Prickly Romance: Single Dad AMBW (Billionaire Dads)

SAZUKI

“You only formed this board for appearance’s sake, Sazuki, but we still have a bit of sway here. I think you need to be very careful about dismissing our concerns.” Robert Cardinal’s threat is accompanied by a chorus of tight-lipped nods from the other men around the table.

I glance at each of them in turn.

They are all influential in their own right. Chosen by design—some because of their sway with official ASL organizations in the US and others with their ties to local politics.

A project as massive as The Sazuki Music Foundation could not have been accomplished alone. Especially when my responsibilities to my family in Japan and those to my daughter kept me occupied for most of the process.

Adam is the only member around the table who is not wearing a disdainful frown.

“Whether Miss Williams assaulted the reporter or not isn’t the real issue. The problem is that the foundation got dragged into it. Our response to this matter will either gain the trust of the people we’re trying to serve or it’ll drive them away,” Adam says.

“I have been working closely with the PR team to monitor the public’s response. We will put out an official apology soon.”

“An apology? That’s it?” Robert shakes his head. “According to an eyewitness, Miss Williams was seen assaulting the reporter. At minimum, that woman should be fired. The fact that she has not been arrested yet is baffling to me.”

I grit my teeth. “As Adam said, this is not about Miss Williams. Our focus should be on ensuring the foundation escapes the scandal unscathed.”

“What do you mean this isn’t about Miss Williams?” Robert’s eyebrows tighten above his stormy eyes. “You’re going to leave an emotionally unstable college student around impressionable and vulnerable children? After this ridiculous scuffle? Does that sound like a good idea to you?”

“Mr. Cardinal—”

He lifts a hand curtly. “I have been supporting you one hundred percent in your endeavor, Sazuki. I might not have put a dime into the foundation, but it was through my connections and my efforts that you were able to network successfully.” He lurches to his feet and closes the button of his suit jacket. “Just as I paved the way for you, I can block you out. Resolve this quickly. That is all I have to say.”

Robert stomps to the exits. The other board members follow suit, avoiding my eyes and keeping their heads down.

A heavy, crushing silence descends when they are gone.

I sink into the chair at the head of the table and pinch the bridge of my nose. The sound of a chair skittering back prompts me to look up.

Adam rises slowly. “You look awful. Did you get any sleep yesterday?”

I shake my head. I asked Akira to watch over Niko and could only squeeze in a quick phone call before she went to school this morning.

My heart still aches. It was my first time since moving to America that I did not see my child off to school.

“What did Dejonae say?” Adam asks.

“I have not spoken to her.”

His eyebrows jump. “You’ve gone to all these lengths to protect her and you haven’t even taken the time to hear what she has to say?”

“Later.” I push wearily against the table and clamor to my feet.

“Sazuki,” empathy rings in Adam’s voice, “I understand that you’re trying your hardest to protect both Dejonae and the foundation, but you might not be able to do both.”

I stare calmly at him.

“It’s going to be a fight, and you know it. Don’t think the board is going to roll over and play dead. They can’t stop you from the inside, but they can bring enough pressure from the outside to keep the foundation from succeeding.”

I absorb his assessment. “I know.”

“You will have to choose,” Adam says gravely.

I clamp my lips together.

His eyes are assessing. “You’ve spent years building this foundation and you’re so close to the finish line. Now isn’t the time to lose focus.”

“What do you suggest then?”

He glances away. “Do what you have to do to save your legacy.”

“Adam.”

“She’s young. She can bounce back.”

I walk determinedly over to him. “If I cannot protect both her and the foundation, then I do not deserve to have either of them.”

He does not look surprised. “I knew you’d say that.”

“If it were Nova,” I arch a brow, “you would say the same.”

“That’s different.”

“I do not see how.”

“Nova would never put the business in jeopardy. She wouldn’t put me in a position that I would have to choose.”

“Then how are you so sure that you would choose her?” I ask pointedly.

He tilts his head, opens his mouth and then closes it. Perhaps admitting the reasons might unlock the feelings he has kept so well hidden.

A glance at my watch makes me wince.

“I have a meeting at the foundation.”

“I’m on your side, Sazuki,” Adam says as I leave. “Even if I think your way is risky, I’ll do what I can. I don’t want to see Dejonae suffer any more from this than she has to.”

I stop in my tracks. “I do require a favor.”

He pushes up his sleeves. “What do you need me to do? I can do anything except fight.” One corner of his lips curls up. “Not that you’d need that kind of assistance. You have your scary cousin Akira.”

“It is not a fight I need.” I turn slightly. “And it is not you I need either.”

“Huh?”

“Lend me Nova.”

His eyes bug.

“My team has never handled a scandal of this scale before. Nova has spent the latter half of her career handling your public persona. I want her to do the same for us.”

“I’ll talk to her. I don’t think she’ll have a problem.”

I dip my chin.

His chest swells on a deep sigh. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Sazuki.”

We share the same wish.

As it stands, I feel as though I am entering a dark and dangerous cave while blindfolded. But I will not let Dejonae leave the foundation under these circumstances. Somehow, I will find a way to protect everything that is precious to me.

My receptionist gives me a frightened look when I step out of the elevator and head to my office. I take note of it, but I keep walking.

When I turn the bend, I see what prompted her nervous look.

Dejonae is seated around her desk.

Skin bright. Lips pursed. Head raised.

As defiant as ever.

She skitters to her feet when I stride across the room. Her brown eyes are full of determination. “Sazuki.”

“I told you to stay home,” I growl. The sight of her makes my heart clench. I cannot afford to waver.

“I’m here to turn in my resignation.”

I freeze.

My nostrils flare.

“I have a meeting.” I stride past her and push my office door open.

I know she is going to follow me in.

Her sneakers are quiet on the carpet.

She is not wearing a fancy dress or lipstick today. Instead, she is wearing her staple of a cropped T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. Her honey-tinged curls are in a tight ponytail at the back of her head.

My eyes linger on her. I soak in the glossiness of her dark mocha-toned skin and the hint of gold that naturally lives above her cheekbones. Her stance is strong, but she is already beginning to chew on her bottom lip.

Keeping my eyes on her, I walk closer. Her lashes flutter rapidly. She keeps her feet rooted in place and yet her entire body eases back, away from me.

I step past her, shut the door and lock it.

The loud click sends a skitter of tension through the air.

Keeping my back to her, I say firmly, “Did you think of the cost before you acted?”

Her breath becomes louder. It hits the air in rapid beats.

“If you weighed every option and still decided to take the one you did yesterday, I would have a better explanation for the board members. For the people who had to stay up all night with me, monitoring the responses to that damaging post.”

I turn to face her.

Her eyes are so large they seem to take up half her face. Her lush mouth softens, falling partly open.

“On the day I announced you as manager, the instructors gathered in my office. They demanded to know why I chose you when all of them are older, more experienced and have more degrees.”

The boldness leaks out of her eyes. She no longer faces me as an opponent, but clasps her hands together and stares a hole into the ground.

I assess her trembling fingers. “I told them I would stand by my decision to put you in that place. Because of you, Niko reclaimed the joy of learning the piano. I wanted the creativity, patience, and care that you showed her to become the standard. But now, not only the instructors, but everyone is doubting my words. They suspect me of making the wrong decision. Of being swayed by your youth or your beauty or something even more untoward.”

She pulls her lips into her mouth. Her nail scrapes against her thumb.

I take three steps toward her. “But I do not care what they believe about me or the decision I made. I care about who you really are.”

My phone chirps.

It is a reminder about the meeting.

I set a timer and show her the clock. “You have eight minutes.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Before I have to leave, you need to give me a reason to trust you again, no matter what anyone else says.”

She looks up at me with her big, heartbroken brown eyes. And I steel myself against the lashing urge to wrap my arms around her.

“I came in here with a speech,” her words are low, as if they are scraping against her heart, “I have an iron-clad defense, but the more you look at me like that, the more it feels like it won’t matter.”

“You have seven minutes and twenty-eight seconds.”

“I have a question first.” She licks her lips and looks up at me hesitantly. “Are you asking as Niko’s father, as the head of the foundation or as… something else?”

“I am whatever I need to be to hear the truth from you.” I glance at my watch. “You have six minutes and forty seconds.”

She licks her lips.

“I want you to tell me as straightforwardly as possible. So even the children who attend class can understand. I don’t want fancy words and I don’t want excuses. Be honest, the way you are when you are displeased with me.”

Her thick lashes drop, hiding her eyes from view. Her throat bobs as she swallows.

“You have six minutes and twenty seconds left.”

“Can you stop that?” Her eyes dart up. A flare of frustration tightens her mouth. “I need more time to explain myself.”

“Then start by explaining what you did wrong yesterday.”

Her shoulders tense. She laces her fingers together. “I fought with a reporter.”

I gaze past the blinds and into the rest of the office. “Phyllis Wu. Head of our IT Department. Her son has a rare genetic heart condition that requires him to carry around a machine. She was scheduled to go with him to the doctor when the foundation’s website began to receive so many complaints that it crashed. She refused to leave and insisted on fixing the website because no one else could handle the matter.”

Dejonae sinks into a chair. Her face creases in distress.

“Evangeline Warren. She is five years old. She recently lost her hearing but before that, she loved music. Her mother is working two jobs to support the family after her husband left her and returned to his country. Evangeline was set to join the foundation in our second phase. Her mother cried over the phone when she asked how much the fee was and we said it was free. But yesterday, Evangeline’s mother called and said she would no longer allow her daughter to attend the foundation. She would rather Evangeline never learn music than to put her in a dangerous place.”

Dejonae digs her fingers into the arm of the chair.

“People are petitioning for the foundation to be shut down. They say it must be a front for money laundering because deaf children do not need to learn music. They are asking for the government to get involved.” I keep my expression blank.

Silence falls like a toxic rain.

I move toward her. “The day I first showed you the music room, you told me that accessibility is always an after-thought. Do you remember that?”

She nods.

“This means the accessibility we do have, we have only because it was fought for.” I press my hand against the arm of the chair and hunker over her. “Knowing that, how could you be so irresponsible?”

Her eyes shift swiftly to mine. Pride and remorse are at war inside her. It causes her bottom lip to tremble.

I straighten and keep my voice level. “Do you still think this is a small issue? That you were wronged? Misunderstood? That it should only concern you and the reporter? If you made a mistake and handed in your resignation as punishment, do you think you will be the only one to suffer the consequences?” I shake my head. “While you were writing that letter, did you think about the people who are being punished alongside you? All of the instructors’ efforts, the team that pulled an all-nighter, the children whose parents are wary of sending them here—if you run away, do you think it solves their problems?”

Her head twists around so she is facing the window.

“You have three minutes left.”

She slowly turns back to me.

I look down, clenching my jaw. “I told you before. I don’t care about what people think of me and my reasons for choosing you. I care about who you really are. Were you always someone who would run in the face of pressure?”

“Someone needs to take the flak for this.” She gives me a long look. “We both know that people aren’t going to go easy on you if I stay. And I don’t think you really want another complication right now.”

I square my shoulders. “I don’t care what you think, but I’m certain about one thing. The Sazuki Foundation is going to change the way that deaf students interact with music. I recruited you because you can help us reach that goal.”

She scrubs a finger over her dark forehead.

I reach out to touch her shoulder and pull back before I make contact. “People will find reasons to hate you, pity you and look down on you because of your age and inexperience. And others might coddle you, go easy on you and take your side because of your looks, your race or your gender. But I won’t do either of those things. The Sazuki Foundation is my legacy. Once you contribute to that legacy, it doesn’t matter if you’re a man or a woman. If you’re black or white. If you’re ugly or beautiful. We’re on the same side.”

There’s a knock on the door.

“Sazuki,” Akira’s voice seeps through, “why is this locked?” The door knob rattles. “Traffic is terrible. If you plan to get to the meeting on time, we have to leave now.”

I check my watch.

Two seconds.

One.

The alarm chimes.

“Your eight minutes are up. If you have no answer for me, you can leave the resignation letter on the desk. I will speak to your school so this does not affect your graduation project.”

I take a step toward the door.

A warm hand slips into mine, grabbing my fingers.

My heart trips over itself.

I stare ahead, frozen.

“I’m not going to lie just to please you. And I’m not going to apologize for something I feel no remorse about.”

My eyebrows hike.

Is she trying to raise my blood pressure?

“Any reason I give for fighting with the reporter won’t solve the effects that it’s having on everyone. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to let the kids down. I don’t want to be a burden to anyone, not to the admin team, not to the instructors or the parents. I want to work with you until The Sazuki Foundation touches the world—”

Akira knocks on the door again. “Sazuki, we need to leave now.”

She removes her hand.

I barely restrain the urge to take it back again. “I know you have a good reason for fighting with her. Whatever she did, it must have warranted your response.”

Dejonae gasps loudly.

I walk to the door because I really cannot miss this next appointment.

My fingers twist the lock.

I start to turn the knob.

“Sazuki.”

I stop. She has my heart by the throat. I could not move even if a hurricane tried to sweep me away.

“If you knew,” her voice is hesitant, “why were you so cold to me yesterday?”

“Because I was afraid.” I grip the door harder.

Akira knocks again. Her voice sounds heavy and urgent. “Sazuki, you’re really going to be late.”

“Afraid of what?” Dejonae whispers.

“Afraid I would be too soft on you.”

I feel her shock, but I do not turn around to witness it. Quickly opening the door, I stride to Akira. “Let’s go.”

She takes one look at my face and nods.

Hours later, I shake hands with the editor-in-chief. She smiles when I confirm the exclusive interview, her eyes lighting up with dollar signs.

I return to the car.

At first, Akira says nothing.

Eventually, she glances at me in the rear-view mirror. “Will you really try to resolve it with money?”

“There is little that it cannot solve,” I sigh wearily. My eyes are beginning to throb.

I close them. Unfortunately, the sun is too bright and it still bothers me.

“Do you believe that they will uphold their end of the agreement?”

“The money will not be paid out until I see their amendment article. At this point, we have to trust each other.”

She frowns. “What about the reporter? Did you speak to her?”

“The reporter was on medical leave.”

Akira huffs. “Medical leave? I saw the security footage of them leaving the bathroom. There was barely a scratch on her.”

“Are you taking Dejonae’s side, Akira?” My lips arch up.

Akira sputters and gasps from the front seat. “This is not about sides. I simply have no time for those who exaggerate their injuries.”

“An article will be released tomorrow.”

“That reporter has already done so much damage to the foundation with one little caption and a picture. If she decides to go against her chief and writes something damning about us in her article…”

I sink my head back. “We will cross that bridge when we get to it.”

What feels like minutes later, someone shakes my shoulders. I startle awake.

“Ryotaro,” Akira whispers.

“Did I doze off?”

“Almost immediately.” A line creases her forehead. “I’m waking you against my better judgement. You should get more sleep.”

“There is no time. Now that I have sorted things out with the magazine, the foundation has to put out a statement.”

She nods.

I climb out of the car and notice another black SUV drive past. I recognize the model as Nova’s. The engine stalls and then falls quiet. Nova climbs out and approaches us. As usual, she is dressed sharply. Her hair is in braids and her lips are stern.

She gives me her usual, no-nonsense nod. “Sazuki. Akira.”

“Nova. We appreciate your help.”

“Adam said things were desperate.”

I gesture to the elevator. “Let’s discuss in my office.”

When we arrive upstairs, I am stunned to see Dejonae sitting at her desk outside of my office.

Her eyes drift to mine.

She looks sober and withdrawn.

I hold her gaze.

Nova stops short and glances between us.

I clear my throat. “Nova, this is Dejonae Williams.”

“The one at the heart of this whole debacle, right?” Nova arches an eyebrow. “You don’t look like the type to be starting fights in bathroom stalls.”

“I didn’t start it.”

Nova purses her lips.

“I usually clean up my own messes.” Dejonae lifts her chin. “But I’m willing to follow the script if it helps the foundation.”

Nova motions her head at my office and then walks inside as if it belongs to her.

Dejonae narrows her eyes. “Who’s she?”

“Adam’s…”—I stumble over my words. Nova is more than a mere secretary, business partner or advisor—“everything.”

“Ah.” She still seems confused.

When it comes to Nova and Adam’s relationship, so am I.

Drawing near, I place my hand to the small of her back. “You stayed.”

“I don’t run away.” She blinks rapidly. “Also, I didn’t have the courage to walk past the admin team again.”

My lips twitch.

Nova takes a seat in the sofa and gestures for us to do the same. Since I am asking her for a favor, I make no comment about her pushiness and let her do what she wants.

Dejonae and I sit in the love seat. Her thigh presses into mine. The warmth of it makes my body turn hot in an instant.

“Tell me everything that happened yesterday.” Nova’s eyes narrow. “Leave nothing out. Even if it seems like a minor detail.”

“I met Beverly at the café downstairs,” Dejonae says, pinning her hands together and setting them in her lap. “At first, she appeared friendly.”

“Was there anything strange about her interview with you?”

“She kept asking about Sazuki’s private life.”

I arch an eyebrow. The editor-in-chief hadn’t said anything about that.

“When I shut that type of conversation down, Beverly seemed a lot less enthused, but I decided not to hold it against her. We went on a tour of the music rooms and the concert hall. Then she went to the bathroom.”

“And this is where the incident happened, correct?” Nova’s face is pure concentration. It feels as though I am watching a police interrogation.

“Yes. It happened in the bathroom.” Dejonae’s eyes flicker to me. “I heard Beverly on the phone. She was talking to a friend about how annoyed she was to be doing a story on the foundation. She called the kids here… a derogatory word.”

My muscles coil with tension.

“Which one?” Nova prompts.

When Dejonae tells us, my blood boils.

I clamp down my emotions before I turn to face her. “Is that when the fight started?”

“If you’re asking if I’m the one who initiated the first physical attack, I wasn’t. I marched into the room and told her off, yes. But I didn’t put my hands on her. She’s the one who screamed at me and grabbed my hair first.”

Nova drums her fingers on the arm of the chair. “The problem is we have no evidence of that.”

“Even if we did,” I add, “attacking the reporter publicly would not help the foundation.”

“What did the security cameras catch?” Nova asks.

“The only feed they have is one that points to the bathroom doors. It shows the reporter and Miss Cottingham leaving together. The reporter looked distressed and disheveled.”

The calm in my tone is not mirrored in my emotions. I understand why Dejonae did not apologize for what she did. I went after the man who almost ran my daughter over and had no apologies about it, making sure he understood the folly of his ways.

Dejonae is not the type to sit things out in the face of injustice. She might not have my resources, but she certainly has my grit.

I want to pat her shoulders, but I cannot risk looking as though I approve of her methods. Especially since they cost the foundation so much.

“If only we had a way to rattle the reporter’s cage,” Nova says. “A bargaining chip.”

Dejonae jumps in her seat. “Holy crap.”

I raise a hand to steady her but, she settles down on her own. When she takes her seat, she is sitting closer to me than before.

“I have evidence.” Taking out her phone, Dejonae plays a voice recording. “I learned from my sister to always record interviews. Especially if you’re being recorded too. I didn’t take off the recording until I got home.”

My eyes gleam. “Good work.”

She smirks, making her lips look so delectable it causes a physical pang inside me. For the hundredth time, I want to lean down and nibble on her mouth.

Almost as badly as I want Nova to wave her PR wand and fix this nightmare of a scandal.

“Dejonae, forward that recording to me. I’ll speak to the reporter and make sure she understands the ramifications of what happens if this recording gets out.” Nova pulls out her phone and taps furiously. “Sazuki, you said you’d worked out a deal with the magazine, right?”

“Yes, Beverly is to post an article refuting all the gossip and writing a glowing review about the foundation and its instructors.”

“That won’t be enough. We need to change the narrative. Bury this under positive PR.” Nova rubs her chin. Then her eyes latch onto me. “How do you feel about doing a performance?”

“I do not perform anymore,” I say sternly.

“Not for an audience. That would take too much time and we need something fast.” Nova waves the thought away. “Something low-key here at The Sazuki Foundation. We’ll use your fame to get people to click on our post and then we’ll ask the parents’ permission to share videos of the students learning music. You would be the lure. The kids would be the hook. We need people to see why the foundation’s mission is important to get them on our side again.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Dejonae says.

“If you think so, then I will do it.” I nod.

“Just because I said so?”

“You have evidence against Miss Beverly that would clear your name. If you released that recording, everyone would know that you were not the villain in the scenario.” I give her an understanding look. “But you are choosing to be quiet about it even if it is against your nature. You are making a sacrifice for the good of the foundation. If you can do so, I can do the same.”

“Are you saying you learned something from me, Mr. Sazuki?” She nudges me in the shoulder. “Be careful. You might actually start to seem human.”

“What did you think I was before? A beast?”

Her eyes crinkle. “No comment.”

There it is again.

That spark of electricity. It dances in the silence between us.

Nova slides a suspicious glance at me. “Since you’ve already handled the magazine editor, I will handle the reporter. Look forward to a glowing review in the next magazine issue. Sazuki, I will need a recording of the performances by tomorrow so I can release it along with the article. We need to move fast so this doesn’t get any more out of hand.”

I rise when she does. “Nova.”

“Yes?”

I glance down at Dejonae. “Do I have to play alone?”

She follows the line of my gaze. “No, I don’t think you have to. In fact, playing along with an instructor might show just how… close of a bond you all have here at The Sazuki Foundation.”

I start to walk her out.

“No need to see me out, Sazuki.” She gives me a curt nod. “Look forward to my update.”

“I will.” I dip my head.

She leaves, stalking down the hallway like a woman on a mission.

Dejonae purses her lips as she stares in Nova’s direction. “I like her. She’s a boss lady.”

“She, technically, works for Adam, but yes… she is quite boss-like.”

Dejonae scrunches her nose. “Be careful, Sazuki. Your age is showing.”

“You’re quite confident, aren’t you? Making jokes after causing such a stir.” I reclaim the seat beside her because I am not yet ready to leave her presence.

“I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Besides, you already rejected my resignation. I don’t need to hold my breath anymore.”

I chuckle, but it is broken up by a yawn.

She gives me an alarmed look. “You worked all night, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry, then don’t move,” I grumble.

“What?”

Without explanation, I lean down and rest my head on her shoulder. She makes an audible sound of surprise. Her shoulders are small and a little bony, but I get comfortable.

Dejonae holds herself completely still. I open my eyes to check that she’s breathing.

She is.

Satisfied, I close my eyes again.

It feels good.

My heart settles. My anxiety calms.

I needed this.

Needed to be close to her.

This scandal unraveled what was left of my resistance. I do not wish to run from the truth any longer. No matter what anyone says about our age, our cultural differences or any obstacles that may come our way, I want to be the one protecting her and finding rest in her as well.

Sleep comes for me quickly, but I fight it as best as I can. “Dejonae?”

“Hm?”

“Do the performance with me,” I mumble. My eyelids are heavy. Sleep is winning the fight.

“What? Why?”

“Because I do not want anyone else beside me,” I mutter.

I do not hear her response. My exhaustion catches up with me and I fall fast asleep.