My Father's Best Friend novel Chapter 40

Lance paced back and forth, thinking about Andrea and how she managed to use that technique of hers on the first week. He went to the bar and poured himself some port, he never was a man who consorts to alcohol, but he has nothing to do. He's on the other side of the world, and his business will be crumbling to bits if he does not stay and go through three more meetings on the next three days.

He closed his eyes as he tried to let go all the stress.

Dammit! Why didn't I bring that neon stress ball! He thought to himself as he heard a knock sounded on his hotel room's door.

"Come in," he barked, not really in the mood to be polite and respectful.

The door opened and Bianca's head popped in, "Sir, Mr. Nagasaki's here," she announced.

His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Mr. Nagasaki is the man who owns thirty percent of his company, second to his forty-nine, and the man who has been threatening his company, buying off other people's share, topping his prices.

"Should I let him in, Mr. Gallagher?" she asked.

He straightened up his dress shirt and looked at his reflection, before deciding he looked presentable and nodded to Bianca.

She disappeared for a second, before opening the door wider revealing Mr. Nagasaki and his secretary.

"Konbanwa, Nagasaki-san," he greeted as he walked over to them and held out his hand.

Mr. Nagasaki nodded and took his hand, "I want this conversation to be just between us. Tatsuya, please wait for me outside," Nagasaki said in a deeply accented voice.

"Hai," Tatsuya said hesitantly and Lance nodded for Bianca to guide him.

"Take a seat, sir," he gestured to the leather couch.

"Save the niceties for the board, call me Takinaga, and I believe I could call you Lance?" Nagasaki inquired, a touch of a smile forming on his wrinkled face.

Lance nodded, "Of course. May I offer you a drink?" he asked.

Nagasaki shook his head, "I want to live longer," he smiled.

Lance looked at the port glass he's holding and put it back to the bar, he also want to live longer.

"Lance, how old are you?" Nagasaki asked as Lance sat down on his single seater.

"Thirty-nine," Lance answered, confused.

Nagasaki nodded as if taking it in, "Any family?"

"None,"

"Wife?"

"None,"

"Lover?"

Lance caught himself before uttering an answer. He could not understand his relationship with Andrea. They kissed, yes, but that is all there is except of course, the always present explosions and butterflies that seems so cliche and sounded like a hormonal teenager's words.

"I see you are confused," Nagasaki broke into his thoughts.

Lance looked at the elder man, "As much as I don't want to admit it, yes," he admitted.

"What about now?" Lance asked.

The old man pursed his lips, "Well, I could say, you've changed. All those board meetings, you seem distracted yet when it's your turn to say something or hear something, you are completely focus. You seem in love,"

"Pardon?" Lance said, shocked.

"I said, you seem in love," Nagasaki repeated.

But "How'd you know?" Lance asked.

"Lance, people aren't really that hard to read," Nagasaki said.

"What's going to happen now?" he asked.

Nagasaki shrugged, "It's up to you but I'm tired of this crap,"

Lance knitted his brow, for a millionth time, in confusion, "Huh?"

"I mean, go back to America and tell, whoever she may be, that you love her, and you want to have many babies with her," Nagasaki said, animatedly.

"That's uhm, weird, but what about the meetings?" Lance inquired.

Nagasaki rolled his eyes, "That's the crap I was talking about. Damn the three more meetings, go home and kiss her senseless," the old man went to him and tapped his shoulder.

Lance's lips broke into a grin, "That I will."