Author's Note: This series of short stories are intended to be episodic and thus can be read alone. Any feedback, criticisms or improvements are always welcome. The author also invites reader suggestions about what they would like to see Xanthe do next.
Xanthe leaned over the polished cherry wood counter that constituted the elaborate bar of the gentleman's club. She had flown into Japan that morning with a senior delegation from work and they had spent the entire day, almost from the moment they stepped off the plane, involved in hectic negotiations with their client's distributors.
They had finally reached the end of their negotiations, successful, but tired and left in a alien country which most of them had never been too. One of the senior company executives from the Japanese company had cordially invited them to what he considered the perfect place for the seven weary travelers to have dinner, learn a bit about his country and find a relaxing environment.
Xanthe remembered the hushed talks between her boss, Mr. Phillips, and the Japanese executive and his aides. She got the strange feeling that they were talking about her, their quick glimpses towards her and animated discussions only made her more suspicious and that conclusion easier to reach.
Xanthe was the only woman in the seven member delegation and she surmised that the discussion was about whether they could bring a woman into the exclusive gentleman's club. She was surprised that her short, dumpy, balding boss was so adamant that wherever the party went, Xanthe had to be included.
The senior Japanese executive did not appear to be happy with the decision and as soon as they walked into the luxurious surroundings of the club's inner sanctum he promptly disappeared to visit with other executive colleagues, thus leaving his aides to apologize and cater for his foreign guests.
Xanthe had heard of the famous Japanese gentlemen's clubs, they were somewhat of a secret brotherhood for the wealthy and powerful, a combination of a bar, restaurant, health spa and brothel which catered to the rich elite of Japanese society. The club was nothing like she had ever seen back home. She tried to remain somewhat unnoticed when they walked in, not wanting to be the source of any offence to the patrons' sensibilities.
After dinner they retired to the bar. It was the middle of the week and most of the businessmen who frequented the club had left early for home. Only a smattering of businessmen sat in the lounge with their female hosts, who served drinks, talked to them and provided entertainment. The dimmed lighting, soft tranquil music and exquisite flowing artwork of the interior all engendered a soothing atmosphere.
The longer the party had stayed the more at ease Xanthe began to feel. The other patrons of the club had stopped gawking at her and uttering comments under their breath, doubtlessly shocked by the presence of a woman. Their Japanese accompaniment gradually filtered out and the seven foreigners were left to the gracious company of several Japanese female hosts.
The women brought them drinks and playfully sat on the laps of a couple of the senior associates who shared a laugh with them. Mr. Phillips, the short bald rotund boss watched quietly from the end of the bar with a grim look on his face as his employees enjoyed their time. He looked down the bar and saw the petite red headed Xanthe sitting at the opposite end, isolated from everyone else. She seemed to be half asleep.
Xanthe felt extreme relaxation, her senses turned off to the outside world. It was an extraordinarily blissful state to be in. All of sudden she snapped back to attention, a vibration running through the heavy wooden counter and up her elbows deep into her being. Her eyes shot open and she turned to see what had disturbed her peace. It was Mr. Phillips.
"We should be heading off soon, we'll have another long day tomorrow," he announced, his gravelly voice carried with it the connotation of authority. None of the senior associates behind him paid the comment any attention, they continued to drink and unwind with their hosts.
A tall lean Japanese woman walked up to Mr. Phillips. Xanthe eyed her as she bent over, wearing a traditional floral kimono she whispered in his ear. Her long flowing black hair caught Xanthe's attention. It was tied up in an intricate arrangement with a pair of chopsticks skewering the knot. He shook his head and took another sip from his drink. The woman continued, her hand delicately resting on his shoulder, but he seemed adamant that he wasn't interested. The woman turned and looked Xanthe in the eye. Her crimson lips formed a broad smile. She turned and left the two colleagues to continue their conversation.
"Damned women won't leave you alone in this place," Mr. Phillips bellowed to Xanthe but also calculated for the others to hear. "I told her I'm married and I didn't want to have a 'massage' as they keep saying."
He finished the last of his drink and roughly clanged the glass on the bar counter, the woman who had talked to him was now standing behind the counter in the process of cleaning up the empty glass with another respectful smile and bow of the head. Xanthe followed her across the room. She seemed to float calmly around the drunken bodies of her colleagues but offered them limitless attention when necessary.
The woman returned to Mr. Phillips side again whispering to him, again he seemed to refuse her advances. He stood up, the woman stood a few inches taller than his short stubby figure. He reached into his pocket and produced some notes giving them to her. She turned and headed for the main door disappearing behind one of the paper walls.
"Right you guys, I'm going back to the hotel," Mr. Phillips declared. "I expect all of you to be back at the hotel shortly after me. We have a lot of important work tomorrow and I don't need any off-color team members. Remember you're here representing the firm, no trouble."
With that the bullish man followed the same path as the Japanese woman to the front door and cloak room. The senior associates didn't seem to be too fussed by the boss's demands and as soon as he was out of hearing range they shared a laugh, undoubtedly at his expense.
Xanthe went back into her slumber, thinking to herself, her mind descending into total relaxation and her body mellowed in turn. She watched as one of the senior associates stood and gave his host a small peck on the cheek and with a round of laughter headed for the door. He was followed shortly thereafter by another, and then a third.
The club seemed to be emptying gradually. Xanthe remained alone but enjoyed the peaceful ambience. The same Japanese woman materialized in front of her. Xanthe gazed innocently at her, watching her perform a variety of tasks.
Suddenly the sound of voices erupted to her left and she turned to see what the commotion was about. A middle aged Japanese businessman, in his immaculate suit strolled jauntily out of the rear hallway with a female host on his arm. The two shared a few laughs and a rapid fire conversation that Xanthe could not readily understand. She had seen men and their hosts go back and forth from the rear hallway all night, it appeared that the rooms behind the bar were for more 'personal' entertainment.
Xanthe turned back towards the bar and met the woman's gaze. She had stopped tidying up the bar and was watching Xanthe intently. The Japanese woman smiled and gave a polite nod. "You are all alone?" she asked in a quiet respectful voice.
"Ummm, yeah I guess," Xanthe replied, she looked down the bar to see that her colleagues had disappeared and there was no sign of their hosts. "Yeah, I'm alone. My name is Xanthe."
