by Leslie North
Liyah and Mila were both slender women, but the shorts and the top fit Katie perfectly. Following the instructions on the note, she found the driver waiting outside for her. She figured she’d enjoy some tea and walk around the marketplace, have some lunch, and then head home in the afternoon to start the job search again.
The market bazaar was crowded despite the earliness of the hour. Everyone probably wanted to beat the afternoon heat.
She purchased a cup of chai tea from a vendor and slowly walked around to take everything in. The bartering was intense, always escalating into an argument that mingled with the laughter within the rest of the marketplace. Vendors approached her eagerly with beautiful things. Ornate jewelry, fresh fruits and vegetables, hand-painted books of poetry: Katie politely brushed them off, but she did stop and linger at some of the carts carrying gorgeous prints and carved woodwork.
Finally, slightly overwhelmed from the crowd and the strong perfume and spice aromas, she took refuge in the lounge that Mila and Liyah had recommended. The place had just opened for lunch, and the dark, cool air offered a nice reprieve.
The hostess seated her. She took her time with the menu. Having skipped breakfast, her stomach rumbled, but at the same time, her mind was wandering. There had been so many interested-sounding emails when she’d first put out feelers, and it had never occurred to her that she’d have trouble finding a job. What was she lacking? She’d done well in school, excelled in her internship, and gained prestige through her work.
She was damn good at what she did—so what was the problem?
Maybe it was something to do with confidence. This was a different culture. She needed to do more than prove herself on paper. She needed to prove that she was just as good as any man.
“Welcome. I’m Fatima, and I’ll be taking care of you today. I’m actually one of the managers here.”
Katie looked up in confusion. “Do I warrant a manager?”
“The hostess told me that you gave her the Al Sharifs’ card. They have a running tab here, so I just want to make sure that you get the best service we have to offer. And that’s me. How do you know the Sharif brothers?”
“I know them through their wives. Mila and Liyah? Mila used to work here, right?”
“She did!” Fatima flashed a big smile. “We were such good friends when she was here. Are you here with the exchange program?”
Pleased to meet another friendly face, Katie put the menu down and relaxed. “Not exactly. I’m here on a work visa, and Sahaar offered me a room. They’ve all been so welcoming here.”
“A work visa? What are you here for?”
“I’m hoping to get a job working as a curator. Were you at Mila’s wedding? I don’t remember you—but then, I didn’t really know anyone.”
Fatima airily waved her hand. “Oh, I couldn’t make it.”
Fatima couldn’t make what had looked like the wedding of the year? Katie found that hard to believe, but she didn’t push. Instead, she asked Fatima to recommend something for lunch and settled back as she waited. Grabbing a notepad, she started to scribble down some ideas on how she might improve her confidence persona.
Art was more than just pretty pictures. It encompassed culture, emotions, and history, all rolled into one. Katie had poured her heart and soul into her studies. However, if she wanted to find a curator’s position in this city, she needed to look as if she belonged to this city. Katie was currently just a visitor. She needed to become an intricate part of Dubai.
After lunch, she exchanged phone numbers with Fatima—the woman was enthusiastically interested in being her friend, and Katie could use another connection—before she headed back to the car. On impulse, she asked the driver to pull over on a side street lined with boutiques.
Confidence started with clothing.
She spent a bigger chunk of her savings than she wanted on a few different interview pieces and a gorgeous new dress. When she got back to the car with her bags, the driver helped her load them into the trunk. “The palace has requested that you return and join them tonight at dinner.”
Katie hesitated. She’d planned on going back home to her room at Sahaar’s—but hadn’t she just lectured herself about being more involved in the city? Maybe that ought to start with her contacts with the royal family.
The palace quickly filled with people that evening after Amira decided to throw an impromptu mixer. Katie had met the gorgeous Sharif sister a handful of times and loved everything about the woman. She was smart, sexy, outspoken, and not easily cowed by anyone, least of all her brothers. Rashid and Asad clearly adored her—even if she always seemed to find amusement in irritating them. Katie had it on good authority that the sister had been instrumental in matching her brothers with Mila and Liyah.
Meddling.
“So you just woke up this morning and decided to throw a party?” Katie joked as Amira, Mila, and Liyah gently pulled her through the crowd.
“And how fortunate that you woke up this morning and decided to buy a dress! It must be fate,” Amira said with a wink. “This party is for you, my dear! Liyah and Mila commented that you haven’t had any fun since you got to Dubai, and I love throwing parties. And, let’s face it, you’re a knockout, and I desperately wanted to show you off.”
Katie snorted. “Am I guest or a piece of artwork?”
“You’re both. Obviously.” Amira grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray and handed it to her. “Come. Let me introduce you to a bunch of influential people.”
“Influential people?”
“Of course. I would never invite anyone who wasn’t influential.”
The women laughed, and Katie tried desperately to keep up. Even though Mila and Liyah were Americans, they were obviously well-loved here. They easily conversed with everyone as if they were old friends.
Somewhat to her surprise, Katie was enjoying herself immensely.
After finishing her champagne, she went in search for a tray to deposit her glass. Catching sight of a white-coated servant from the corner of her eye, she whirled toward him—and bumped into a hard body.
“Excuse me,” she said immediately, and when her gaze flew up, her heart skipped a beat. The man was tall with perfectly sculpted cheek bones, dark swept-back hair, and familiar beautiful moss green eyes.
The elusive Khalid Al Sharif. Katie had seen him at the wedding, but they hadn’t been introduced, and she hadn’t laid eyes on him since.
“No harm,” he said softly as he reached out to steady her. He plucked the glass from her hand and replaced it with a new glass when a server walked by.
“I’m Katie.” He smiled politely, and she rushed on, the words tumbling out as if beyond her control. “I’m staying with Sahaar on a work visa. I was admiring the artwork in the palace. Your brothers tell me that you are responsible for the new acquisitions. You have excellent taste.” She managed to stop herself—she hated babbling!—barely restraining a wince.
He didn’t seem to notice her sudden attack of nerves but narrowed his eyes and studied her intently. “You were also an exchange student?”
“No. I’m not part of any student program, now or in the past.” She smiled and tried for a casual tone. “I know that’s how Mila and Liyah met. I’m brand new to the city. Sahaar was recommended to me, and she graciously accepted me into her home.”
“I see.” He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “Ah,” he said. “That’s an hour.” He put the phone back in his pocket and met her curious gaze. “If you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do. Please do not tell my sister that you saw me. I’d prefer it if she didn’t get any ideas in her head.”
Katie blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
Rather than answer, Khalid turned and walked away.
“Rude, much?” she muttered after him as she wrinkled her nose. Asad and Rashid were so friendly. What had happened with the youngest brother?
“Did I just see you speaking to my brother?” Amira asked suddenly in her ear.
Katie gasped and jumped. “Are you lurking?” she demanded, and then she managed a laugh.
“It’s my party. That gives me grounds to keep an eye on things without lurking,” the exotic beauty said with a smile. “The truth is, I’m glad you met him. I wasn’t even sure if he would show up. It’s so difficult to get him to socialize, sometimes. Especially now that Asad and Rashid are married. In any case, did you two get a chance to talk about work?”
“Work? No. I tried to compliment him on the artwork in the palace, but he didn’t seem interested.”
“Khalid owns an art gallery here in Dubai, and I heard that he’s thinking of expanding.” Amira cocked her head and gave Katie a measuring glance. “I think you should submit your resume.”
Hope swelled in Katie as she gripped the glass Khalid had thrust into her hand. “Really? I didn’t even get a chance to tell him that I was looking for a museum job. In fact, we didn’t really talk much at all, except that he was interested in my connection with Mila and Liyah. He also didn’t seem to want you to know that we’d met.”
A slow smile spread over Amira’s face. “Really? In that case, I would definitely recommend that you send him your resume, but don’t mention your connection to us. Let your work speak for itself.”
“I had planned on doing just that,” Katie said with a confused smile. “Is there something else that I should know?”
“Not at all. Now, come mingle!”
Happy that Mila and Liyah had talked her into this, Katie dutifully followed Amira around and let the princess continue showing her off. Her head was spinning with possibilities.
Maybe, just maybe, this trip to Dubai will work out, after all.
3
"Too bubbly," Katie overheard the sheikh telling his assistant, a nervous girl who clearly feared him. "Not enough qualifications."
Katie caught her breath as another piece of paper fluttered. “Oh, absolutely not,” she heard him growl. It was enough to make her wish the door to the inner sanctum was securely closed instead of open a crack.
Fingers drumming the tops of her knees, Katie stole a glance toward the door leading to the stairwell close to where she sat on the gilded bench in the waiting area. She could leave. She wasn’t obligated to stay here and endure an obviously impossible personality. Sheikh or no sheikh. Connection or no connection. If the other night had been any indication, the sheikh already didn’t like her.
Suddenly, her name filtered through the crack in the door, and Katie cursed. She’d waited too long, and now it was too late to flee.
Not that Katie was the fleeing type.
"Send her in!" Khalid snapped loudly.
Imagining bass notes of doom following that statement, Kadija rose as the assistant exited the office.
"He'll see you now,” the woman said in a wavering voice.
Katie infused warm enthusiasm into her voice. “Wonderful.” She thanked the poor woman, then took a deep breath and turned to the doorway into the lion’s den. Entering the inner office, she found it unusually spartan for one belonging to a sheikh.
He eyed her, and she felt a pulse of energy flash between them, a thudding of her heart. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, and she wondered if he was going to throw her out.
“Kadija,” he muttered in a low voice. “You failed to mention your work interest when we met.”
“You didn’t exactly stick around long enough to ask.” Her voice remained pleasant as she took a seat, but she kept her chin up. She wasn’t going to let him bully or intimidate her.
His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “I suppose that’s true. You have work experience in the West."
They were dispensing with the uncomfortable pleasantries. She was relieved that he was acting professionally. “Yes, I've curated several exhibits as a part of my work study in college."
He looked her over without a word and then turned his eyes to the resume in front of him. "And you take direction well?"
"I . . . do."
"Good. There's an assistant position in the gallery."
An assistant position? She frowned. “Does it include curation?"
He sighed and placed her resume on a pile of others. "Thank you for coming. Nadira will show you the way out."
He was so abrupt, she hadn’t even had the chance to show him her portfolio. “Wait, what?”
Khalid glanced over her coldly. “I believe that you just said that you followed instructions. Nadira will show you the way out.”
Unbelievable. Another botched interview, and all because she’d had the audacity to ask him a question? Clenching her fists, she stood. “I apologize for wasting your time, Sheikh. I was under the impression that this was a professionally managed gallery. I guess we’re both disappointed.”
He looked up sharply, and she whirled around and kept her head high as she strode out. Anger simmered inside her. He knew that she was qualified. She knew that he knew, but he wasn’t willing to give her a chance because—what? Because she was a woman?
Katie was getting really tired of getting passed over by men who didn’t believe that she could do more than type at a fucking computer.
“Why the long face, darling?”
Katie looked up guiltily, to meet Sahaar’s kind, concerned look.
She was in the kitchen, digging around for something sweet to make her feel a little better about her failure of a morning. “My interview with the sheikh did not go well. In fact, it barely went at all.”
Her hostess opened a cupboard and pulled out a box of cookies. Apparently she knew Katie all too well. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he took one look at my impressive resume and offered me a job as an assistant. Apparently, he thinks I’m better suited for getting coffee and running errands than curating, and when I dared to politely question his decision, he kicked me out.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Sahaar said with a sympathetic look, extending the box to Katie. “I have to admit that I don’t know Khalid all that well. I’ve seen him at the weddings, but he rarely smiled or spoke. He seems to be the stoic and quiet type,” the older woman quirked a quizzical eyebrow, “which is a surprise, considering his brothers. Usually the youngest is more playful.”
“With that attitude, I’m not sure anyone would want to play with him,” Katie grumbled as she popped a cookie in her mouth. She rarely had a sweet tooth, but when she got upset, she needed something to make her feel a little better.
Sahaar tried to keep a stern face, but she cracked the smallest of smiles. “Now that I think about it, I don’t recall ever hearing about Khalid and a special lady. Rashid, of course, tended to dominate the headlines.”
“Really?” Eagerly, Katie leaned on the counter and rested on her elbows. “And Mila put up with that?”
“Well now, you’d have to ask Mila for the whole story. I have a feeling she left out some of the more sordid and fun parts, but from the way that man looks at her, I would wager Rashid hasn’t even thought of another woman since he and Mila were thrown together. But before that, Rashid was quite the womanizer. Asad was the quiet and stern type—and Khalid hides from the media. I remember that there was some grumbling a few years ago when he showed more interest in painting than in business, but I think Rashid did something scandalous, and that was the last that I heard of Khalid.”
Katie arched her eyebrows. “Khalid paints? I just assumed he ran the gallery.” She couldn’t imagine the man having enough imagination to be creative.
“He used to. I don’t know if he still does.”
Just then, Katie’s cellphone rang. She took another bite of her cookie and crossed the colorful tiled floor of the kitchen. Digging around in her purse, she pulled the phone out and frowned. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?”
“Katie? This is Fatima, from the lounge.”
“Oh!” Katie leaned against the dining table. “Hi!”
“I was calling to see if you wanted to go to lunch in about an hour
? I’m sorry that it’s such short notice, but I unexpectedly have the afternoon off.”
Since Katie didn’t have anything else lined up for the day, she agreed. After hanging up, she popped the rest of her cookie in her mouth. “If you’ll excuse me, Sahaar, I’m off to meet a friend for lunch and forget all about Sheikh Khalid and his ridiculously dry personality for a few hours.” As an afterthought, she snagged another cookie and ignored the way her host mother shook her head and sighed.
She met Fatima at a small sandwich shop in the marketplace. The sun was high in the sky and beat down wrathfully on her skin, but Fatima insisted on eating outside. “You need to thicken up that American skin of yours,” she said with a side glance. “You may have our complexion, but you’re far too delicate.”
Katie fanned herself with the menu and forced a smile. “I appreciate you reaching out to me. I haven’t really met anyone, other than Liyah and Mila. They’re great, though, don’t get me wrong. They’re just a little too love-drunk sometimes.”
“Yes. They are living the fairy tale, aren’t they?” Fatima pressed her lips together in a tight line. “They were my friends as well, but if you ask me, they were never able to fulfill their dreams. Falling for rich men can do that to a woman.”
Narrowing her eyes, Katie cocked her head. Fatima certainly didn’t sound like a friend. “I don’t know about that. Liyah is living her dream, surrounded by books and ancient manuscripts, and Mila has been instrumental in helping Rashid with his business. They really do have it all. Men who love, respect, and support them.”
“Yeah, sure.” Fatima fiddled with the clasp of her purse and then looked up and flashed a bright smile. “You know, those brothers were bachelors for years, and then they got snapped up by two Americans. Lucky them, huh? Two brothers down, and one to go.”