Stuck On My Stepbrother by Lilian Vale Page B

ordered for us,’ Adam said. ‘You won’t be needing the menu.’
    ‘Oh. Okay.’ I put the menu down. I knew my boss was controlling what I ate, but surely not when I was out at a restaurant? I’ve never had the opportunity to go to a fancy place like this in my life. I was kind of disappointed I didn’t at least get to pick one thing off the menu.
    ‘I’ve been here before,’ he said, as if sensing my disappointment. ‘I know the best dishes.’ He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as if savouring his surroundings, and then his gaze flicked back to me. ‘They make their own silken tofu here. The wasabi is grated fresh. The spicy miso with lobster is a specialty. I’ve ordered plenty. Don’t worry.’
    I felt embarrassed; I didn’t want him to think me ungrateful.
    The waitress appeared, said something which sounded Japanese to Adam, and he nodded, handed her the menus back, and then said something in Japanese to her. ‘There are over 40 types of saké on the menu,’ he told me. ‘Wait until you try this one.’
    The waitress brought over a small ceramic flask, along with two small, cylindrical cups. She bowed and then walked away.
    ‘Juyondai,’ said Adam, ‘is a much sought after, rare brand of saké. It’s produced by the Takagi Shuzo brewery, which was established in the seventeenth century. The brewery uses old methods but also experiments, making its output both traditional and ground-breaking. This saké here,’ he motioned at the flask, ‘is Ryugetsu Junmai Daiginjo Hyogo Toku A Yamada Nishiki.’ He paused. ‘ Toku A is the highest grade of Yamada Nishiki that money can buy. You’ll see in a moment when we taste it. There are subtle hints of aniseed, but it’s floral too. Exquisitely delicate.’
    I’d never tried saké. I wasn’t even sure if I liked it. I knew it was made of fermented rice. That didn’t exactly entice me.  
    ‘The flask is called a tokkuri ,’ he said, ‘and the cups are called choko . It is tradition for members of a party to pour out the drinks for each other.’ He looked at me and smiled. ‘I thought we could do that.’ He pushed a choko towards me. ‘Why don’t you pour mine first?’
    I looked up at him, relieved that he at least looked amused, and wasn’t taking this scenario too seriously. But something about the way he was smiling told me he was enjoying watching me squirm, too. I reached for the tokkuri, and lifted it carefully, noticing that my hands were shaking. I looked up at Adam, who looked down at the choko, and I began to pour. The saké trickled out. My hand was shaking so much that the flask trembled against the cup, making a rattling sound as I poured. ‘Sorry,’ I said mechanically, trying to be more careful, tilting the flask further away from the cup, but in doing so, pouring way too much saké out, and spilling some on the tablecloth. ‘Oh god, oh no. I’m really sorry, sir.’
    I’m such an idiot! How much does this stuff cost?
    Adam grasped my wrist, hard, so hard it reminded me of the time I’d been given a Chinese burn in the school playground when I was ten. I remembered how red and sore my forearm was for an hour afterwards. I remember Adam saying he’d find whoever did it to me and kill them… Adam took the flask from my hands, took the other choko, and poured out a measure of saké for me. He filled my cup to only half the height I’d filled his. None of it spilled.
    ‘Well, Rose, cheers.’ He lifted his cup and clinked it against mine. He lifted his lips carefully to his almost-overflowing cup, and shot me an amused look as he took a sip.
    I took a sip of my own drink, and was relieved to discover that I liked the taste. Actually, I really liked it. It was kind of like very dry white wine, or maybe sherry or port or one of those drinks my auntie always brings to our house at Christmas.
    Adam sat in silence, looking at me for a while, and I felt my cheeks begin to darken. I looked around awkwardly at the