The Cost To Play (Slivers of Love) Read online

  Chapter 3

  At 4:00 pm on Friday afternoon, Toshi dressed as Gambit from the X-Men and headed downstairs to the hotel lobby to mix and mingle with the other conference attendees. Many con junkies came early to meet the prettiest ladies and maybe score a conference hook up. This had only happened twice for him, but he was single again, so his mind was open to the possibilities. Slipping into the black seamless pants, and picking up a deck of cards, he held up an ace of spades to any woman who caught his eye. Thus far, there had been only two. So many of these attendees were very young and if any reminded him of a student, he shied away.

  Vendors had set up earlier in the afternoon. At such a small con, there weren’t many writers, artists, or designers present, but Toshi had been tapped to teach two of the classes on Saturday. One in the morning and the other in the afternoon. He was looking forward to it. As he passed by the vendor room, he nearly kept walking but was halted by a vision of delightfulness bent over into a bin of buttons and tchotchkes. In his mind, he hoped it was a woman. The purple Lycra pants, black hair, and a glimpse at side boob said female. It would be most uncomfortable for him if she were not. Feeling confident, he leaned down and whispered close to her ear, “that has to be the most perfect ass I have ever seen.”

  The princess with the perfect posterior turned slowly, raised her body to full height, and faced Toshi with a look of disgust, “you do realize you said that out loud, right?”

  The directness of her tone made Toshi step back. He was also surprised to see that she was a black woman, with a whole lot of attitude. The heels she wore gave her an additional few inches in height, but he imagined her in stocking feet to stand only at five feet maybe four inches. She had full lips and deep, wide set brown eyes that looked like pools of liquid milk chocolate. She had a gap in her teeth and the cutest nose he had ever seen on any woman. Initially, he had thought the hair to be a wig, but as he stared at her, it did not take long to understand it was actually her hair.

  “I meant to say it loud enough for you to hear me,” he added with a cockiness that was unlike him. Being dressed as Gambit, he felt stronger, more powerful, and far more daring than he should. “At least I didn’t ask you to sit it in my lap.” He stood with his legs shoulder width apart, his arms folded across his midriff, calling her out. By making such a bold move, Toshi also noticed that his heart rate had increased.

  Toshi thought she looked extremely hot dressed as Bling, and much like the comic book character, attitude and angst radiated from her. Jayne was staring at the costumed man, but it was unclear if behind the mask he was Japanese or Chinese. What was evident was the man was arrogant and thought she was an easy mark. She moved closer to him, bringing a smaller smile to his face as she extended her index finger, wiggling it, beckoning him to come closer. “I like the costume Gambit and I like how you decided to take a gamble, but I have to let you know something very important.” She paused to drive home the words she was going to hit him with, “but….”

  Toshi leaned closer to hear what she had to say. He placed his hand upon his chest in mock chivalry, but it was really an effort to quell the rapid beating of his heart. She smiled as she delivered the words, “you are an asshole.”

  He reacted as if he had been slapped. She pushed him to the side and walked passed him heading into the conference registration area. He watched her sashay away with more than a casual interest. The initial assessment had not changed. That was still the most perfect ass he had ever seen in his life, but the woman who owned it, was a handful. He found himself with a very wide grin that harbored a very playful thought. That ass was a perfect handful as well.

  Toshi felt stimulated by her. Her words had hurt his feelings. That was something that had never happened before and he did not like the idea of her thinking of him as an asshole. He called after her. “There you go again, just walking away from the team.”

  The lady stopped dead in her tracks. Giving just enough of a turn. “I was never truly a part of the team.”

  She walked away. The faint scent of her perfume still lingered in the air. It was mixed with whatever she used on her hair. Toshi’s body reacted. Emotions flooded through him and confusion was knocking at the chunks of blockades that had grown into his cerebral cortex. He had slept with a black woman before, actually, all races of women, but never really considered it anything other than a physical release. Yet that creamy skinned vixen, moved him. For the first time in several years, he felt something stirring him up.

  This was going to be a great weekend.

  Jayne was an artist and a very good one, but there were two things Jayne was not; easy and easy going. Comic books and painting were her first love, cosplaying was her second, with costume designing coming in a close third. Men were something she had little time for, although her body frequently reminded her of the important role they played in the life of a woman. More so if she planned to procreate. However, children were nowhere on her list of things to get done in her lifetime. Her experience with men had been limited, with only one serious sexual partner to her credit, whom she seldom spoke of nor had many fond memories. Alex had been the first man she been intimate with. Time was moving along at such a clip, that there was little time left to worry about the insignificance of a warm body next to her in bed. Although most conferences served as hookups for the lonely and disenfranchised, for her, this conference was her opportunity to display her newest anime outfit, make a few contacts, and hopefully have a remote chance of winning a prize.

  The insulting man in the vendor shop had been just another testosterone filled moron who wanted to get into her pants before getting into her head. Her eyes grew wide at the mere thought of the stories she could tell about the misunderstandings from men who wanted to be a part of her world, but really did not understand what she was trying to accomplish. Jayne wanted to be a costume designer and design an original comic book character.

  She lived art. She drank art. In her free time, she breathed comics and she knew this year was going to be her swan song. This year she was going to debut her comic book even if she had to self-publish it on Kindle or Blurb. The work was good. The script was even better. The art work was high caliber, but it was lacking something. She could not put her finger on it, but there was still some time to figure out the defunct.

  At 28 years old, Jayne had scored her job with Cawley Public Relations after an internship her senior year in art school. She had not planned to stay with the company for five years, but it was a good fit. Moving back home had not been an easy decision, but her Grammy was getting up in age and the break up with Alex had nearly cost her the small amount of sanity that was left over after sketching and scribbling fictional characters. Occasionally, she would make it to a con and get to dress up as one of her favorite characters as well.

  Cosplaying to her was a step beyond LARPing and far more fun. Cosplay was a great way for costume designers to get together and show off their craft. The conferences allowed other comic book, fantasy, and science fiction lovers to get together and play games. To her, there was a big difference between cosplaying and LARPing. LARPing is live action role-playing, where the characters actually create scenarios and reenact scenes. That was just a bit too geeky for Jayne’s taste. However, getting a chance to don a costume and become the character, changed the way she felt about herself. She loved how the costumes made her feel. In costume, she was powerful and pretty.

  Commanding. Admired. Loved.

  None of the things she exhibited in real life. In real life, she was a petite weird black woman, with crazy hair, a gap in her teeth and dreams that men did not understand. Even her mother didn’t understand her. She felt at times that her friends were humoring her when they listened to her stories. Eventually, she had stopped sharing her ideas. None of what she said was coming to fruition, so it was all just a pipe dream. Or so it had been. This weekend, she was going to change her fate. Winning this costume contest was going to change her storyline. This was going to move her
dream forward.

  Something made her come to a stop. Besides the several people wanting to take photos with her, she felt eyes boring into her back. Slowly she turned around and spotted the Gambit dude still watching her. Camera flashes were going off as she posed with a few children, two men, and the last one she took, she posed in a fighting stance. The shock she felt when she realized she was posing with Gambit was almost too much. The charge between the two of them was palpable.

  A small crowd began to gather as Gambit slid into another pose. Not to be outdone, she altered her stance to a second pose matching him. The crowd began to chant as Gambit pulled playing cards from his pockets and sent them flying into crowd. In a flash, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her close, segueing into a third pose that caused the crowd to go mad. He held her close with his hands in the small of her back. She could feel the power of his thighs pressing against her own while the male part of him pressed to her delicate part as he hoisted her thigh to ensure she felt his enthusiasm. The kids were all smiling. The flashes from the cameras had nearly blinded her, but she got a grip on herself. Without making a scene, Jayne pulled away, bowed to the audience, and kowtowed to Gambit, making eye contact with him while mouthing the words, “asshole.”

  She rounded the corner with Toshi on her heels, but the throng of people closed in on him wanting more pictures. He would not be able to get to her in time and he felt antsy, charged up, excited and ready for…….whatever. He wasn’t sure. Toshi knew that whatever it was, it included that woman.

  Jayne rounded the corner, out of breath and full of conflicted emotions. When Gambit took her hand, the sparks that flew up her arm were electric. The man was a pig to even pull her in close like that, so she could feel the pure maleness of his body. It was offensive! Yet, she had never experienced such an intense feeling with anyone.

  Chapter 4

  The light from the ceiling was cascading down on the dais, illuminating the strong facial features of the instructor. Jayne watched with some amusement as she eyed his strong jawline, high cheek bones, and Asian eyes. His irises were dark, giving him an aura of mystery, intrigue, and a hint of something she could not mash her finger into. Something felt familiar about him, but his skill set with shadowing was amazing. Each stroke of his wrist sparked her imagination as he tinted the panels of each comic book cell, demonstrating how to darken areas of the body to simulate motion. It was uncertain if the attraction she was feeling derived from his talent or the confidence which radiated from his role as an instructor. Either way, Dr. Toshi Yamaguchi was sexy as hell to her.

  She had never dated an Asian man, nor had any interest in doing so until now, but this man was giving her second thoughts. First that Gambit dude, now him. She thought back to her philosophy professor, who found Freudian meaning in every occurrence. She had met two very different Asian men in two days. One she found completely repulsive. The other, she found fascinating. The soft confident way in which he delivered the two hour block of instruction was followed along with a trancelike state of conference goers. Jayne found herself hypnotized by his words and enlightened with his instruction.

  Banzaicon was only the fourth conference that Jayne had attended in her life. Outside of her run-in with that Gambit guy, she was enjoying herself immensely. After the check in on Friday night, she noticed two new classes had been added to the schedule. Shadowing Techniques for Comics, and Creating Original Characters. She jumped at the chance to take the courses. Thus far she had not been disappointed. The instructor was absolutely phenomenal as he used his tablet to sketch out designs, while having the audience follow along. Jayne was even more impressed that he left the make shift stage to walk through the room to check the progress of each of the attendee’s work before he moved on to the next technique. At some instance during the instruction, it was twice as impressive that Dr. Yamaguchi laid eyes on every single drawing in the room, providing quasi one on one with every attendee in the session. This was doubly impressive, considering it was standing room only. The younger fans were eating it up, when he looked at their pages, giving canned responses of “good, a little darker here,” or “great job.” Jayne even found she puffed up a bit when he glanced at her work, stating “good eye for detail.” Now she felt foolish because he smelled good too. She was fighting back the urge to get all goofy like many of the women on the front row were.

  In the final steps of the drawing, Dr. Yamaguchi employed an old technique of using time lapse to dictate shadow. “Start your shadowing technique at noon. To simulate running, shift the shadow to two o’clock, then three in the next frame.” Jayne had never considered such a thing, but when he demonstrated his idea in three panels, the whole room said, “ahhh.” Before long, the two hours were up. Dr. Yamaguchi thanked everyone for coming.

  The young women flocked to the instructor as Jayne sat, still sketching out an idea that had come to mind based on his last words. No other course had been planned in this room until after lunch, so she continued to work, drafting through her ideas. She was listening, but not listening. As the instructor escorted the women to the door, his deep voice reminded her of the bad guy in the Karate movies who always came into the whore house and drank up all the Sake. He told the young ladies, “I must leave now to grab a bite to eat, before the next session. Excuse me.” She found herself smiling as she mimicked, “ah, yes, Mr. Woo, so glad to have you in our fine establishment.” She let out a pretend courtesan giggle like she had heard the Asian women do in the movies.

  One of the young ladies asked him to join her, but he declined, saying he had already committed to having lunch with a friend. Jayne heard that part from his practiced lines and just imagined his new friend as some dim-witted ingénue in a Sailor Moon costume. Dr. Yamaguchi’s deep voice was rich with southern undertones and dripping with the practiced ease of a very expensive education. The ladies sounded disappointed, but he turned to Jayne asking, “Are we ready my friend? I am starving.”

  Jayne looked over her shoulder to see who he was talking to and spying no one else in the room, she quickly realized it was her. The look on his face was asking for a rescue which made her gather her things and say, “sure thing ole pal. Ready when you are.”

  He opened the outer door for her and led the way to the hotel restaurant. “I only have an hour or so before the next session, so I hope you don’t mind eating here and…” he paused, cutting her a slide glance. “…you do know I heard you back there?”

  She gulped, lowering her head in shame at the racial stereotype she had projected, mumbling an apology. She would make it up to him over lunch. Jayne had not realized how hungry she had been until she smelled the food. The hotel restaurant did not seem like a good idea, but most of the conference attendees were headed out for pizza or sandwiches, which left the lobby seating open. Toshi pulled out a chair for her then went to the bar to grab a couple of menus.

  What are you doing here with him? Wild thoughts ran through her mind that it was going to be the prickliest lunch ever, but to her surprise it was not. The conversation was light after he thanked her for coming to his rescue. His voice remained steady as he said, “I love to attend cons, but I am uncertain if many of the attendees are even old enough to drink, so I err on the side of caution.”

  “You seem to have a great number of groupies for an artist.”

  He smiled as he raised his hand for the waiter to come over. “Art is sexy. I am an artist.” He arched an eyebrow indicating that she needed to deduct the final formula.

  “You are a sexy artist,” she said in a flat voice. It more of a question that a logical deduction.

  “Really, you think so? I thank you.” He let out a chuckle before adding, “have you decided what you would like?”

  Jayne looked at the menu and decided on a Chicken Caesar Salad, as she watched him over the rim of her glasses. He ordered a pot of tea. Since she had been insulting before, she felt she needed him to understand that she was not ignorant of his culture. When the tea arrived, s
he stood and kowtowed to him while filling his tea cup. She poured a bit for herself then took a seat. He watched her with some interest, but his facial expressions were indecipherable.

  As the food arrived, he ate rice with chopped vegetables and Sautéed Chicken, as he reviewed notes and sketches. It felt peculiar to sit here like this with him, sharing a meal, yet it was perfectly comfortable. They were sharing a space, but not sharing each other. He had not asked her name and she had not volunteered to provide him with it.

  She looked up from her salad and found him staring at her. “What?” she asked.

  “There is something about you that speaks to me,” he said as he cut into the last chunk of chicken.

  Jayne wasn’t sure if it was a pick up line or another smart ass comment. “Thank you,” was all she could muster. He sat there waiting for her to say something.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know,” he said as he shrugged his shoulders. “There is something about you. Your qi is calling to me.” His heart rate had picked up again. This was an uncommon reaction for him around a woman. Although he had been with a few black women before, she felt different. It unsettled him.

  “I thought Chi was a Chinese term,” she said while continuing to eat her meal but looked at her watch.

  “Qi, or, chi and even Xi, are terms that are in several languages. All meaning life force. I don’t know what it is about you….” His words trailed off as he eyed the check.

  There was a quick demonstration on Kimono making in one of the break out rooms that she wanted to see before going to his next session on creating original characters. She picked up her purse, grabbed a twenty from her wallet, and laid it on the table. “Well, today is not the day for you to figure it out.” She bowed again and told him to take care as she headed down the hall to the demonstration.