I Only Have Eyes For You Read online

  Savannah rolled her head to the side so she could face him. A soft smile inched across her beautiful face and reached her eyes that now looked very droopy, like sleep wasn’t far away.

  “I promised we could catch up on the music. And I think I even recognize this one,” he stated.

  “This one’s my favorite.” Her voice was gentle. “It’s I Only Have Eyes for You, by the Flamingoes.”

  “Yeah, them.” He didn’t have a clue as to who they were, but for that smile he would say he did. He started to hum the tune, eliciting a brighter look from her.

  “You sing?” She smiled, looking a little more awake.

  Him? Sing? Yeah, that would be funny. She would certainly laugh at him if he ever tried something like that.

  He remembered how her laugh sounded, how it pleasantly rippled through the air, and made him feel light and hopeful inside. She’d laughed a lot tonight. And since they might not really get to do something like this again, he thought, hey why not? So he hummed completely off key and tried to catch up with the song. When she threw her head back and laughed, it encouraged him to continue.

  “Shoo ba, shoo ba.” He caught onto that part. “Something about something, and something else.” He couldn’t even be creative enough to make up his own words.

  He sounded like a cross between a cat meowing and a screeching macaw. But it was fine because she was laughing so much her eyes welled up with tears.

  “Ye-ah-wooo weeee. And I only have eyes for you hooooo woooo.” He thought the car windows would smash at that pitch. Maybe if it was any other car it would have, as this was solid and built to take a beating. He did hear some sort of vibration though, that had to have come from him.

  He hummed on the second verse and caught onto the end. “And shoo ba, sho bahaaa.” That part sounded exactly like a herd of sheep, so points to him for that. He phased out with the song and even snapped his fingers at the end, giving her a hopeful smile.

  She was laughing so much she couldn’t talk.

  “So, no I don’t sing. And this stays in the car. If you tell anyone, especially Jake, I’ll deny it.”

  She laughed even more, wiping tears away from her eyes. “Hiroshi, you’re so funny.”

  He liked that she thought so. He’d prefer her thinking he was funny over her thinking he was some kind of playboy. Which technically he used to be. But that wasn’t him anymore.

  “Am I forgiven?”

  “For what? I had a great night, and you saved me from a drug dealer. I nearly drank that drink, too. And did the hoki poki.”

  He smiled. It was fine, she didn’t need to learn the correct word, and to everyone else whipped cream was just that. “Never take drinks from people you don’t know. Anyway, I meant that other thing.”

  “Oh, Miss Devil Red Hair.” Her brows raised slightly.

  He had to agree that Mizuki’s hair was a little too sharp. The red was a tad too bright for a hair color.

  “Yeah, Miss Devil Red Hair.”

  She rested back on the seat again, allowing her head to sink into the head rest as she looked at him. “Yes, you’re forgiven. But it’s none of my business.” She stifled a yawn. “If that’s how you greet your friends then I guess that’s what you do.”

  “I don’t, seriously.”

  She didn’t believe him.

  “It’s cool.” She covered her mouth and yawned. “Thank you for tonight. I enjoyed myself.” She reached out and tapped his free hand that he’d placed on his knee. He looked down at her tiny hands against his and had the urge to hold her hand again.

  When her hand stilled against his, he looked back up to her face and saw that she was asleep. Slowly her hand slipped away from him and settled between the gear stick and her seat. To make her more comfortable, he placed her hand on her knee and watched her, taking advantage of the moment to get a good look.

  On the edge of her lip, he’d noticed for the first time that she had a tiny beauty spot. You could definitely miss it if you weren’t looking properly. He scanned over her thick lashes that were amplified with her makeup. Now that her eyes were closed you could see more of the work she’d put in and the soft blend of smoky colors against her beautiful dark skin.

  Everything about her was beautiful, and he marveled at how much more innocent and angelic she looked when she was sleeping.

  He shouldn’t do this to himself.

  Hiroshi turned his focus back to the road, nearly forgetting that he was driving.

  When he had the idea to take her to the tracks he’d thought what’s the worst that could happen? She’d asked him about car racing, his area of specialty, and he was just doing what anybody else would have done. Taking her out for some fieldwork experience. But maybe he should have just sat down with her for an hour or so and did a bog-standard interview. Because now that they’d spent time together he liked her even more than he already did, and there was even more to like about her.

  He liked that she treated him ordinary, like he was an average, regular guy. He got the impression that she didn’t care about his riches at all.

  No one had ever treated him like he was ordinary, not even his friends. They might joke around and tease him like he was one of them, but somewhere along the line they’d bring up some comment about his family’s wealth.

  Other than looking shocked when he’d first introduced himself to her family in San Francisco, she hadn’t mentioned it once. Every woman he’d been with had only been interested in him for his wealth; it ticked the box for them, and he’d been so absorbed in living on the edge that it never actually bothered him.

  Why try to find someone who was interested in the real you when women threw themselves at you on a daily basis? That’s probably what he would have reasoned back then if the thought ever drifted through his mind, and only God knows where he would have ended up after a big race like tonight. Partying somewhere with as many girls as he could handle till either the sun came up or he passed out, whichever came first.

  For a start, it would not have been Hizu Kwatzju who would have won all those races. It would have been Hiroshi. And he wouldn’t have lost control the way Hizu had, either. The guy was a good driver, but if Hiroshi had been out there everyone would have quickly seen who the better driver was.

  It didn’t matter. All that was in the past. Seeing Kowalski reminded him fully of that. His stupid grin reminded Hiroshi of that day when everything changed for him. The day his grandfather died.

  At the time, the family had decided to stay in Japan because his grandfather could no longer travel. He was nearly ninety-two, extremely frail and had multiple problems. Everyone took his condition very seriously, realizing his grandfather was living his last days. Hiroshi hadn’t at all. He’d taken being in Japan as an excuse to race till his heart was content.

  After all, his grandfather had been sick for years, and always pulled through. They’d even climbed Mt. Fuji together. What truly sick person did that? Everyone would always get into a stress thinking that he wouldn’t live to see another year, but year after year he did. And he was always fine.

  So, Hiroshi busied himself with more pressing matters. Like the idiot, half-baked brain Kowalski who had blown in from the States and had somehow managed to beat him.

  Him, Hiroshi, who was unbeatable at that point. He became obsessed with reclaiming his title and respect, and people bet like crazy, fueling his desire and greed. Work was nonexistent to him at the time. Good old Jake would take care of that. He always did. Being the fastest, and definitely beating Kowalski’s ass, was the prime thing on Hiroshi’s agenda.

  “You’re racing again, aren’t you?” his grandfather would ask when Hiroshi would eventually get around to seeing him, either at the house or the hospital.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Hiroshi would reply, that was always his reply. His grandfather hated him racing. He loathed it and always said that it was a careless way to live that disrespected his loved ones, as anything could happen to him. Then he’d follow th
e argument with some Japanese tale.

  “Deru kui wa utareru,” he’d often say. Which translated to “the stake that sticks up gets hammered down”, and meant if you stand out you will be subject to criticism. It was like crazy talk to Hiroshi, but his grandfather couldn’t have been more right. He’d say other things, too, with regards to Hiroshi’s lack of interest in the company.

  On the day he died, Hiroshi had set out early to Ebisu. It was during the daytime on a Thursday, but the crowd was out in full force. Like it had been tonight. He’d hired out the venue specifically for the race and it was one no one wanted to miss.

  His grandfather had been at the worst anyone had ever seen him. But not even that could stop Hiroshi, he had one goal. He had to take down Kowalski once and for all. Just before the race started he’d gotten a few calls from Sakiko that he let ring out to voicemail. When the phone wouldn’t stop ringing, he handed it over to Sadu. Whatever it was could wait, and he didn’t want anything throwing his focus.

  Hiroshi could remember the adrenaline that pumped through him, even now. He hated Kowalski, but had to give the guy credit for being the only person to ever make him work hard and give him a real challenge. When the race started the crowd went crazy. Hiroshi would never forget that sound. That and the sound of the solid engine in the Mustang. His racing car.

  It was like he was having an out of body experience. He remembered his sharpened focus, and never even bothered with any of his usual fancy skills to show himself off. Like switching the car around to drive backwards and drifting that way. No one else had dared do that. Or, if they tried, they wouldn’t do it in a race. He just focused on driving, and going fast.

  At the end he and Kowalski were neck and neck. He remembered glancing over and seeing Kowalski’s veins standing out on his forehead, sweat dripping from his face. In that moment Hiroshi knew he had him right where he wanted. Kowalski looked scared, and it was fear that would make him lose. Hiroshi took full advantage and didn’t joke to show him who was better as he sailed past, and across the finish line.

  His adoring fans greeted him and, of course, had to celebrate. It was night when he decided to retrieve his phone from Sadu. There were at least twenty voice messages and a hundred missed calls from various people.

  The first message was from Sakiko, who was crying so much she couldn’t speak. Her next few told him their grandfather had been taken to hospital and that Hiroshi should come to visit. Her last one was that their grandfather was asking for him and wanted to see him. It was important.

  When he heard that, he still had no cause for alarm. His grandfather always wanted to see him, and it was always important.

  It was the last message in the chain that sent a shiver down his spine. It was from his father. His father, who would never call him unless it was for something serious.

  He’d said, “Hiroshi, if you want to see your grandfather alive again you have to come now. He is asking for you. The whole family is here, and things aren’t looking good. Please, just come. We need you. I…need you.” His father had never told him that he needed him before, and the fragile tone of his voice grabbed Hiroshi’s attention.

  But the message had come through at three pm.

  Hiroshi remembered the dark feeling that washed over him as he looked at the phone to see that it was bordering eight o’clock. He remembered rushing away from the bar where he and his friends had gathered, jumping into the car and driving as fast as he could to the hospital. All the while thinking everything would be okay, because it always was.

  Usually when his grandfather got taken into hospital there would be a nurse outside his room. She’d make sure all visitors used that antibacterial stuff before they went in, but she wasn’t there. There would also be a folder with notes on the rack outside the room so anyone medical would have quick access to it. That wasn’t there, either.

  Hiroshi went into the room to find his father sitting in one of the chairs, sobbing. He recalled being so fixated on him that he didn’t notice straightaway that his grandfather’s bed was empty.

  He’d never seen his father display any emotion other than sternness. No smile, no laughter, no sadness, no pain. Nothing really until that night.

  It was a combination of watching his father and realizing that his grandfather’s bed was empty that sent a feeling of dread to the pit of Hiroshi’s stomach.

  “Dad.” He remembered the scene as if it was happening before him.

  The sound of his voice startled his father, and he jumped out of the chair, eyes blazing and nostrils flared. Just from the haggard sight of him, you could tell that something bad had happened. But Hiroshi still refused to believe it.

  “Where’s Grandpa?” The words had barely escaped his mouth before his father landed a solid fist straight in the center of his face. The impact was so strong he staggered back into the wall.

  If someone else had hit him like that Hiroshi would have gone for them and beat the crap out of them. But he would never do that to his father. Their relationship wasn’t the best, but he still respected him.

  Emotion gripped his father as he said in haggard tone, “He is dead.”

  The words sounded far away and so distant, even now as he thought about it, as if he’d heard it from miles away and couldn’t be certain of what was said. Then came that feeling Hiroshi would never forget for as long as he lived. Like the walls of his chest were caving in and all the air had left him. Black spots flashed before him, speckling the vision of his distraught father.

  How could the man he admired so much be dead? The man who had taken such great care of him and had taken him on one adventure after another.

  “He wanted to give you this,” his father said, throwing down a piece of paper at his feet. He made a step towards the door but stopped. With fresh tears streaming from his red eyes, he glared at Hiroshi and said, “You have disappointed me a lot over the years. But today, was the worst. You never truly hurt me until today. I’m so ashamed of you. I hope that whatever you chose to do today was worth it, and so much more important than being here.”

  The words that would stay with him forever.

  Ahead of him a lorry beamed its bright lights and turned off the road. The motion brought Hiroshi out of the memory and back to reality. Back to the present.

  Every time he remembered that day it left a hole in him and did something to him he couldn’t describe.

  Being told you were a disappointment and knowing it was true usually did that to you. After that Hiroshi stopped racing altogether. Collecting cars and doing them up was different. That was more of a hobby, an interest.

  Racing took over his mind and made him someone else. It made him obsessed and addicted to the adrenaline and dangers associated with it. It made him that guy who didn’t care about anything besides himself, who would put everything aside, no matter what, to be the fastest and the best.

  Even more than that, it reminded him that he chose to do it rather than see his grandfather one last time. His grandfather was very old, and Hiroshi saw how sick he was towards the end. Even if he had managed to pull through many times and overcome his illness, Hiroshi should have been there when it mattered. Like the rest of the family. It was selfishness that fueled him that day, and made him that guy who thought it was more important to beat Kowalski than hear his grandfather give the last piece of wisdom he wanted to bestow on him.

  On that piece of paper his grandfather had written a message to him. It said:

  Do what makes you happy, but make sure it’s something worthwhile to bring you happiness forever.

  Like the pond and the moon.

  That was it.

  His grandfather always referred to himself and Hiroshi’s grandmother as the moon and the pond. He’d always talk about her when he was happy.

  Hiroshi had never actually known what significance it was for him, but his grandfather must have had a good reason to write it.

  The message was more than Hiroshi deserved.

  He never
told anyone that story. To his friends, the whole thing was weird because it was like Hiroshi just changed overnight. It took longer for his family to see he’d changed. His mother and Sakiko picked up on it when he decided to keep the company, but the others took longer. Some, like his father, still thought he was the same old guy and were waiting for him to mess up. Hence the reason why he had so many obstacles with the training center.

  Running the company under such scrutiny, and under the miserable conditions he was placed, didn’t exactly make him happy, but he knew it would make his grandfather happy and that would in turn make him happy.

  And while he knew it was probably farfetched, he longed for the day when his father would look at him without that coldness and disappointment in his eyes, but it would take time. Hiroshi knew he had a whole lot of years to make up for.

  He looked across at Savannah, at her still form, watching the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Her silky hair fell across her, shimmering against the light, and her smooth skin enticed him to touch her, just to see if it was really as soft as it looked.

  Hiroshi wished he could get to know her more. There was definitely something about her that truly captivated him in a way that no one had, but maybe right now that was dangerous for him. He lost his focus very easily when he was around her.

  Deep down he really believed that if the training center was successful it would mend some of the hurt he’d caused, and it would be good for the company. So he had to focus on that.

  Better to address from now that she was a distraction he couldn’t afford to have.

  Chapter 10

  Savannah walked beside Jake, keeping in step with him as they walked across the pure white sand of Maehama Beach.

  It was a beautiful day, the kind that was bright and vibrant, with the perfect weather. The salty breeze filled her lungs as she inhaled it and looked about their striking surroundings with great appreciation.