![]() You can’t confide in me if I don’t respect you.” “Being prompt, it indicates that I respect and value your time. She was still getting herself sorted out, her raincoat hung up, rain boots replaced with slippers she’d been holding beneath the coat. ![]() “It’s a matter of professional courtesy,” she said, more like she was talking to herself than to me. It was almost easier for me to go to Yamada’s office than for her to come to me, but we’d come here instead. Dragon and Defiant were my custodians, and between them, they were traveling all over America, making it relatively easy to schedule a pick-up and drop-off. Was she borrowing a colleague’s office? For the last while, I’d been ferried here and there. The sheer heft of the chair and desk seemed out of proportion with Mrs. Yamada didn’t give me the impression of an airplane afficionado. There were model airplanes on the shelves and pictures of airplanes on the walls, and Mrs. Like, I couldn’t help but feel that the desk in the corner and the chairs were antiques, or at least very expensive. There was a level of care that went into it. ![]() The room, by contrast, clashed with her demeanor. Her clothes and shoes were much the same. She was average in height for a woman, which put her a little taller than most Japanese women, her hair cut short in what I took to be a utilitarian choice, but was styled enough to show a degree of effort. I knew right away that it wasn’t her office. She entered the office, a raincoat, boots and a messenger bag in her arms, her hair a touch damp, clearly flustered. ![]()
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