by Holly Rayner
NINE
More than three weeks had passed since the festival of the Nine Nights. Amie had since had several more outings alone with Malik’s mother and sister and was feeling absolutely secure in the success of her and Malik’s ruse. They’d spent the last few weeks attending functions, hospital benefits, and family dinners, all the while keeping up appearances as a happy engaged couple.
The only problem? The more time they spent together, the more Amie struggled to draw the line between fantasy and reality. This was especially true today, as Malik informed her that he had a surprise for her: they would be spending the weekend somewhere outside of the city.
Malik made use of his jet once more and flew the two of them from Rabayat to Egypt in just a few hours. By lunchtime, they had arrived in beautiful Cairo.
As their taxi pulled into the city, Amie exclaimed that it was everything she had pictured it to be; a sprawling metropolis, deeply rooted in its ancient past. There were urban shopping areas and large malls, as well as palm trees and familiar highway traffic. The beautiful architecture of the buildings made her swoon, and the bustling downtown left nothing to be desired. The heat beat down on them relentlessly, but Amie wouldn’t have it ruin her day trip.
Amie couldn’t help jumping for joy with every famous attraction or historic site they passed. Malik mocked her as an over-enthusiastic tourist, which was when she informed him that she’d never been outside of the United States before—even back home, she’d only visited a few places: Indiana, Chicago, New York and Colorado. She was seeing things she’d only ever seen on documentaries or travel programs.
Malik took her to the bazaar district and told her in Egypt haggling was the norm. He tried his best to help her find the best deals. There were endless souvenirs of famous pharaohs and Ancient-Egyptian-inspired jewelry; so many, in fact, that by the end of it Amie couldn’t choose any one thing to take home with her.
After a long day of exploring, the pair returned to their home for the weekend: a private residence owned by two of Malik’s childhood friends, Ali and Selma, who cooked an amazing, authentic Egyptian feast and told them all the local gossip. Before long the foursome had talked well into the wee hours of the morning. The hosts insisted they share a bedroom and, after much protesting, Amie and Malik finally relented.
Malik insisted on taking the floor, and Amie was too tired to protest. She watched as he set up the spare pillows and blankets and start making something resembling a bed on the space next to the mattress. She watched him for several minutes before she finally came down to lay on the floor with him.
“This kind of defeats the purpose of me being down here,” he whispered.
“Talk to me, just for a minute,” she said with a sleepy smile, stealing some of his blankets.
“You want to talk about how silly and proud you look when someone mistakes you for a local?”
“Pass,” she giggled. “How about… why you brought me here?”
Malik looked at her for a moment and then turned on his side, propping his head up with his hand. “I love Egypt,” he said plainly. “You become a whole other person when you’re exploring a monument or when you’re in the market.” He shrugged as best he could with only one free arm. “It’s infectious, and I wanted for you to be able to experience it. Besides, I thought we could use a break from all the acting.”
She stared in wonder. “There are so many things I don’t know.”
He laughed, hard. “Well, I could have told you that!”
“Hey!” she laughed, smacking him lightly on the chest. She smiled and stared into his hazel eyes as some unwholesome feelings once again began stirring inside of her.
She looked away from him and stared up at the ceiling above, changing the subject quickly. “So, your mother wants to take me shopping for a wedding dress. Do you think I should I go with her?”
“Of course,” he smiled, “Whatever makes it more believable.”
“I like your mother,” she said plainly.
He laughed, as though there was no need to say as much. “I know,” he said with his brows raised. “You talk about her all the time.”
“Be nice! That’s your mama you’re talking about,” she joked.
“And she’s a lovely woman with many achievements under her belt,” he said dutifully. “I just don’t need to hear about it every minute.”
She stared at him for a moment and wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking. Feeling this, he finally turned his head to her and offered a playful wink.
“So… are you in a relationship back home?” Amie ventured.
Malik chuckled. “We went straight from my mother to my sex life?”
“Actually, no one mentioned your sex life,” Amie said, her voice betraying some annoyance. “I just asked if you were seeing anybody.”
“I’m not, currently. Are you?”
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “No…”
What right she had to know about his relationships, she had no idea. Would he even call them relationships? Zafina sure did like to rub in how many women her brother had been with, or how many women in Rabayat were hopelessly in love with him.
“Does it make you feel bad?” she asked quietly, her heart suddenly pounding as she wondered if what she was about to say would land her out of a job.
“Does what?” he asked quietly, looking into her eyes and absent-mindedly taking her hand in his.
“Lying,” Amie said plainly. “To your mother—to your whole family—about all this.”
“Actually, it doesn’t,” he laughed. “What I was doing before made me feel bad. This… this feels right.” He lifted her hand into the air and looked on as their fingers intertwined. “I’d rather they not be disappointed in me, or worry that I’m shaming the family. It’s not ideal, of course, but it’s better this way.”
“It’s a mother’s right to worry,” Amie teased.
He shrugged, finally releasing her hand from his. “Well, I have to say I’m a little tired of it. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”
“Or, you know, hide them,” she laughed.
He stared for a moment before relenting to a chuckle. “Or that, too. Now come on, to bed; we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“We do?”
He nodded and gestured as if to tell her to scoot her back to bed. “I’ll tell you in the morning.”
Amie would have protested, but no sooner had her head touched the pillow, she was already asleep, dreaming of pyramids, desert vistas, and handsome pharaohs.