Dessert

"What?" The teacup hits the wall, shattering into pieces.

"Please calm down, ma'am, it is not good for your health." The maid tries to appease her, but Hana's whole body is shaking.

'What a creative way of going on a date without anyone suspecting anything. An auction?' Hana's nails dig into her palms. 'And to hear it from that snake. She enjoyed every moment of it.'

Hitomi, one of the three housewives who are a thorn in Hana's side, informed her. She was present at the gala and reported every detail to her. Of course, she exaggerated some information since she loves to create unnecessary drama.

"The way he was looking at her is very dangerous, Hana, you cannot afford to be a bystander this time," Hitomi told her with a sneer when she called her earlier.

'This time?' She recalls her words. "That bitch is probably the one spreading the rumors about Kei's mistresses."

Hana was already planning on meeting Kei's grandfather to ask for his help, but he has been busy for the past couple of weeks. She has to take action right away though, she can't wait until she sees him.

'This is urgent.'

It only takes her a few seconds to draw an elaborate plan in her head.

"Get me my phone," she orders the maid.

She scrolls down her contact list and pushes the call button.

"Mrs Ichihara," the voice on the other side whispers.

"Do you think that I gave you a position in the secretarial office for the color of your eyes?" Hana spits with disdain. The man is silent. "If you can't report on my husband's movements, I can easily find someone else who would be of better help."

"Ma'am, I am sorry but I don't know what you are referring to."

"And that's precisely the problem." Hana sighs. "Listen to me very carefully, Shiro, Kei has a lunch appointment today, I need you to find out when and where it is happening."

"Yes, ma'am," Shiro says while bowing, even though Hana couldn't see him.

"Don't disappoint me," she utters before hanging up.

About thirty minutes later, Shiro calls her back with the information she had requested. Hana does not even thank him. She hangs up immediately and dials another number.

"Hello, Mr Shimano… Yes, it has been a long time…" Hana chuckles. "Well, I need your help with something… Of course."

'You won't know what hit you, my dear husband.'

***

Sam arrives at the restaurant a few minutes before 1:00. She thanks the driver and heads inside.

When Jessica sent her the address the day before, she searched the place. A Michelin Star restaurant in one of Kei's five-star hotels. She wonders how many hotels he owns.

As soon as she walks in, an employee approaches her while wearing a friendly smile.

"Welcome, Ms Martin," the young woman greets.

'How the hell did she know who I was? This place is on a totally different level.'

"Please, follow me."

Sam follows the cheerful woman. They walk through the lobby, then a few hallways with glass on one side, and huge canvases on the other. She follows her guide through the entrance of the restaurant and then to a private room.

"Mr Ichihara will be here shortly."

"Thank you."

The woman closes the French doors behind her. Sam takes a few steps as she studies the room, it is beautiful. The decor is inspired by Victorian design with a table for two sitting by the glass wall. The view outside is exquisite. A traditional Japanese garden with a large pond in the middle.

Sam can't see, but she imagines the water filled with colorful koi swimming around. She pictures the scene painted on a canvas-she hasn't been able to do that in a long time. But before she can process her thoughts, the doors open.

"Sorry, did you wait long?" Kei enters. He seems a bit flustered.

"Just a couple of minutes, no big deal," Sam answers calmly. She had promised herself not to be swayed by Kei today. She is determined to have a civil lunch with an old friend before going their separate ways.

"Please, have a seat." Kei pulls the chair for her.

"Thank you," she mumbles with a blush before sitting down. No one has ever pulled the chair for her, not even her soon-to-be ex-husband. "This is a beautiful restaurant." Sam tries to stop the thought.

"Thank you, we opened the hotel five years ago. It is one of the dearest projects to my heart." Kei flashes a mesmerizing smile while seeming lost in his thoughts for a moment.

Sam finds herself gazing at him absentmindedly before she catches herself. 'What the fuck, Samantha. Get a grip.'

"I'm glad you like it." His eyes travel back to her face while still smiling. "The chef has prepared a great meal for us today, I hope you will enjoy it."

"I am sure I will."

The chef personally comes to their private room every time a course is served. He explains the dishes and even throws in some information about its history, or some special ingredient he used.

The food is delightful, every bite melts in Sam's mouth. 'I knew it, a Michelin Star restaurant is on a whole different level.' Wine is also served, but she stays away from it as it is not compatible with the meds she takes.

Kei smiles as he watches Sam's expression change with every taste. "Your generous contribution will allow five students to pay for a year's tuition," he says. "I am really grateful."

Sam blushes at the comment–because of his words, but also because she did not even plan on donating. In fact, she only blurted out the first amount that came to her mind because of her irritation at the auction. She will take that secret to the grave though.

"I am glad I could be of help."

They both keep the conversation light throughout the meal. Kei was worried that the whole situation would be awkward, but it is comfortable and calm.

The chef interrupts them one last time as he brings dessert. A few plates are placed in the middle of the table with a variety of cakes and sweets. Sam inhales the sugary aroma and a smile tugs on her lips. She has always had a sweet tooth.

The chef gives his explanation, but all Sam wants to do is to dig in.

"... this one was a special request from Mr Ichihara." The chef's words catch Sam's attention. Then, she looks at Kei who wears a sheepish smile. "It is my recreation of pineapple bread." Her eyes widen. "I used the original recipe with a twist. I hope you like it."

The chef leaves and the room falls into silence. Neither one of them moves to pour the tea nor to eat the dessert. Sam's eyes are fixed on the black plate with the pineapple bread dessert. Her mind is racing and she can't catch up to her thoughts.

"Don't think too much of it, Samantha." Kei's voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it is loud enough in contrast with the silent room.

"What the hell are you trying to do here, Kei?" Sam hisses.