Free Wasabi Heat by RaeLynn Blue Page B

you!”
    Zen rounded on him so fast, it took him a few seconds to register he had his hand around his brother‟s throat.
    Ichiro‟s eyes widened and he grabbed Zen‟s wrist to snatch Zen‟s hand away. “You are insane!” “No…” Zen croaked, swallowing down the rush of rage. He‟d never reacted that way before, so he
    stepped back from Ichiro. He straightened his shirt to give his hands something to do. “Gomenasai.”
    Ichiro put his hand on Zen‟s shoulder. “Accepted. I did not know the depths of your love for her. It shimmers from you like rain on your face. You are in love with her, Zen.”
    “Yes.” Zen confessed aloud what he had held inside for months. “I am.”
    Ichiro nodded and squeeze Zen‟s shoulder. “I see.” Zen grinned. Finally, so did he.
    Tonight. He‟d make his move. Tonight he‟d tell Nadia his feelings. “Carpe diem,” Zen said softly, lifting his head to Ichiro‟s concerned face.
    “It is night, not day, Zen.” Ichiro laughed as he headed back into the kitchen.

Chapter Two

    “ Virtue is not knowing but doing ”
    --Japanese Proverb

    The tangy scent caught Nadia first, just after a single step in the restaurant. Soy. Soy sauce. It hung heavily in the air, battling back the aromas of ginger and fish—raw fish. Nadia noticed with a soft smile the absence of another smell that usually accompanied fish—oil. Like the fried fish odor that saturated her grandmama‟s church on Friday nights when she was young.
    Not tonight. Only raw fish came on the menu here at Wasabi‟s Sushi. The lights were dim and the drinks were flowing at most tables around her. Nadia sighed in delight against the soft music swirling around her. The Japanese lyrics washed over her, bringing her out of her musings and memories. Funny how this place felt more like home than her apartment overlooking Lake Jeanette. She looked up to the overhead, maple polished wood beams of the restaurant‟s ceiling. Scarlet Japanese paper lanterns dotted the vertical beams. Chocolate, contemporary leather booths lined in neat rows spoke to the elegance of Wasabi Sushi Restaurant. She followed the hostess, a rail-thin, dark-haired woman dressed in the restaurant‟s uniform of ebony slacks, a crisp ivory blouse, and heels, to one of the artful booths Nadia had spied from the foyer.
    “This place is freaking sweet!” Kiki Morrison said.
    Nadia nodded, casting a sideways glance at her best friend. She brought clients here for working lunches and dinners, but today was bff day. Kiki kept glancing around at the décor. Nadia didn‟t know what Kiki thought a sushi restaurant would look like, but she certainly hadn‟t expected this—if her behavior was any indication.
    “Look, you ready to do this thing?” Nadia asked. “I promise. The food here is so good.” “Yes, I mean, I guess. Uncooked food doesn‟t equal good taste.”
    Nadia slid into the booth‟s cool, smooth leather seat. “I come here almost every day. You don‟t get fresher sushi then here.”
    Across the glossy table, Kiki shrugged. “Being that this is my first time. How would I know?” Nadia laughed. “Touché.”
    “You come here every day?”
    How could she put it in terms Kiki would understand? Nadia came here to relax. It had become like a second home, well, a first home. If they had a shower and a bed, Nadia may be tempted to move in. She smiled at that.
    “Something about this place takes my stress away,” Nadia said. Kiki‟s left, pierced eyebrow rose above her sparkling green eye.
    “Food that damn good? Raw fish? Yeah, see I‟m going to have to taste it to see for sure cuz that don‟t make any damn sense.”
    Nadia grinned, and then she saw him. Zen Su Chow emerged from the area behind the registers up toward the hostess stand like an emperor coming out from behind his throne. Ebony hair tied at the nap of his neck in a ponytail, the crimson button down shirt, and ebony slacks made him look like a fixture of his restaurant—a