His Revenge Baby: 50 Loving States, Washington

By Theodora Taylor

When travel nurse Lilliana Tucker is coerced by a mysterious stranger into “interviewing” to become Norio Nakamura’s next mistress, she’s pretty sure there’s no way she’ll get the job. Lilli is awkward, unrefined, and not at all cut out to be a spy–or the lover of a smoking hot Japanese billionaire. But then—WTH!—she does get the job.
Soon her arrangement with Norio goes from a role she must play, to a passionate, barely contained affair. Lilli knows there’s no way her clandestine relationship with Norio will end in unicorns and rainbows. But there are two things she doesn’t see coming:
1. Falling for the man she’s been hired to betray
…and
2. What he'll do when he discovers her true identity
East and West passionately collide in this steamy standalone AMBW romance. This novel is full of J-Drama with twists and turns that will keep you swiping. Find out what happens when this sweet nurse crosses the wrong billionaire!
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theodra Taylor
• Release date: May 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781942167082

Book preview

should.

Part One

Chapter One

First time?

Lilli took a break from tapping her fingers against her bare knee, and looked over at the woman who’d just taken the seat beside her. Her heart sank when she saw that this woman, just like all the other women waiting in Mr. Nakamura’s ante lobby, was her complete opposite.

Whereas Lilli was short and a size L to XL by Japanese standards, this woman was tall and so slender, she could probably fit into a Japanese medium. And unlike Lilli, who’d had to rely on a flat-iron this morning to straighten her hair out of its usual large bush of curls, this woman had clearly found someone who was fully capable of putting in a waist-length blond weave. Her golden locks combined with light hazel eyes put Lilli in mind of a certain pop singer who regularly sold out stadiums all around the world.

She had the same color skin as Lilli…a tawny brown that hovered between light and dark. But other than that, they had nothing else in common.

Well, nothing else aside from the fact that they were both here.

Sitting in the same waiting room for the exact same reason.

And, oh yeah…they were both completely naked.

Along with at least ten other black women who were also Lilli’s complete opposites. But that was definitely where the similarities ended. Like the blond woman sitting beside her, the other naked women looked like they would easily qualify if someone ran into the room and called out, "Hey, we’re looking for extra girls to shoot a high-end porn we’re filming downstairs!

So here she was. Surrounded by yards of blond weaves, flat stomachs, and perfect C-cups.

No wonder the other women hadn’t spared Lilli, with her off-black, flat-ironed hair, dimpled tummy, and heavy breasts, so much as a second look (after the first disdainful one) when she’d walked in and taken the seat farthest from the door leading into Mr. Nakamura’s private office.

But this new girl was smiling at her as if they were old friends.

"Um, yeah. I mean, yes, it is my first time," Lilli answered, remembering the instructions she’d been given by the agency about only speaking her best English with this particular client.

Figuring now was as good a time as any to practice her cover story, she told the friendly blond, I’ve only been signed up with Osaka Charm for a month. Before that I was an ESL teacher. They’ve sent me to a few parties, but this is my first special request interview.

I could tell by your bare feet, the blond said, grinning.

And that was when Lilli noticed something else that set her apart from all other escorts waiting to be interviewed. The friendly woman who’d instructed her to strip down in the vestibule outside the lobby had suggested Lilli go barefoot rather than enter Mr. Nakamura’s office in such mundane footwear as the sandals she’d arrived in. But everyone else seemed to have gotten the heels to impress memo. A couple of them even had the kind with red soles.

I don’t even own a pair of heels, Lilli admitted.

Why would she? Before the cloaked voice on Doug’s phone had turned her life upside down, she’d been working as a school nurse at an international school in Minoh. Mostly dispensing band-aids and determining, day in and day out, whether the students who came to see her were truly sick enough to be sent home. Two weeks ago her biggest problem had been trying to figure out how to keep Doug clean during his off-season. But now…

Well, now she was sitting buck-ass naked in some Japanese billionaire’s lobby.

The blond slid her a sympathetic look. I used to only own shoes that came from Payless. But don’t worry, you have that fresh, college-girl, just-off-the-plane thing going for you. You’ll be going on shopping trips in Shinsaibashi in no time.

Shinsaibashi, Osaka’s most upscale shopping district. A place Lilli wouldn’t even know of if a few of the other gaijin girls she worked with hadn’t taken her clubbing there a couple of times.

Even then, Lilli had goggled at all the beautiful shop windows, pretty sure the H&M would be the only store in the district she could ever afford. But the woman sitting beside her wore a beautiful pair of red heels, which she’d probably bought from one of district’s more expensive stores.

Or had bought for her, Lilli thought, recalling what her handler at Osaka Charm had listed as one of the perks of being assigned to a single client.

Perks she’d probably never know about. Every woman in the lobby looked about ten times more appealing than her. Exactly what a billionaire who’d put in a special request for a black girl would want to fulfill his fantasy.

Too bad Doug’s entire future was riding on her landing this job. He is so screwed, she thought to herself, her heart constricting with guilt.

An older Japanese woman dressed in a conservative dark blue skirt suit came out into the small waiting area. Her black and grey hair was arranged in a bun so severe, it put Lilli in mind of a stern, disapproving math teacher from the Japanese school drama she and Doug’s daughter, Ruby, watched a few weeks ago. But aside from the severe hairdo, Lilli was pretty certain this woman was the billionaire’s assistant—not some mean lecturer sent in to teach Lilli and all the other naked escorts math. Fairly certain…

The assistant scanned the room’s occupants, her stern face curdling a bit when she spotted Lilli. She then switched her gaze to the much more stunning woman sitting beside Lilli.

He will see you now, the assistant told the friendly blond, beckoning her forward with a palm down waggle of her fingers.

See you when I get back, the blond told Lilli, before standing up and walking through the door on the other side of the room.

Just a couple of minutes later the blond returned, apparently done with her interview. Which gave Lilli some solace. There was no way this meeting would be comfortable for her, but at least it would be quick.

Miyuki will help you with your clothes in the lobby, the stern Japanese woman informed the pretty blond, before beckoning another girl into the office.

Lilli expected the blond to be on her way, with nothing more than a wave. But instead, she came back over to Lilli.

See you later, girl, she said with a bright smile. Then to Lilli’s surprise, she actually leaned down and gave her a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek. Like they were dear friends as opposed to two escorts who’d most likely never see each other again.

Her perfume smells like flowers and diamonds, Lilli thought to herself, doing her best not to appear too uncomfortable that she was exchanging a kiss with a lovely but virtual stranger in the nude.

Don’t worry, you got this, she whispered in Lilli’s ear.

Then she stood back up and disappeared again. This time to the outer lobby, where Miyuki would be waiting for her with the clothes they’d all been required to remove.

Yeah, right, Lilli thought, as one by one, each woman was beckoned into the office beyond. Each of them save her. She definitely, definitely didn’t have this.

In fact, even when she was the last woman left in the waiting area, rather than call her forward, the stern older woman disappeared back through the door, closing it firmly behind her. She stayed in there for longer than most of the girls who’d interviewed for the job.

And when she came back out, the look she gave Lilli was so disparaging, her disdain seemed to take on a presence of its own, like a cloying perfume.

You can go in now, the woman said, her voice flatter than flat.

Doug is so seriously, seriously, screwed, Lilli thought to herself as she stood and walked through the door.

The sun had still been high in the sky when she’d first walked into the Osaka Nakamura Worldwide building. But thanks to the picture windows lining both sides of the corner office, she could now see it sinking behind a bank of low hanging clouds on the horizon, casting the city and the Yodo River in interesting cross shades of orange and pink. Osaka had turned its lights on, its usual dull brown and white cityscape now lit up in brightly colored neon and LEDs.

The office windows had some kind of dark film on them, she noticed. Which meant she could see out, but no one could see in. Not that anyone could see in anyway. They were too high up. This was the tallest building for miles and miles, with nothing to disrupt the view but clouds. Still, if a helicopter flew by, or Spiderman decided to scale the building or anything like that, she’d be safe from prying eyes, she supposed.

Oh God, Lilli, why are you thinking about helicopters and Spiderman? Or about anyone outside this room?

This rather cold room.

Lilli shivered. It had been warm enough in the outer office, but the office was a good ten degrees cooler than the one she’d just left. On purpose? she had to wonder as her nipples pebbled and goosebumps raised on her arms.

She looked around the office, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light. For someone who’d insisted on seeing her naked, Lilli didn’t understand why Mr. Nakamura hadn’t turned on the lights in his office. In fact, the only light in this cold space was from the setting sun. Nevertheless, she could just make out the main details of the room. Ebony hardwood floors, abstract modern sculptures, a simple desk made of beautifully marbled wood, and…

Her eyes widened when she saw the man sitting behind the desk.

It’s you!

Chapter Two

It was her. It was really her.

Riyu had told him only one candidate remained in the area. One completely unsuitable candidate. So No hadn’t expected much. Just one more disappointing interview in a string of disappointing interviews. But now here she was, padding into his office on bare feet. He watched her look around, her eyes as big and brown as a Nara deer as she took in his office.

Yes, it was definitely her. The girl from the end-of-season party his father had thrown for the Nakamura Hawks.

The Hawks franchise had strict rules concerning their players. No sex for at least two days before a game, even with wives. No alcohol during the season. No excessive weight gain. No drugs of any kind, ever. And the players were carefully monitored to ensure they abided by these rules.

Therefore, the end-of-season party was, at its basest form, a reward to the players for eight months of squeaky clean living.

A bacchanal complete with alcohol, food, and all the sex the players could want, courtesy of Osaka Charm, the same upscale service that had been supplying the men of the Nakamura family with mistresses since the eighties.

He and his brother, Hayato, usually only attended those parties as a courtesy to his father, Kazuo Nakamura. Baseball was Kazuo’s favorite past time. In fact, the team had been a gift from Norio’s grandfather on his son’s second, much more auspicious, wedding day. As head of RoTeku, Nakamura Worldwide’s robotics division, No had barely paid attention to the game until this year. And as part of the marketing department, Hayato could barely be bothered with the least profitable subsidiary of their global company.

But RoTeku had recently provided the team with a new mascot: a bipedal humanoid robot that could throw underhand pitches. So at tonight’s party, both No and Hayato would stand beside his father as Kazuo announced the mascot change to the team. Baseball players in general tended to be a superstitious lot, and Japanese players even more so. No knew his father would expect his sons to field any questions or protests the drunken players might have about the unexpected removal of the team’s previous mascot—a large hawk.

As his father often said, solidarity in all things so our decisions are never considered weak.

Also, attending this party had been a good way to avoid an uncomfortable conversation with his current Osaka Charm mistress. An Australian sous chef who’d decided to stay on in Japan, even after her working holiday visa was up. A natural blond with a degree in the culinary arts and almost flawless Japanese, she was popular at the agency, and it had cost rather a lot to secure her exclusively for a full six month period. Luckily, No had rather a lot of money, and the sous chef had been worth it.

She was more than adept in bed and he’d enjoyed the meals she made for him. But unlike many of his Japanese mistresses, she didn’t seem to fully grasp their relationship’s time constraints. Six months. No more. Possibly less. This was his standard contract. What he preferred.

Unfortunately, the Australian mistress had become pushy of late. Hinting at a desire for a new arrangement between them after her six months were up. No had no wish to anger her, but he also had no wish to be with her beyond their contracted time. After all, he only had a year left before he’d be required to settle down with whatever distinguished woman from a good family his father chose for him.

He wouldn’t exactly say the Nakamura family was the product of a series of arranged marriages. In fact, his father had married a Chinese woman against his own father’s wishes. But the marriage had gone poorly. So poorly that it had ended in the Chinese wife’s suicide and his father’s estrangement from the hafu—half Chinese, half Japanese—son he’d had with her. His second wife, No and Hayato’s mother, had been chosen by No’s grandfather, a Japanese beauty who like the Nakamuras, hailed from a great samurai clan.

Kazuo Nakamura had recently informed Norio, his oldest full Japanese son, that he hadn’t any intention of letting him make the same mistakes he had. He was already reviewing a list of possible candidates, and hoped to announce No’s engagement at the end of next year’s baseball season.

So iie, with less than a year to go until his lifelong marriage sentence would begin, No didn’t want to waste his time with just one woman. No matter how wonderfully she cooked.

Do you think we can go somewhere quiet and have a little chat later? Carina asked as their limo approached Void, the high-end nightclub Nakamura Worldwide had rented out for the party. It’s the last night of my contract.

Hai, he was deeply aware of this, and already putting together a mental composite of what his next mistress would look like. Maybe a Russian girl this time. Or perhaps a Brazilian….

But to the woman currently on his arm, he simply said, We will see, before getting out of the car.

As they walked to the nightclub entrance, side-by-side but as far apart as two people could get, he wondered if he’d be able to stave off this uncomfortable conversation long enough to have sex tonight. It might not be worth the effort. He’d have to run a cost benefit analysis while putting in his time at this party.

Putting in his time. Another prison reference, he couldn’t help but notice. Funny and somewhat disturbing how he’d been referring to his life that way lately.

You can no go. Osaka Charm girls only tonight, a nearby voice was saying in broken English.

Yes, I know I’m not on the list, but listen, I am an Osaka Charm girl, okay? an American accented voice replied. Doug Tucker invited me. I just need to get inside for a second and find him. Then he’ll come back out here and vouch for me, okay?

No’s head tilted at the scene before him: a young black woman in a denim sundress pleading with the short but stocky security guard standing outside the club’s large metal door.

She wasn’t beautiful. At least not in the traditional sense. Her dress was cheap, her shoes mere sandals, and as for her nose…nearly every woman in his circle who’d had one even half as wide growing up, no longer did after the age of eighteen, which was when most plastic surgeons deemed it safe to operate.

But he couldn’t say she wasn’t mesmerizing. The woman had huge brown eyes, and under her cheap dress, rich and bountiful curves. And her hair…

No didn’t bother to keep up with most trends in Japan, but even he couldn’t help but be impressed by the lush thickness of her hair. It wasn’t so much a uniform afro as a shoulder-to-shoulder riot of black curls.

He was old school Japanese. Like his forefathers, he rarely touched women outside the bedroom, and especially not in public. Yet he found himself wanting to touch this woman’s curls. Wanting to touch her, with a need so sudden, the piercing ache took him by surprise.

I am sorry. You are not on— the guard was telling her in more broken English. Only to stop talking as soon as he saw No.

Oh! So sorry. Sorry! the guard said, profusely apologizing to Norio Nakamura in Japanese, and bowing again and again as he undid the velvet rope.

Let her in, No commanded him, also in Japanese.

Yes, of course, the guard answered, bowing toward Carina. She is your guest.

Not her. The American girl in the blue dress. Let her in, too.

Ooh, a black girl, Carina said in Japanese, her blue eyes brightening with understanding. We’ve never brought one of those home before. Nice palette cleanser!

Carina then showed herself not to be nearly as reserved as her Japanese counterparts. With a sly smile, she took the young black woman by the hand and said, Come with us, hon, as she pulled her into the dim, neon-lined hallway of the club.

The music was already thumping loudly as they walked down the hallway, thanks to the famous French DJ Nakamura Worldwide had flown in specifically for the event. A major expense, along with renting out one of Osaka’s most popular night clubs on a Friday night—also not cheap. Fortunately, Nakamura was one of the largest car and electronics manufacturers in the world, so they could easily afford it.

What’s your rate, love? Carina asked the American girl, yelling over the music.

Um… the girl answered.

Her eyes darted to No, back to Carina…and then she carefully withdrew her hand from the Australian’s grasp.

That question is very flattering. Seriously, so flattering. But I really have to go find my—ah, Doug. He’s the one who invited me here, so…bye.

But— Carina started, but the other woman darted into the belly of the warehouse Void used to be before it was converted into a trendy nightclub. And she was gone before Carina had the chance to explain how much more lucrative time spent with Norio Nakamura would be than with a measly team player. Carina barely had time to shout out, Wait, we have seats in VIP! You could join us! before the young woman had vanished.

However, the American girl’s hair made her easy to locate, once he and Carina settled into Void’s VIP area, a collection of black leather couches and small circular tables on the landing that overlooked the entire club.

Go get her, No instructed Carina, tipping his chin toward the woman weaving through the crowd

It’s our last night together, Mr. Nakamura, Carina whined in English. And she’s obviously here for the baseball players.

Obviously.

From his position, he watched the young woman wade through the crowd toward a black baseball player.

Doug Tucker. The one she’d come to see.

The American baseball player was dancing with a tall redhead in a body con dress. No other black girls had been invited to this party that No could see. However, upon seeing the girl in the denim dress, Tucker swept her up in his arms and began swaying side to side with her to the beat of the electronic music.

Indignation flooded No’s brain as he watched the two move together. Foreign women could be like that, he’d found. Going for the star athlete instead of the business man, letting fame outweigh the possibilities of what the right Japanese boyfriend could do for you.

But Tucker, he noted with annoyance, wasn’t even one of the team’s top players. A thirty-five-year-old who’d seen better days playing with the Seattle

Fishers—his father’s favorite American team. Had it not been for Tucker’s connection with the Fishers, he would never have been hired twelve years ago. As it was, he most likely wouldn’t have his contract renewed for the next season. So by choosing Tucker over him, the black woman showed very poor judgement indeed.

Nonetheless…

Explain who I am so she fully understands, he told Carina. Then invite her to join us tonight.

Carina didn’t look happy about his edict. But ever the consummate professional—one who was getting paid a small fortune to make his every fantasy come true—she deferred with a nod. "

A nod he barely acknowledged before returning his gaze to the scene below. No’s anger flared again as he continued to watch the woman with Tucker. Something inside him had determined she was already his. Not just for tonight, but quite possibly for the next six months if his body continued to respond to her as it was now.

However, she was currently tugging on Tucker’s arm. Perhaps trying to pull him toward one of the back rooms Osaka Charm would have designated for assignations during this event.

But Tucker shook his head and returned to the redhead, as if she could even compare with the girl who wanted him to come with her.

"I would like for you to go now please," he said to Carina who still hadn’t moved from her position beside him. He needed her to get there before the American player could be persuaded to leave with the woman, and No lost his chance.

Carina went. But almost as soon as she left, someone said,

Hayato, your brother must be distracted. Otherwise he would not show us such disrespect.

No turned to see his brother and father standing there with Osaka Charm girls at their sides. Hayato had a Japanese girl beside him, most likely hired just for tonight, since his brother didn’t keep mistresses. However, his father also had a girl No had never met with him. Chinese, No guessed, because they always were. And this one looked even younger than Carina. An interesting choice of mistress for a man who’d so easily dumped his first wife to marry someone Norio’s grandfather had deemed more appropriate.

Kazuo’s first wife didn’t take the divorce request well. And her suicide created a further stain on their family’s story. More death had followed after that. His grandfather succumbed to cancer a decade ago, and Norio’s mother had met an untimely death when No and his younger brother were in their early twenties. And now, it seemed to No, the older his father became, the harder he chased after a past that could never be recovered.

No gave both his father and brother bows, one much deeper than the other. All while trying to keep his eyes from straying back down to the dance floor.

I would like for us to sit, his father said with a bow of his own and an extended hand. A command disguised as an invitation.

No sat, again doing all he could not to look at the main floor below. A western girl, his father would understand. No had attended grad school in the States after all and Western girlfriends had long been considered trendy among the elite Japanese. But a Western black girl would be hard to explain, especially after what happened with No’s disavowed hafu older brother.

There were, No was aware, some fathers in the world who could talk with their sons about such things. For example, his former friend Go had once taken him home to celebrate the American holiday of Thanksgiving with his family in Indiana. No had been struck by how Go’s father had listened carefully to his son’s excited chatter about the side projects he and No had been working on. Not really understanding, but asking questions anyway, because he honestly seemed to want to know more about Go’s day-to-day life in the Carnegie Mellon Robotics program. Because he honestly cared about his younger son, no matter how strange Go might come off to everyone else.

No had found the entire conversation fascinating, especially because it was not one he would have dared to have with his father, who had never understood the concept of hobby projects. How will this benefit Nakamara Worldwide?—that would have been Kazuo’s first question. Have you made this American sign over his rights to the work?—his second. Then he would have commanded No to discontinue any extra research projects altogether unless they could be shown to profit the company.

As for his friendship with Go, the other students in their program nicknamed them Go and No for their similar interests and the amount of time they spent together, hyper-focused on those interests. But nickname and interests aside, the truth was they couldn’t have been further apart.

Go had been born into a humble Hispanic family, while No had come to Carnegie Mellon with both a driver and personal assistant on payroll. Also, No and his father didn’t have the same kind of relationship Go and his father shared. More like the exact opposite, with No withholding as much information as possible from his father to ensure Kazuo would never have reason to think him anything less than a fellow Nakamura hawk.

But shortly after Hayato, Kazuo, and he settled onto one of the VIP area’s couches, his past and present collided.

Our enemy in the States has suffered another setback, Kazuo informed his two sons. Looking directly at No, he said, I believe we should initiate talks with his parent company. Ask them to sell to RoTeku while his stock prices are low. We’ll end up paying less than our initial offer, and in this way will his lesson be learned.

No worked very carefully to keep his face neutral at the thought of attempting to take over GoBotics while its CEO was down. As far as his father was concerned, his son Norio had zero feelings one way or the other about Kazuo’s decision to destroy No’s former project partner after he refused RoTeku’s offer to buy his company. Nor did Kazuo suspect that what happened earlier in the year had been eating Norio up inside. His former best friend had been shot by a madwoman because of Kazuo’s behind-the-scenes machinations…

No had abandoned their friendship. Cut all communication as soon as Kazuo announced RoTeku would be putting in a bid for Go’s fledgling robotics company. It was his way of letting Go know that as illuminating as their grad school project partnership had been, he was first and foremost a Nakamura and he could never let a friendship come between his family’s company and their business interest. At least he thought he’d let go of the strange American with whom he’d shared a surprising rapport. Filed him away along with the projects they’d worked on together.

But what happened to Go earlier that year…it kept No up at night.

And on more than one occasion he’d shown up at the Umeda flat, the one he kept for mistresses, at three in the morning, choosing sex for lack of anything else to distract him from the insomnia that had been dogging him as of late. That was probably one of the reasons Carina was under the illusion that tonight might cement their status as a couple rather than end it.

Carina…

She had surely made it downstairs by now. How was the girl in the blue dress receiving his invitation? Do not look down. Whatever you do, do not look, No told himself. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the conversation with his father and brother.

May I request time on your calendars this week? No asked them. I can come up to Tokyo, and I would like to discuss reintroducing the driverless car initiative to the board.

Hayato, considered No’s proposal with a thoughtful nod. This might be a better use of our time where robotics are concerned.

But his father harrumphed. If we acquire our enemy’s company, we could use his emotion software to make our cars display a range of emotions. This would make us more appealing to our younger market.

He could barely hear his father words over the raging compulsion to look down. See if Carina had found their target. Do not look. Do not look, he repeated to himself as he opened his mouth to respond to his father.

But then he had to look, because shouts rang out from below.

Who do you think you are, man!? Huh?!?! Touching her like that!? Doug Tucker was drunkenly yelling at a Dominican player.

No fighting was one of the Nakamura Hawks staunchest rules, yet No predicted what would happen even before Tucker took the swing. The typical algorithm of American stupidity and machismo combined with too much alcohol after a season of mandated abstinence.

He watched Carina pull the girl back from the melee as a large brawl broke out.

And unfortunately, he never got his wish to interview the girl that night with Carina acting as hostess. His personal security detail quickly escorted him out of the club in one direction, while his father and brother went in the other. There were too many people at the event, some who might have snuck in phones with cameras. Better for them to be as far from the club as possible than pictured on tomorrow’s news.

A call put in to Osaka Charm by his second assistant had been even less fruitful. Yes, we have several girls we can send to Nakamura-sama, they’d told Miyuki. Can you describe the one he saw that night?

Miyuki had, and apparently the woman from

Reviews for His Revenge Baby

[Rosalinda · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It was a bit shallow the author could've gone more in depth because I like the story.