In Deep Kimchi by Imari Jade Page B

the sink washing their hands.
    Dorothy dried her hands under the blow dryer. “He’s cute,” she replied.
    “Who?”
    “Ichiro.”
    “Oh, him. Well, I think the correct description is beautiful.” She pressed the button on the dryer.
    “Have you ever seen guys as handsome as those four?”
    Shaundra rubbed her hands vigorously under the air to dry them. “No, I haven’t. Where the hell were men like that when I was in my twenties?”
    “These weren’t born yet,” Dorothy said into a girlish chuckle. “He likes you.”
    “Who?” Shaundra asked as she stepped over to the mirror to check her hair and makeup.
    “Ichiro.”
    “Huh?”
    “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way he’s been watching you.”
    “No, I haven’t,” she lied. “He’s just a kid.”
    “So is Yori.”
    Ah hell, where is this conversation leading ? “I’m flattered, but I didn’t come all the way to Tokyo to get involved in some scandalous triangle with two Japanese pop stars.”
    Dorothy hugged herself and giggled with glee. “Wow, wouldn’t that make one hell of a novel premise?”
    “Probably.” She finished with her hair, and washed and dried her hands again. “We’d better get back before they think we’ve fallen in or something,” Shaundra said, changing the subject. She led the way to the door and Dorothy followed.
    “Do you think I can get one of them interested in me? You know, if you’re not in interested in dating either one.”
    “Sure. You’re a pretty nice lady, but don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t happen. They have some pretty strange customs in some of these places where they can only date their own race, or worse, they have to stay pure until they’re married.”
    “Yuck. What an antiquated, Victorian idea.” They re-entered the dining area. The waiter had arrived with the food and there were several red-clad chefs preparing meat on the hibachis. Shaundra and Dorothy scooted back into their seats as the chef set the meat on plates and passed them around to the diners. The waiters returned with steamed rice and soups. Everything looked delicious.
    “Ooh, what’s that?” Shaundra asked.
    “Yakimono,” Ichiro answered. “Grilled fish.”
    Mostly everyone stopped what they were doing when they heard him speak.
    Shaundra looked over at him and smiled.
    Ichiro shook his bangs back out of his eyes, revealing his adorable face and capturing her full attention. He began scooping some of the fish into a bowl and then he reached for Shaundra’s set of chopsticks, opened them and began feeding her.
    Shaundra chewed, never removing her stare from his. She swallowed. “Thank you. It is very delicious.”
    Ichiro handed the chopsticks to her.
    “I don’t know how to use them.”
    “Let me show you.”
    Those were the most words she’d heard him say since she met him. She pitied the world for not hearing his silky and mesmerizing voice. She bet there were a lot of wet panties in the audience when he performed.
    Ichiro demonstrated how to use the chopsticks and then reached them back to her to try.
    Shaundra lifted the chopsticks, noticing the stares she was receiving from around the table. She maneuvered the sticks between her fingers, ignoring the onlookers, picked up the meat between the two sticks and put it into her mouth without spilling.
    “See, I knew you could do it,” Ichiro replied with an impish smile.
    Shaundra smiled back at him. “I can manage big things, but what about rice?”
    Ichiro picked up his bowl to demonstrate. “The object is not to waste.” He put the bowl closer to his mouth.
    Shaundra followed his movements up to his lips, checking out their fullness as he shoveled the rice into his mouth. Ichiro lowered the bowl, licking the rice residue from his bottom lip. That little movement nearly stole her breath away. “I feel so silly. I thought I had to pick up the rice with the sticks.”
    “Ichiro is a very good teacher,” Yori said from her right. “And very