lips parted, but she managed to contain the protest that had immediately sprung to life. She was Japanese by birth. Had been raised in Japan for much of her childhood. But the United States was the country of her heart. She had rather hoped to stay here—maybe even be part of the Taka Chicago, which was scheduled to open the following year. She had never thought she would be shuttled off to Japan.
“What does Kimi know about hotels?” Mori asked, as if she were not even present. “Other than staying in one?”
She was glad he didn’t add some caustic comment about the reasons she had supposedly been caught in some of those hotels.
Helen was ever positive, though. “She was studying business administration, Mori. Plus she’s bright, she’s capable and she’s energetic. As she said, she can learn.”
“She is a child.”
“She is twenty-one,” Kimi inserted, trying not to be too sarcastic, knowing that it would not help her cause.
Mori and Helen both looked back at her. “The development and opening of Taka Hotels has been a major undertaking,” Helen said, her soft voice serious. “I—we’ve—courted the finest people in the world to bring it about. It’s not a playground for you, darling.”
“I am not looking for a playground.”
“What are you looking for, Kimi-chan?”
Kimi eyed her father. She wanted to prove herself on her own merits. Just for once. “I want to be a credit to the Taka name.” That was also true and probably more in line with her father’s desires. “I believe I can do that better in the real world than I can in the academic one.” The only proof she had been finding in school was that she was never treated impartially.
He made a low “hmm,” clearly unconvinced.
But it was Helen who spoke. “I’ll speak with our general manager in Kyoto. See if there’s anything suitable.”
Kimi curtailed the urge to leap across the cocktail table to hug her stepmother. Kyoto or not, at least it was a chance. “Thank you. I will not disappoint you.”
But her inward grin faltered when her father pinned her with his hard gaze. “See that you do not, Kimiko. See that you do not.”
Chapter One
“There’s nothing like the smell of sawdust and paint in the morning, is there?”
Greg Sherman smiled faintly and looked past Shin Endo, his hand-picked director of security for the Taka Kyoto. “As long as the smell is gone before we open for guests.” His practiced gaze traveled over the soaring lobby space. In just a few weeks’ time, it would need to be a spotless showcase, fit for bearing the esteemed name of Taka, as it welcomed the celebrated and the wealthy into its comfort.
Right now, there was still concrete underfoot where wood floors would be inlaid among gleaming marble, the walls were bare of paint and paper, there was enough visible wiring that it looked as if rats had been at work and laborers and hotel staff were fairly crawling all over.
But beyond the chaos, Greg saw the order.
More importantly, he saw the future.
“Speaking of guests,” Shin said. “When’s the pampered heiress supposed to arrive?”
Greg absently flipped his hand down his silk tie and stepped around a pallet of shrink-wrapped banquet chairs. He caught the eye of Marco, one of his maintenance crew, and gestured at the pallet. “Get this moved down to storage.”
“Right away, Mr. Sherman.”
He didn’t wait to see that Marco followed words with action. “Next Monday,” he answered Shin. He continued walking through the mess toward the offices behind reception, Shin keeping stride. At thirty-five, the other man was three years older than Greg, and about a half-foot shorter.
As far as Greg was concerned, there wasn’t a better man in the field and fortunately, Helen Taka-Hanson hadn’t quibbled over the price that it had taken to lure Shin away from his previous employer. One thing Greg could say about his boss was that she was willing to pay for the best. She was also willing to put her own efforts into a project. Since she’d hired Greg to be the general manager of the Taka Kyoto, she’d proven to be hands-on while still managing to let Greg and his crew do the work they’d been hired to do without undue interference.
Until now.
“You think she’ll actually show up for work?”
“Kimiko Taka?” Greg shrugged. “I wouldn’t take bets on it. She’s a kid.” A wild child, from all reports, whose social activities were often regaled by the press. Greg still wasn’t pleased that Helen had stuck him with her stepdaughter. “Officially, she’ll only be Grace’s very junior sales associate.” Grace Ishida ran the sales and catering department, which had responsibility for everything from banquets to full-scale conventions and everything in between. “I doubt being a peon will appeal to the girl too much.” At which time, Kimi Taka would surely take herself right back out of his hair.
“And Boss-lady agreed to that position for her stepdaughter?”
“She suggested it,” Greg admitted. He understood Shin’s surprise, considering he’d shared it. Helen could have ordered her stepdaughter to be put into a management position—no matter how unqualified the girl would have been—and he’d have been powerless to stop her. But Helen hadn’t. She’d asked for entry level, and that was all.
So Greg would just have to tolerate Helen’s small measure of interference. Given everything on his plate, it would be only a minor nuisance until the reputably spoiled Kimiko became bored and moved on to her next escapade. It couldn’t come soon enough for him. The fewer hitches they had, the better he liked it.
Nothing was more important than proving he had what it took to helm this place.
And after this place…his own.
“Here.” He handed over a thick, stapled report. “The latest guest list for the New Year’s Eve gala.”
Shin took the report, grimacing. “When are the computers supposed to be online?”
“Last week. Lyle Donahue’s got his entire department working on it. You’ll see that we’ll need extra security for the event.” The list contained not only the expected Hanson and Taka faces, but government officials, several celebrities from a half dozen countries and a handful of crowned royals.
Shin was perusing the pages. “You got it. Where’s Bridget, anyway?” Bridget McElroy was Greg’s secretary.
“Called in sick.”
Shin’s dark eyebrows rose a little. “That’s a first.” He turned to leave the office. “I’ll get back to you on the numbers for the extra security.”
Already turning his mind to the dozen other matters needing his attention, Greg barely heard him. With Bridget out and their computer network still dysfunctional, it was proving to be a trying day.
He grabbed the folder of items he still needed copied for the staff meeting he’d be holding in another hour and left the office. He’d take the materials down to Grace’s office. She’d loan him a body who could put together the packets for him.
But he stopped short at the sight that met him.
The pallet of chairs was still sitting in the middle of the lobby floor. Almost eclipsing it, however, was a stack of luggage.
A growing stack of luggage, thanks to the diminutive female directing Marco and a half-dozen other eager helpers. “Please do be careful with that one.” The luggage owner darted forward and took a small case from a guy who, ten minutes earlier, had been on a scaffold twenty feet off the ground painting trim work. “Rather fragile, you see.” Her smile was impish.
The painter didn’t