Kenzo stared at the resignation letter in his hand, the words blurring as his mind raced furiously. Transfer to Nakamura Corp? His biggest rival, the company he'd been battling for the exclusive patent that could make Hayashi Tech untouchable. Sharon, rock of his professional life, his secret weapon, was jumping ship? And she'd dangled this betrayal as her price?
His first instinct was to storm after her, to demand answers and an immediate explanation. But the CEO in him kicked in whispering: strategize, don't react. She wanted leverage? Fine. He'd counter with the weekend deal, then unravel this. By tomorrow morning, he'd have her family dossier and a fully formed plan to keep her at Hayashi Tech. There was no way he was losing her.
He crumpled the letter into his desk drawer, grabbed his coat, and headed out for the private elevator. "Cancel my evening," he barked into his phone as the elevator descended. Tonight, he'd review Nakamura's latest moves. And tomorrow? Sharon would explain, over fake smiles at the family dinner.
The next morning, Kenzo arrived at the office at 8 a.m., armed with a leather-bound folder thicker than any novel he'd read since college. He'd pulled an all-nighter, family trees dating back to his great-grandfather's samurai days, every cousin's stock portfolios, even dirt on Uncle Hiroshi's third mistress. If Sharon wanted intel, she'd get absolute overkill.
She was already at her desk when he strode in, looking infuriatingly composed in a crisp white blouse and navy slacks. No sign that she had dropped a professional bombshell the night before. "Eight a.m. sharp," he said, dropping the folder onto her desk with a thud. "Everything you asked for. Now talk. What's Nakamura got that I don't?"
Sharon calmly flipped it open, scanning the pages with clinical efficiency. "Impressive. Grandmother's net worth alone could buy a small country." She closed the file, meeting his eyes coolly. "As for the letter? That is simply insurance. You CEOs love your NDAs and golden handcuffs. I want options if this fake date turns messy."
"Options?" Kenzo leaned forward, his hands braced on her desk, voice dropping low. "You're not going anywhere. Weekend first, then and only then, we negotiate your price. Deal?"
She held his gaze, a flicker of amusement breaking her poker face. "Deal, Mr. Hayashi. Pick me up at 5 p.m. And please wear something less... boardroom."
By 5 p.m., Kenzo pulled up to Sharon's modest apartment building in his sleek black Audi, He was dressed down in dark jeans and a fitted navy sweater, lacking his usual tie and watch, casual Kenzo. She emerged looking like a revelation: a simple red sundress that hugged her curves, hair loose in waves, minimal makeup that somehow highlighted her already sharp cheekbones. Professional Sharon was nowhere in sight.
"You certainly clean up nice," he said, opening the passenger door for her. "I almost forgot that you're human."
"Flattery won't get you out of explaining Uncle Hiroshi's love triangle," she shot back, sliding into the seat with an easy smirk. "Drive. And remember: I'm your loving girlfriend, not your assistant."
The two-hour drive to the Hayashi family estate in the countryside was a masterclass in banter. Sharon quizzed him on pet names "Babe? Too cheesy. Try darling", detailed the necessary hand holding etiquette "Don't squeeze like you're closing a merger", and emergency exits "If Aunt Miko asks about kids, blame my career focus". Kenzo found himself laughing more than he had in months, the tension from the letter fading with every mile.
"You know," he said, glancing at her as the sun dipped low, "this might actually work."
Sharon's fingers brushed his arm, practiced gesture for the upcoming reunion. "Don't jinx it, CEO."
The Hayashi estate loomed like a feudal castle reborn, sprawling gardens, serene koi ponds, a main hall lit with lanterns. Cars lined the drive, relatives from Tokyo to Kyoto, all buzzing with gossip. Kenzo's grandmother, Mayumi Hayashi, stood waiting at the entrance in a silk kimono, her eagle eyes immediately zeroing in on them.
"Kenzo! You are finally here with a girl!" She pulled him into a tight hug, then turned to Sharon. "And so elegant! Come, come, dinner awaits!"
Inside, the long banquet table groaned under enormous platters of sashimi, tempura, and steaming sukiyaki. Thirty relatives chattered in Japanese, forks clinking against porcelain. Kenzo guided Sharon to seats near his grandmother, his hand lingering on her lower back, a touch that sent an unexpected jolt of warmth through him.
"Everyone," Kenzo announced, standing with practiced ease charm, "this is Sharon, my... girlfriend of three months." Murmurs of excitement rippled through the table, Finally! She's lovely! Sharon squeezed his hand under the table, her radiant smile completely convincing.
Grandmother beamed. "Sharon chan, tell us! How did my stubborn grandson manage to win you over?"
Sharon leaned into Kenzo, her shoulder brushing his in an intimate gesture. "He didn't win me, he earned it. Late nights at the office, bringing me coffee when I forgot to eat. One day, he looked at me like I was the only deal worth closing." She batted her lashes, and Kenzo nearly choked on his sake. Damn, she's good.
The table erupted in coos. Uncle Hiroshi slapped Kenzo's back roaring with laughter. "That's my nephew! Now, pass the wine, let's toast the happy couple!"
Aunt Miko poured generously, plum wine, sweet and potent. Kenzo, eager trying to impress, raised his glass a bit too enthusiastically. "To family.."
Splash!
Red liquid cascaded across the white tablecloth, soaking straight onto Sharon's lap. She gasped, the stain blooming like a rose on her dress. The table fell silent, then exploded in chaos, napkins flying, Mayumi clucking with concern, cousins giggling.
"Oh no!" Kenzo bolted up, grabbing a napkin. "Sharon, I'm so.."
Before he could blot, Sharon suddenly burst out laughing, a full, unguarded sound that cut through the noise. "Kenzo! You klutz!" She snatched the napkin from his hand, dabbing playfully at his sweater, now speckled too. "Look at us, matching war paint!"
The relatives collectively roared with laughter. Grandmother Mayumi wiped tears. "See? True love survives spills! They are perfect together!"
Kenzo knelt beside her chair, helping wipe the dress, his face inches from her thigh. Up close, her skin smelled like jasmine, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. "My hero," she whispered, her foot nudging his under the table. Was that teasing? Or...?
He froze, heart hammering. Just acting. But as their fingers brushed while cleaning the spill, a real spark ignited between them, warm, electric, nothing like the cool efficiency of their office life. Sharon's laugh softened, her gaze holding his a beat too long. For the first time, Kenzo wondered; What if this fake date wasn't fake at all?
They spent the next hour as the table's entertainment: Sharon charming Grandmother with tales of "Kenzo's secret ramen runs," him playfully retaliating with her "dance moves at the company party" (total lie but everyone loved it). By the time dessert arrived, perfectly chilled matcha mochi the spill was family legend. "The Wine Warriors!" Uncle Hiroshi dubbed them.
As plates cleared, Sharon politely excused herself to "freshen up," slipping toward the dark glass of garden terrace. Kenzo followed a minute later, needing fresh air. He found her by a lantern-lit pond, dress still faintly stained, staring at the koi.
"Truce?" he asked softly, leaning on the railing beside her.
She turned, closer than necessary. "Only if you admit you're a terrible fake boyfriend." Her voice was light, but her eyes dark searching, betrayed something deeper.
"Guilty." He stepped nearer, the air thick with the sweet scent of night jasmine. "But... thanks, tonight was fun. Real fun."
Sharon tilted her head, a strand of hair falling across her cheek. Kenzo's hand twitched with the urge to reach out and tuck it away. "Careful, Mr. Hayashi. That sounds dangerously un-fake."
Before he could respond, Grandma's demanding voice echoed from the hall: "Kenzo! Sharon-chan! Fireworks soon!"
Sharon immediately pulled back, smirking. "Saved by the boom." But as they turned to walk back inside, her pinky hooked his, just once. The touch was subtle and electric.
Little did Kenzo know, that single touch was the first crack in their professional wall. And with her resignation burning a hole in his pocket, keeping Sharon wasn't just a deal anymore, it was quickly becoming a desperate necessity..