The Sheikh's Stolen Lover - A Second Chance Sweet Romance (The Sheikh's New Bride Book 5)

by Holly Rayner

  “You want the evening off to go to a party.” He seemed not to have heard much of what she’d said. “You think that’s a constructive use of time?”

  “It is Saturday night, sir.”

  “And you’ve just been MIA in a foreign country for a week. You’re already on thin ice, Mills. This is no time to be asking for favors.”

  “Please. Mr. Harris, it’s only one night.”

  “Absolutely not. You still haven’t made up for that Al Fahad disaster. I already told you to expect to work a lot of nights and weekends before your slate’s wiped clean. Frankly, I’m surprised you have the nerve to ask.”

  Ellie knew she had lost. “Yes, sir.”

  “And Mills?”

  “Yes?”

  “Wear something cocktail appropriate this time, will you? It’s a business meeting, not a funeral.”

  He disconnected without waiting for a response, leaving Ellie staring at the phone in shock. Harris could be a difficult boss, but he’d never spoken to her like that before. If she hadn’t heard it for herself, she wouldn’t have believed it.

  She clicked open the invitation in her inbox again and stared at it wistfully. Now that she couldn’t go, it seemed exponentially more appealing. Who knew when someone would next invite her to a party?

  She hit the reply button and typed up a quick RSVP expressing her regrets, then turned back to her work. Her job might be on the line, and the boss was unhappy with her. She couldn’t afford to be distracted.

  Chapter 38

  Ellie

  They had been muttering outside her office for the better part of fifteen minutes. Finally, she grew fed up. “Mark. Vince. Whatever it is, just come in here and talk about it.”

  She was anticipating that they might have heard about the potential layoffs. She didn’t especially want to have this conversation. Mark and Vince were, despite their faults, good enough employees that she didn’t want to see them lose their jobs. But based on what she knew, she couldn’t promise them they were safe.

  The guys skulked guiltily into her office.

  “Well?”

  No response.

  “What’s going on?”

  They eyed each other shiftily and she got the impression a silent conversation was going on. Finally, Mark spoke. “We’re taking you out tonight.”

  “What?” The proposition was so ludicrous that she actually burst out laughing. “Where do you think you’re taking me?”

  “Paul Bunyan’s.”

  “That’s a dive!”

  “Have you ever even been there?” Vince asked.

  “A few years ago.”

  “They overhauled it last spring. It’s nice now.”

  “Okay, so why does that mean I have to go there?”

  “Ellie, it’s your birthday.”

  She froze.

  They were right. It was.

  Ellie had had several uneventful birthdays in recent years. She’d spent her last one with her parents at her favorite steakhouse, which had been nice until the part of the evening where they’d dropped her off at home alone with a carryout bag. The year before, she’d celebrated with a pizza, a bottle of wine, and a movie. She always told herself that these little self-indulgences were exactly what she would have wanted for her birthday, but there was always a nagging feeling of emptiness on the day itself. Valentine’s Day had never troubled her, but on her birthday, she couldn’t help feeling the need for someone who cared.

  Mark and Vince care.

  They weren’t who she wanted, but she tore her thoughts away from Mahmoud and focused on the two men in front of her. They had shown up for her when no one else had. They might be irresponsible and offensive at times, but they listened to what she said. They had remembered her birthday when even she had forgotten.

  They’re my friends.

  I do have friends.

  They were watching her with concern now, and she realized they were afraid she was going to turn them down. She wondered what would happen. Would they give up on getting her out, or did they have some kind of plan B for winning her over?

  I wish Mahmoud had had a plan B.

  That’s not fair. I need to stop expecting people to have multiple ways to convince me to do the things I already want to do.

  Suddenly, her heart felt lighter. She had left Mahmoud. She had made the choice. For the first time since her plane had touched down on American soil, it felt like something she could live with. Yes, she cared for Mahmoud. Yes, those feelings were still there. But there had been no possible future for the two of them. As long as she was around him, she was always going to see the man who had vanished on her that night at Stanford. Even now, knowing that it hadn’t been his fault, that memory was so painful that she couldn’t put it out of her mind. She couldn’t move forward with him, and it wasn’t his fault.

  And by accepting that, maybe she could start to move forward without him.

  “We have to finish out the day,” she told the guys.

  They looked from her to each other, incredulous. “So… So you’ll come?” Mark said finally.

  “Wasn’t that the idea?”

  “We just thought you’d be harder to convince,” Vince said. “We had a whole hard sell planned.”

  “I’d honestly really love to hear that,” Ellie said. “You’ll have to pitch it to me tonight.”

  “It’s a date,” Mark said, then clapped a hand over his mouth. Vince slugged him on the arm. “We’ll see you at five, boss.”

  Ellie returned to her desk. For the first time since she’d returned home from Al Fahad, she was looking forward to something.

  Chapter 39

  Ellie

  The guys, it transpired, were right. Paul Bunyan’s had been completely transformed since the last time Ellie had seen it. When she had been here before, the place had had sticky floors and tables and the ceiling had been stained brown with water damage. Now the Formica and linoleum had been replaced with dark wood. The bar looked more like a hunting lodge.

  Mark found an open table and Vince pulled out his wallet. “First round is on me. What does everyone want?”

  “Shots!” Mark suggested eagerly.

  Ellie shook her head. “I haven’t done shots since college.”

  “No better time, then!”

  “No way. Not unless you want to end up holding my hair back.”

  “Is it bad that I kind of do?”

  “I’ll have a 7 and 7,” she told Vince.

  Mark rolled his eyes. “An old fashioned, then.”

  “You got it.” Vince disappeared into the crowd.

  “So.” Mark sat back in his chair. “Twenty-seven.”

  “How do you know that?” Ellie asked.

  “I follow you on social.”

  “You do?” Strangely, it had never occurred to her that her coworkers might have any interest in her personal life. If she’d thought of it, would she have locked her social media accounts so they couldn’t learn things about her? She wasn’t sure. It didn’t bother her for Mark to know her age, she supposed…but what else could he have found out?

  “You know what I noticed?” Mark said.

  Apparently he was going to tell her. She wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or alarmed. “What’s that?”

  “You didn’t post any pictures from Al Fahad.”

  “Yes I did! I posted a picture of the hotel, and the view from my window…”

  “Okay, sure, fine. But nothing from after I left.” He smirked slightly. “Too distracted by your lover to take pictures, I guess?”

  Vince returned with the drinks. “What are we talking about?”

  “Ellie’s lover.”

  “Oh my God. Stop saying ‘lover.’ I’m your boss.”

  “Okay, so tell us his name.”

  She couldn’t. They might not know who Mahmoud was, but Mark had already demonstrated a willingness to dig into Ellie’s private business using the internet. Any information she gave him could be used against her. “
Bahir,” she said. “His name is Bahir.”

  “And what does this Bahir look like? More like me or more like Vince?”

  “He doesn’t look anything like either one of you. He’s…taller. Muscular. He has facial hair. And his eyes… His eyes always look like he’s smiling.”

  Vince whistled, long and low. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “I’m fine.” She sipped her drink. “It’s for the best that we went our separate ways.”

  She said it with all the sincerity she could muster, but she still couldn’t convince herself.

  Chapter 40

  Ellie

  Ellie wore a modest navy dress with a matching blazer to the Saturday night meeting, in silent rejection of Harris’ request. To her chagrin, she was the first one to arrive at the restaurant. She ordered a glass of water, reasoning that, if she was going to be here, Noralli was absolutely going to pay for everything, and she didn’t want Harris arguing that anything she’d eaten or drunk had been off the clock.

  She’d been waiting for almost twenty minutes when Harris and the two investors showed up. They arrived together and had clearly been somewhere else socializing before the meeting. Ellie felt her irritation with the situation begin to grow. Surely the investors could have asked their questions by now and everyone could go home? More and more, this was starting to seem like deliberate punishment. There was no reason to be here.

  She stood and flagged them over, and they joined her at her table. “Gents, this is Ellie Mills,” Harris said. “She’s one of our leading project managers.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you,” she said, shaking their hands.

  “What are you drinking, Ms. Mills?” the older of the two men asked. He wore a ludicrous paisley tie and rimless glasses.

  “Just water.”

  “Well, that won’t do! Let’s get some cocktails over here!” He snapped his fingers at a waitress. “Hey! Can we get some G&Ts?”

  The waitress was clearly irritated, but trying not to show it. “How many?”

  “Four.”

  “I really don’t need…” Ellie began.

  “No, no, drink with us,” he cut her off. “Okay. We’re here to discuss Noralli Technologies’ future potential and what we can do to help you achieve it. So why don’t you tell us a little about what you’ve got in mind for the next six months?”

  Harris began feeding out a line that, as far as Ellie knew, was completely made up. Certainly, she had never heard of any of the projects he was referencing.

  She nodded along, trying to look excited, but the truth was that she was afraid none of these ideas could possibly come to fruition. Harris was hinting at a groundbreaking app that would change the landscape of in-game purchasing. What could that possibly be?

  Then it got worse.

  “Ellie,” Harris said. “Why don’t you go into a little more detail about what your team has been working on?”

  What her team had been working on? She’d been catching up on emails all week, and before that they’d been working on the now-dead NorMo for over a year. What did he want her to say? “Um,” she stalled. “It’s definitely going to be groundbreaking.”

  “But what is the app?” asked the younger of the two investors, who was at least wearing a plain blue tie. “What does it do? My kids spend hundreds of dollars a month already on in-game purchasing. It drives me up a tree.”

  “We want customers to spend even more,” Harris clarified. “The idea is to create something so accessible, so irresistible, that no one will hesitate to tap that ‘buy more turns’ button.”

  The young investor groaned. “Don’t tell my wife that.”

  “So what’s so convincing about it?” Paisley Tie asked. “It’s not like in-game purchases are an untapped market. What differentiates yours from the pack?”

  Harris looked at her. “Tell them, Ellie.”

  She saw what he was doing now. This was a setup. Maybe he’d found out that Liam had leaked the agenda of the Monday meeting and wanted to rob her of the opportunity to prepare. Maybe he was just so bitter about the Al Fahad fiasco that he couldn’t resist the opportunity to embarrass her. Either way, there was little chance of Ellie escaping this meeting with her job intact.

  Suddenly, she was furious. So she’d messed up. So he wanted to punish her. That was no reason to jeopardize Noralli’s future by making them all look bad in front of these investors. She wasn’t the only one who stood to lose here. If Harris had already been considering layoffs, he couldn’t afford to play games like this. It could cost lots of good people their jobs.

  She wanted to hurt him back.

  “It’s really something,” she said, “but if you really want to get the idea, you should see it for yourself. Why not come by the office on Monday and sit in on our staff meeting? One of our developers will be giving a presentation, and you can get a look at how it all works.”

  Harris frowned.

  “That’s a fine idea,” Paisley Tie said. “I think we’ll take you up on that.”

  “Good,” Ellie said. Let them sit in that meeting and watch nobody have any ideas like the one Harris had alluded to. Let them see the real Noralli instead of the front he was showing them. That ought to teach him not to gamble with investors.

  Ellie glanced at her phone. It was seven forty-five. The reunion would be in full swing by now. People from her past would be sipping champagne and reminiscing.

  Would anyone wonder where Ellie Mills was?

  “Ellie,” Harris snapped. “Are we keeping you from something?”

  And suddenly she couldn’t take another minute.

  “You know what,” she said, getting to her feet. “I do have somewhere else I need to be. It was very nice to meet you, gentlemen. I hope you can make it on Monday. It’s bound to be a show.” With that, she gathered her purse and phone and headed for the door.

  “Ellie!” Harris yelled.

  She didn’t look back.

  Chapter 41

  Ellie

  The parking lot outside the Two Cedars hotel was absolutely packed. Ellie was forced to park so far away that it felt like she was in another time zone. After some internal debate, she decided to leave her blazer in the car. It was a little chilly outside, but she wanted to look as if she’d dressed for a party and not the world’s least successful business meeting.

  I am definitely fired.

  To her surprise, the overwhelming sensation she felt was relief.

  That was a scary thought. Ellie had built her adult life around her job at Noralli. Now it was all gone, and she wasn’t even regretful. Her life must have been truly empty, then, for years.

  I cared about NorMo. That was true. She was still upset about the cancellation of her app. But without it, her role at Noralli had been meaningless. She was glad to be putting it behind her.

  But what do I care about now? I have no job, no development projects. No Mahmoud.

  Ellie sighed. Maybe she would get a pet.

  Maybe this hadn’t been the best time in her life to come and face a group of old friends who would want to know, in detail, how things were going for her. But it felt too late to back out now. She had blown off Harris and the investors. She couldn’t just go home and watch TV. She had to see this through.

  A young woman Ellie vaguely recognized sat behind a table in the hotel lobby. A sign behind her read “STANFORD CLASS OF 2012. SIGN IN HERE!”

  The woman smiled at Ellie as she approached the table. “Hi! Here for the reunion? You’re a little late, I’m afraid. You’ve missed the speakers.”

  “That’s all right,” Ellie said.

  The woman picked up a clipboard. “Name?”

  “Ellie Mills. But, um, I might not be on that list. I RSVP’d no to the invitation.”

  “Oh.” The woman frowned. “We based the catering numbers and liquor license on those RSVPs.”

  “I don’t have to eat or drink anything. That’s fine. I just… My evening opened up unexpectedly, and I’d really lik
e to get in touch with some old friends.”

  The woman hesitated, then nodded. “Sure, no problem.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Here, take a name tag.” The woman handed her a blank one along with a permanent marker. “It’s cocktail hour right now. Feel free to get a water or soft drink from the bar, and there are plenty of chips and vegetables and things to snack on.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Ellie Mills, you said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would I have known you?”

  “I don’t know. I was a computer science major. I didn’t really do any extracurricular stuff.”

  “Wait. Were you friends with the girl who stole all those trays from the cafeteria our sophomore year?”

  Ellie laughed, remembering. “That was Claire! Yeah, she’s one of my best friends. I mean, she was. We haven’t talked in a few years. Do you know if she’s here?”

  “I thought I saw her earlier.” The woman was smiling now. “I remember that day. It seemed like everyone went to the beach to bodysurf on those trays.”

  Ellie remembered too. It had been such a strange and hilarious idea that she hadn’t been able to resist going along with it. The trays turned out to make terrible boards for bodysurfing, but for some reason, none of the dozens of students who had gone to Santa Cruz had abandoned the idea. Instead, they’d stayed out for hours, rushing back into the waves over and over, convinced that next time, it would work.

  She pictured the woman before her five years younger, with sun-lightened hair and sun-browned skin. “I remember seeing you there,” she realized.

  “See? This is what makes reunions so great. You discover missed connections.” The woman grinned and held out her hand. “I’m Nicole. Pleased to meet you officially, Ellie.”

  Ellie smiled back.

  Nicole gave her directions to the conference room. It was around the corner and down a long, quiet hall, and Ellie had the impression she was somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.