it back into shape?

  Lucky for her, the accident happened only a few feet from the entrance to a strip mall parking lot. She had more than enough strength to push her tiny car the few feet into a stall.

  Except her interview started thirty minutes ago and she smelled like rubber tires.

  Lex jogged — well, teetered as fast as she could in pumps — to the SPZ building a block down. She burst through the glass doors into cool air conditioning and collapsed at the receptionist’s desk. “Lex Sakai, and I’m late for my interview.”

  Instead of a receptionist, a security guard sat at the desk and gave her a bored look. He punched in a few keys, a mini-printer buzzed out with her information on a card, and he handed her the ID tag. “Go down the hall, turn left, and wait in Conference Room C12.”

  Lex clipped down the hallway, peeking briefly into a few open doors. A couple large empty offices, a couple conference rooms. She curbed left around the corner.

  “Hey!”

  Something warm — no, make that something hot splashed on her blouse. Lex bent over too late — some of it trickled down her shirt into her underwear.