Addicted (The Addicted Series, #1)(83)

I nodded politely. "Okay, but I may have to crash early. I'm exhausted after the past few weeks, and could look forward to a spa treatment and a long night's sleep."

"Done deal. Drinks at six, you've got a spa appointment at seven, on me. You did good Krystal."

Shannon left, and I turned back around, leaning against the wall to watch the production crew. I was just about to see if I could find a seat when there was a tap on my shoulder. "Miss Aksoy?"

I turned and was almost left speechless as Masaharu Morimoto stood in front of me. He was dressed in his competition uniform, and looked just as cool in person as he did on television. His accent was strong, but easy to understand. "Alton Brown said you were looking for me?"

"Chef Morimoto, it's truly an honor," I said, shaking his hand and bowing. He returned the bow, smiling softly the whole time. "Wow, I didn't think I'd be this star struck."

"It happens," Morimoto said. "By the way, I saw your effort during the last battle. You do good work. Am I correct in that you are a newly promoted line cook at Alinea?"

"Yes Chef," I replied. "I just got a place on the line about two months ago."

"With work like that, keep going, you'll be a sous or executive chef very quickly. Now, what can I do for you?"

I quickly explained Yuki's request for him, and his smile grew the entire time.

"You must be a good friend. All right, I'll sign something. Hold on just a moment." He turned and left me standing where I was, still somewhat star struck. He came back a few minutes later with a bag in his hand and handed it to me.

I opened the bag and felt my jaw hang open. Sitting inside was another of Chef Morimoto's jackets for Iron Chef, complete with the Japanese flag patch on the left arm. Across the chest were a bunch of Japanese calligraphy, along with his name in what I guessed was both Japanese and English. "This is . . . this is amazing."

"To the victor goes the spoils," Morimoto replied. "Just remember, if you ever come across me in the stadium, I won't be so kind." He smiled, and I could see both the good humor and the competitive streak within the man. I bowed deeply, and he returned the gesture.

Good luck, Miss Aksoy."

"Thank you, Chef. You too."

He headed out towards the stadium to do a last minute walkthrough with the production staff, and I went upstairs, looking for a seat. One of the production assistants pointed towards a small area behind the main cameras where I could sit without being in the shots for the episode, and I relaxed for the next two hours as the next battle continued.





* * *



Julian



Getting back to the apartment the next day, I still felt like my mind was whirling from everything Kimberly had shown me and told me. She'd let me crash on her floor that night after I spent the next four hours reading her files on my father, and I'd woken up with my legs and lower back in pain, but my heart lighter than ever. My entire soul felt like it was in a liquid state of change, and the world contained more possibilities than it had in years. I'd thanked Kim and caught a taxi back to K Station, still trying to decide what I wanted to do next.

As I stepped into the spartan interior of the apartment, I knew. I had to tell Krystal the way I felt about her, that was for sure. However, she wasn't supposed to be filming until later that day, so I didn't want to tell her before the taping. I knew the sort of emotional bombshell I had was not the sort of thing to tell someone right before a competition. Instead, I picked up my phone, and saw that the battery was dead. I'd left the stupid thing on for too long last night, and had forgotten to charge it the night before. Plugging it into the wall, I went into the bathroom that Krystal had said was mine and showered and shaved.

It felt good to get clean, and afterwards I looked into the mirror for a long time, wondering just what it was that was making me look so damn young and refreshed, considering I'd slept like hell. You're happy, dumbass, I finally whispered to myself when the realization struck me like a lightning bolt. Now go make things right.

I knew exactly what I needed to do while waiting for Krystal to finish her taping. I went back into my room and changed into some fresh clothes, and looked at my phone. It had some charge, but more importantly the cord stretched enough I could do what I needed to next. Opening the phone's memory, I found the number I was looking for and called. "Yes, Castelbon Manor."

"Hello Yuki," I said, a smile on my face. "Is Jo . . . is my father around?"

I could hear the surprise in Yuki's voice when she answered. I hadn't referred to Johnathan Castelbon as my father vocally in years. "Mister Julian . . . uhm, no he's not, but Mrs. Castelbon is here today. Would that be okay?"

"No, thank you though. I really need to talk to my father. Also, Yuki?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I . . . I just wanted to apologize for being a tremendous jerk to you for so many years. I know there's a lot to make up for, but I want to turn over a new leaf. Just . . . I'm sorry."

The silence on the other end stretched out for a minute, then Yuki replied. "No offense Mister Julian, but have you been drinking or taking drugs?"

"Not at all, Yuki. I'm clean and totally sober. Just sorry for being a jerk."

"Well then, apology accepted. I see Krystal has been a good influence on you. She called a week ago and spoke to her mother, told us you'd been staying in Chicago with her. Your father was worried."