The Daydreamer Detective Opens a Tea Shop Read online

  “What did you get me?” Opening the flaps let out a puff of dusty air. Oh! Teacups! They were adorable.

  “I saw these at an estate sale this past weekend, and I knew they’d be perfect for your tea shop.”

  I shuffled through the teacup collection, marveling at the different colors and styles of china. They were all made from a light porcelain, painted with an array of patterns. It was exactly what I wanted. The majority of the decorations and furniture I’d gathered for the tea shop were hand-me-downs or recycled items. I’d bought the up-cycled tables from a local carpenter, and two ladies from the next town over made the floor-lounging pillows from second-hand clothes. These cups would fit right in.

  “They’re lovely! How much do I owe you for them?” I closed up the box and rested it on the cart, so I could get them home later.

  “You don’t owe me anything. It’s a gift,” she replied, bowing.

  “No, I can’t. I must pay you for them,” I countered, bowing. I hated having to accept gifts from people.

  “Please. It’s our welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift. I won’t think of taking payment for them.”

  All the manners my mom had instilled in me bubbled to the surface. “Really, I must reimburse you for the teacups. I’m sure they were expensive.”

  “Nonsense. It was an estate sale, and I got them for a steal. Practically nothing. They’re worth more to you and your business than they are to anyone else. The woman who sold the cups said her mother collected them but no one in the family wanted them. They’ll be well-loved in your tea shop.”

  I felt uncomfortable about taking the gift, but I squared up my shoulders and bowed again. “I’m so grateful. Thank you very much. I look forward to serving you tea from these when you come to the shop.” The least I could do was accept them gracefully. I’d just have to find another way to pay them back.

  “I’m looking forward to it as well. We can’t wait for it to be open. It’ll be nice to spend our days closer to our son.”

  Warmth filled me from head to toe. This was a reason to be proud of my new place. Not only would it be a career for me, but it was also good for the community. I had made the right choice.

  Chapter Three

  The black car and driver we hired turned the streets of Shinjuku carefully, pausing for pedestrians at every corner as we wound our way to our destination. I researched the place ahead of time so I wouldn’t look like a total plebeian when we arrived.

  Le Vin et La Mer, “Wine and the sea,” was Morinaga’s newest restaurant venture. Yasahiro and Morinaga were school friends, and while Yasahiro fell in love with traditional Japanese cooking, Morinaga fell in love with French seafood. Tokyo was a good place for his restaurant, and according to the articles I read online about him, he was at the fish market at 4:00 every morning picking out the freshest catch. Despite being so nervous I wanted to puke, I was looking forward to the food.

  We waited in a long line of cars as cameras flashed and people got out to stand and have their photos taken. My palms were sweating, and my throat was dry. I never understood that, why my body put moisture in one spot and took it away from another. It was counter-productive enough to be annoying.

  “You look nervous,” Yasahiro said, taking my sweaty hands and squeezing them. “Don’t be nervous. Remember, this is someone else’s big day, and we’re here to help him celebrate.”

  “Right. Right.” I inhaled through my nose and blew out the breath slowly through my mouth. “No problem. I’ve got this.” I opened my purse and took out my makeup case. I was a little sweaty, but I mopped it up with a tissue, reapplied powder, and freshened up my lipstick. I could do this. Really. I would show everyone I could be graceful and charming.

  Graceful and charming. Graceful and charming. Maybe if I said it enough times in my head, it would come true.

  Our car pulled up to the drop-off spot, and the driver jumped out to open our doors.

  “Just smile and stand for a moment to let them take your photo, and then we can go in. Once we’re inside, the scene will be less hectic. There’ll be lots of people to meet but fewer cameras.” Yasahiro took my hand and helped me out of the car.

  For the time being, I felt like I could fit in. I was proud of the sparkly black dress I found for tonight. Nothing sexy and backless like the woman in front of us, but pretty all the same. It covered my back burn scars and the new ones on my upper arms, but showed a small amount of cleavage, what little I had of that. My arms and stomach actually looked great with all the manual labor I’d been doing, but that didn’t help me out in this situation. Yasahiro was handsome as usual in a sharp, charcoal gray suit and tie. We were a monochrome couple.

  The lights of the flashbulbs bounced off my dress, and everyone around me was a blur. I saw nothing but camera lenses and open mouths shouting for Yasahiro. I heard my name once or twice, but most of these reporters had no idea who I was.

  And that was fine with me. I wanted the anonymity. I craved the solace of “blending in.” I had never wanted to be famous, and I wasn’t planning on changing that.

  Yasahiro urged me forward into the restaurant, smiling at me and kissing me on the forehead. “You did great.”

  I blinked my eyes to rid my sight of the flashbulb afterimages. “I don’t know if I even smiled,” I said, breaking into a laugh.

  “You did. I’m sure the photos will come out beautiful.” He patted my hand that clutched his arm. “So, we can stick together the whole evening or —”

  “We’ll stick together the whole evening.” I scanned the room, looking for a friendly smile or two and came up empty. These were not my people. I recognized a few faces, and as I ran them through my brain, their names sprang to my lips. Celebrities, every last one of them.

  I pointed out several to Yasahiro, and he confirmed my guesses. “If I had to talk to any of these people on my own, I would probably stare and be tongue-tied. But I’m also fine with sitting at the table. So if you need to get up and talk to somebody, you can do that too.”

  I could easily sit, have a drink, and let my mind wander. I didn’t even need a phone in a place like this. My daydreams could occupy me for hours.

  “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

  I was sure when Amanda, Yasahiro’s ex-fiancée, attended these events, she did her own socializing and the two of them never needed a plan. She probably knew every person in the room. But that wouldn’t be me, at least for a very long time. For now I would stick with Yasahiro, learn some faces and names, hold brief conversations, and hope I didn’t make a fool out of myself.

  We shuffled forward with the line of people, and I turned around to see who was behind me. My vision was still blurry from all the flashbulbs, and I swerved when the crowd surged forward. My heel caught on the dress of the woman to my left as I tried to see where I was going. I stumbled, my other hand snapping out and grabbing her arm before I brought us both down.

  “Oh my!” We both cried out, and for a long second, I thought she was going to slap me. But she saw Yasahiro and my beet-red face and pulled back in surprise.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, smoothing out her dress and then mine. “That’s just like me to walk into a fancy party and immediately trip over my own two feet.”

  Her face broadened in a wide smile, but she didn’t direct it at me. She leaned into Yasahiro to kiss him on the cheek, and my mouth dropped open. A long string of French words fell from her lips like a crystal-clear waterfall in spring. Oh great. I tripped over one of Yasahiro’s friends the moment I walked in the door. I wanted to shrivel up and die.

  Disengaging my hand from Yasahiro’s arm, I took one step back, figuring he wouldn’t miss me if I left for the bathroom and never came out again. But the woman glanced at me again, her own date now talking with Yasahiro, and I knew I wouldn’t get far if I tried to run. I imagined myself leaping over the tables like an athlete at the Olympics running the hurdles. I could make it!

  But this woman drew Yasahiro’s attention to me. She kep
t saying, “Amanda,” and gesturing at me. Would this ever end?

  Yasahiro switched to English. “Giselle, I should properly introduce you to my girlfriend, Mei. Mei-chan, this is Giselle. She and her husband, Robert, own several restaurants across France.”

  “How quaint. She only knows English?”

  Yasahiro squirmed, and he tried not to roll his eyes. He half-rolled them and then stopped. “And Japanese, of course.”

  Giselle rearranged her face from a smirk to a polite grin and nodded. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, and although I got the idea she was not pleased at all, she softened into a friendly smile.

  “Yasahiro was just telling me you’re a painter, and you live in the same tiny little village he does.” Now, my English was not the best, but I was sure that “tiny little village” was meant to be a dig on Chikata. I had once lived in Tokyo, one of the biggest cities in the world, and I was lonely and lost there. But I had grown to love Chikata and all it offered in the last few months. There were days when I missed the big city, so on those days, I went to Tokyo and had my fill, then I came home. And still, Chikata was a decent size. Certainly not a tiny little village.

  “Yes, my family has lived there for generations. Our town has a rich history and culture that foreigners come to see from across the globe,” I said, finding my voice. “The same can be said of many country towns in France, am I correct?”

  Robert leaned into the conversation. “Indeed. You should see the town Giselle came from. Absolutely glorious wine and cheese.” He kissed the tips of his fingers, and Giselle scowled at him, caught being a snob.

  “Nothing beats Paris,” she admonished him. “Speaking of which, when will you be back in Paris?” she asked Yasahiro. “We missed you the last time you were in town.”

  “Mei-chan and I will be back in June.” It was a trip I was so eager for, a real chance to travel overseas. I couldn’t wait.

  “Ah, I see.” She scanned me from head to toe. “Then we will have to sit together later and get to know each other.” She tipped her head to the side and watched me as she walked away.

  My stomach shrank to the size of a pea. Yasahiro had built an entire life with Amanda, and these people weren’t ready for me. He threaded his arm around my waist and directed me to a table, picking up glasses of champagne along the way.

  “Don’t worry about Giselle. She’s insufferable.” He sat next to me, leaning close so no one else could hear him. “I only ever talk to Robert when I call them.”

  “Why is that? Not that I can’t guess.” I sipped on the champagne and the bubbles tickled my nose.

  “I don’t think you’d guess this, no.” He gulped at his champagne, and I felt a secret ready to pop loose. Maybe I was finally going to learn why he and Amanda broke up.

  “Confess,” I directed, winking at him so he knew I was being playful.

  He sighed. “The breakup was complicated, but it all started when Amanda cheated on me by sleeping with Robert.”

  “No,” I gasped. “And you’re still friends with him?”

  I glanced across the room, and Robert and Giselle were speaking quietly to each other. They looked intent, or maybe serious was a better word for their furrowed brows and frowns. I’d give anything to eavesdrop on them though I was sure they spoke French to each other in these intimate situations.

  “Yeah. I am. Somewhat. We have lots of investments together. But anyway, Amanda sleeping with him had less to do with him than it did to do with Amanda and Giselle being enemies.” He rubbed his face and straightened his hair. “It’s something I’ll never be able to leave behind, will I?”

  “I guess not. Would you rather we weren’t here? We could go, even though we just arrived.”

  “No. It’s fine. It’s better I talk about these things with you. I know I haven’t been especially forthcoming about all the details.” He squeezed my hand. “There were a ton of reasons we broke up, but the cheating was the first real sign of distress. Giselle is the type to attach herself to famous people and she and Amanda fought over it all the time. Not really my thing.”

  I was relieved I wasn’t famous, and if I read Giselle right, she was happy about that too. If I was polite and unassuming, I was sure I wouldn’t anger anyone. A flush of heat burned my cheeks as I remembered her enraged face when I stepped on her dress. If Yasahiro hadn’t been there, I probably would’ve been thrown out.

  Yasahiro turned his champagne flute on the table, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. “But it was weird the way they considered themselves best friends. They might even still talk.”

  “Really? After Amanda slept with her husband?” I placed my hand on my chest. Never, ever could I forgive that.

  “There’s an English word for it. Frenemies.”

  I laughed and someone across the table looked sideways at me. I shushed myself, and Yasahiro laughed at me.

  “Don’t worry about her or Amanda or any of this old drama.” He leaned even closer and kissed me on my cheek, his cool lips were like ice against my hot skin. “I’m excited about our trip to Kumamoto next week. I’m so glad we get to do these things together.”

  He held my hand, his fingers playing along mine. “Back in 2011, I was living in Paris, getting all of my assets ready to move to Japan. Amanda and I were still together too, though it was near the end. I remember sitting and watching the footage from the earthquake and tsunami play over and over.” His eyes softened, and I clutched his fingers in mine. “I’ve never felt so helpless. I’ve only ever felt helpless like that then and when I saw you almost die in that fire.”

  “Shhh,” I breathed out, kissing him on the cheek. “We’re both safe and sound now, right? It’ll be a good trip. We’ll help people, and we’ll spend time together. I’m looking forward to it.”

  He cleared his throat, sat back, and smoothed his hair before taking another sip of champagne. “I have a surprise for you. I wanted to save it, but I’ll tell you now since I’m sure tonight will be rough… for us both.” He smiled and waved to someone behind me. “It never ceases to amaze me how shallow some of these people can be. There are some good ones, I promise. Morinaga is a good man, or we wouldn’t even be here.”

  He focused back on me, and my knee bounced with anticipation. Just tell me! What kind of surprise?

  “Anyway, Beppu is only a few hours drive from Kumamoto, so I’ve scheduled a private” — he angled in closer — “secluded spa weekend for after. Only us, a private kitchen, and a large mineral water bath for two. After our disastrous New Year’s Eve vacation, I figured out how to make this happen for us. We deserve it.”

  My heart nearly galloped away. Our last trip to the onsen over the holiday did not go well, but this was perfect. Private and secluded was what we needed.

  “Oh wow. That sounds amazing.” I clutched my hands to my chest and beamed. “But, you didn’t have to do that.”

  He waved his hand at me. “It’s the least I can do. We’ll volunteer all week, get in some relaxation, and then return home to open Oshabe-cha. Oh! Be sure to mention the tea shop to Robert. He loves tea. Come.” He bid me to stand so I jumped up next to him. “Let’s go mingle and eat. I’m starving.”

  “Me too.” My stomach had settled while talking to him, and I was ready for food.

  We swerved around the room, eating bites of decadent seafood and caviar, sipping champagne, and making small talk with dozens of people. My posture relaxed as I grew used to answering the same questions over and over. Where are you from? Are you in the restaurant business too? How long have you been dating? With alcohol flowing through my system, the dams broke and my answers came out witty and strong, making Yasahiro laugh with delight. I just had to be careful not to be too truthful. One woman’s dress was so hideous I was shocked she made it in the door, but I smiled and complimented her on it anyway.

  I slipped into a polite silence while Yasahiro talked to the twentieth person that night who didn’t speak Japanese and directed my eyes across the room. Gise
lle and Robert huddled at a high, two-top table in the corner, ignoring everyone around them. I couldn’t hear them, but their faces said more than words would. Giselle was angry, a vein in her temple standing strong and her lips were curled in a deep frown. Robert’s face was placid, almost humorous, as she lit into him. I sipped on my champagne more as he shrugged his shoulders and clearly uttered two words of English profanity at her. People at the next table over giggled and gasped, and Giselle stormed off.

  I turned to Yasahiro to meld back into my spot, struck by how easily Giselle and Robert fought in public. That kind of thing never happened around here. Must have been a French thing.

  “Ah! I see Morinaga. We should go say hello.”

  Yasahiro laughed and squeezed me to him, leading me off into the sea of people swarming around the head chef, smiling and thanking everyone for coming.

  We all applauded him, and I was actually happy to be there.

  Chapter Four

  I leaned into the landscape, taking care to place my hand on the towel while I painted in the tiny points of the pine needles. I had learned this technique recently — minute, soft brush strokes with a wire-thin brush — after watching dozens of videos on YouTube. It was amazing what you could find online. My usual style was to use larger brushes and blur out details on the far horizon, letting the viewer use his or her imagination to fill in the empty spaces. But now, I took pleasure in the small nuances of light and dark. A birds nest here, a fallen tree there, and a leaf floating on the wind — it was a scene that came to life if you looked at it long enough. Perfect for Chiyo’s bathhouse and exactly what I wanted to do.

  I blew out a long breath and scratched my itchy nose and forehead as I pulled away from the painting. My hand was cramped, the fingers curling into a claw. Probably the only thing I disliked about painting was how much it hurt my body, but that’s what soaks at the bathhouse were made for.