by Sue Knott
Faris appeared within minutes. I was surprised it was him. Maybe Amir arranged for him to lurk around the hotel waiting to ferry me around? I asked Faris to just drive around. I explained that I had been followed by a man with some sort of criminal intent and that I needed to be sure he wasn’t somehow still on my tail.
Faris suggested we take a ride out to Red Rock Canyon. He thought I’d enjoy the scenery and it would be very easy to determine if we were being followed. That sounded good to me. While I didn’t think the murderer/rapist would be bold enough to follow me, if I were wrong…and the guy had something to do with the Glyphs…who knows what lengths he might go to track me down.
I could see what Faris meant as we drove out of Vegas. Soon we were on a solitary highway winding through the desert. You could see the road for miles. There was only one other car out there. Faris let it pass. There was an entire family inside, complete with kids. And I did enjoy Red Rock. It was beautiful. A refreshing counterpoint to the amazing excess that was Vegas.
Of course, I noticed the terrain was mostly hills and gullies. The kind of place that might be prone to a flash flood in a sudden downpour? Funny how I could be paranoid about that, but walking around this morning – where apparently there were more immediate dangers present – I hadn’t worried at all.
Chapter 20
When we arrived back at the Venetian, Amir was pacing frantically outside. It was too early for our meeting. Faris must have let Amir know of my little episode. He had gotten out of the car with me at Red Rock, but insisted on standing guard near the parking lot rather than joining me…giving him plenty of time to call. Amir looked relieved to see us pull up. He got me out of the car and waved Faris on.
“Are you alright? What happened? Tell me everything.”
I was rather touched by the sincerity of his concern. I told him the whole story, exactly as it happened.
“I don’t think this guy had anything to do with our business. When he was walking toward me, I could feel him making the decision to target me right there on the spot.” I didn’t bother to mention that I thought my boobs might have had something to do with it. Amir could probably draw that conclusion himself.
“Why did you not call the police? You could have done so without compromising our…privacy.”
“I don’t like to carry my phone all the time.”
Amir shook his head in frustration. “Will you promise me that from now on you will always carry your phone? You don’t have to turn it on. Just have it with you.”
“I’m way ahead of you. I resolved to do that the minute I saw that guy turn around. In fact, I’ve resolved to get a camera phone. If I had a picture of the guy I could send it to the police.”
“No. It would not be worth the risk for you to take the picture.” He squeezed my hand and looked deep into my eyes. “But, I see from your eyes you will still get the camera phone regardless of my protests?”
“You read eyes well.”
“And you are too stubborn for your own good.”
“I’m a very cautious person. But when the stakes are high, you sometimes have to take calculated risks. Just like we’re doing with the Glyphs.”
With that, Amir became even more serious. He asked if I was too shaky to take a walk. Surprisingly, I wasn’t at all shaky. I guess even though I had been at risk, I had not actually been in danger. I was in enough control of the situation that I had remained in safe, public places and out of “grabbing reach” of the creep. I’m sure I’d be in a whole different emotional state had that not been the case.
Amir summoned Faris and we went back to the garden we met at the night before. It was even more spectacular in the daylight. Amir held my hand as we walked. It didn’t feel like the hand holding was for show. It also didn’t feel like it was supposed to be romantic. I was guessing it was a cultural thing. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Amir took every business associates’ hands into his when he was talking about something important. But, I could be wrong.
I had a suspicion that Amir liked to talk about the most sensitive aspects of the Glyphs in this garden for a reason. I guessed that he felt it was secure. No eavesdroppers or listening devices. Though, it could be that he liked the fresh air and exercise. I sure did. (It was going to be tough to have to face real winter weather after leaving Vegas.)
The plan that Amir had come up with blew me out of the water. I literally had to sit down. Stunned was too soft a term for my reaction. Amir paced, looking worried, while I tried to collect myself. I wondered if he realized that he had virtually dropped a bomb on me, exploding my world into little pieces.
After a few minutes my head stopped spinning enough for me to walk. Now it was I who took Amir’s hand in mine.
“This is an awful lot to absorb. I…I’m not sure what to think. Can I take some time to think this over?”
“Only if you promise to let me talk you out of saying ‘no’…if that’s what you decide.”
“I promise to let you argue your case. But, that’s as far as I’ll go.”
“Fair enough.”
We walked now in silence. I had too many thoughts swimming around in my head. Amir had offered to hire me to work on Glyphs full time. He would create a false identity and offshore accounts where he’d send my starting salary of $150,000. I’d have an unlimited expense account. I could work from home, or he would set me up with office space wherever I’d like. He would bankroll any advertising or promotion efforts I deemed necessary. And he wanted me to try to reach an international audience.
I finally had my head wrapped around this new reality enough to start asking questions.
“Amir…about security?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think that guy following me today had anything to do with the Glyphs, do you?”
He shook his head. “No. You have been very careful. I tried to find your identity before I contacted you. And with all my many resources, I could not. More importantly, I very much trust your instincts.”
“I believe the Glyphs have something to do with thwarting climate change. Do you believe that as well?”
“Yes. I have had images of the Glyphs in my head since I was a small child. I have always associated them with my uneasiness regarding the weather. Like you, I’ve worried over climate change for as long as I can remember. Long before I ever heard the terms, ‘global warming’ or ‘climate change.’ Imagine it. A three year old boy who has never seen or heard of snow having nightmares about cities buried in it.”
“That’s why I am so anxious to uncover the meaning of the formula. We are losing ice shelves right and left. Farmlands are being baked into uselessness. Every day without a solution means lives lost.”
“What do you propose we do with the Glyphs once we fill in the blanks?”
“In any given year there are several international conferences in various scientific fields. I can arrange for you – or someone else, if you prefer – to present the findings at one of these conferences. In this way, the entire world receives the results at the same time. As much as possible, that would remove egos, politics, and greed from the process. It would be my hope that scientists would either understand the Glyphs formula or be motivated to study it.”
I felt Amir was telling me the truth. First, because I could see the sincerity in his eyes. And second, because I had the suspicion that a sort of magnanimous obsession came as part of the package with the vision.
I thought Amir’s plan was both brilliant and noble. Still, it didn’t make sense to me that his security measures were in such uber-drive.
“I’ve been security conscious because I have no idea what threats could be out there. I assume some other individuals or governments could be working on the project, too, and might not want anyone else on board. Are you worried specifically about any other potential dangers?”
“Because I believe this formula is the key to staving climate change…I believe it is most likely energy related. Perhaps it will unlock the pow
er in an atom…or in a drop of salt water. Who can know?”
“But, unless it unlocks power from sand, such a formula would virtually put my country out of business. Oil is all we have. Any wealth…any power that we have… all flows from oil.”
“If anyone were to realize I was working on a project which might make the need for oil obsolete, my government – or possibly even my family –might have me killed.”
I stared at Amir in shock for a few seconds and then I did something I rarely ever do. I burst into tears.
Chapter 21
Amir deposited me back at the Venetian pretty quickly. He obviously wasn’t used to dealing with sobbing women. I hoped that he wouldn’t think I was an emotional basket case. After being stalked and then finding out someone was putting their life in my hands…all before lunchtime, I hoped Amir would realize a little meltdown wasn’t totally out of order.
Back at the room (I still feel silly calling this mansion a room), I blasted some music and got on the treadmill. (It wasn’t as easy as it sounds. It was some sort of high definition satellite radio with a million buttons. I had to have Jeeves show me how to work it.)
Usually I hate treadmills. I’d much rather walk outside. But, I wanted to work up a sweat to calm my nerves and the street was getting a little crowded for that kind of pace. Plus, I didn’t want to be distracted by the sights or by having to keep an eye out for murderers.
The exercise did me good. It cleared my head. After my shower, my skin felt fresh and healthy. And I’d made my decision. I was not going to accept Amir’s offer. Getting him killed was definitely something I didn’t want to have to worry about.
Amir had asked if I’d mind going out for a formal dinner. I’m not normally one to get all dolled up, but since it was probably the only chance in my life to wear anything close to the evening gowns Cala picked out, I agreed. Amir was picking me up at six – early enough that I could skip lunch. That meant I could dive into my gourmet dinner without feeling too guilty. The decision to turn Amir down lifted a weight off my shoulders. Tonight I was going to enjoy myself.
Actually wearing one of the gowns was a completely different story from imagining wearing it. There was so little fabric! Only the skimpiest bra would fit under. That meant I had to worry about falling out of the bra as well as the dress. I was glad there was a large, gorgeous shall to mute the boob factor. Since I had the makeup case and the time, I tarted up the face a bit. And I had the salon send a stylist to do my hair. It was remarkably easy to splurge knowing that doing so was really a necessary part of the ruse. How often do you get that kind of excuse to be decadent?
Amir was impressed when he picked me up. He lingered over my hand when he kissed it.
“You look amazing…as always.”
He looked pretty special in his tuxedo as well. I felt like we just stepped into a James Bond movie. Then I realized we were too close to that reality for my comfort.
As Faris held the limo door open for me Amir asked him:
“Tell me, Faris. How am I to remain inconspicuous when I am accompanied by the most dazzling jewel in the state?”
“I would not worry, Mr. Kezal. With Ms. Hawn-Imus at your side, no one will be looking at you.”
Amir really didn’t have to worry about appearing conspicuous. We arrived at a private entrance, took a private elevator, and sat at a private table in a private room with a spectacular view of the Vegas strip.
The host offered to take my wrap, but I waved him off. It was all I had to keep me from being chilly. I noticed Amir whispering an aside to the maître d′ and felt the heat turn up enough that there was no chance of my being cold. Was Amir concerned about my comfort – or hoping to get a better view of my cleavage? He had not been one to ogle, but my suspicions of men’s intentions were deeply ingrained.
“Are we to speak cryptically or casually here?” I had no idea how far to take caution.
“Ahhh – cryptic is the preferable always, everywhere. It adds to the intrigue, does it not?”
“I find you quite intriguing on your own, Mr. Kezal.”
“And I you, Ms. Hawn-Imus.”
“How am I registered at my hotel?”
“As the guest of Mr. Kezal. Does that suit you?”
“Yes. And what does your staff know of my name?”
“After they met you, they learned your first name was Rachel – but they may still think of you as Anne. Quite frankly, I presume they are quite confused and will choose to call you Ms. Hawn-Imus.”
The wine steward came to the table to take my order. I declined. He didn’t bother to ask Amir.
“They know you well here.”
“In this town, business knows everyone well who has deep pockets.”
“And you don’t drink for religious reasons?”
“In a way. I am not what you would consider a practicing Muslim. I believe religion once existed to bring people together and make us better. But, religion – all religion – has too long been in the hands of men. Powerful men. And nothing gets mucked up worse than something in the hands of powerful men.”
Amir stared in contemplation at the candle on the table. “Today, religions are riddled with foolish rules that I do not believe were intended by Allah…God. Today, religions drive people apart, which I also do not believe is intended by…God. I believe in the power of prayer. I believe in leading an honest and noble life. But the rest…not so much. I do not drink mainly because Arabs in America are highly scrutinized. I do my best to put forth an exemplary representation for the sake of my countrymen.”
Amir pulled himself out of his introspection and looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. “And you do not drink because…?”
“I like to hang onto whatever brain cells I have for as long as I can.”
“A wise choice.”
“I’ve made another choice today, too.”
Amir expectantly raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve decided to decline your most generous offer.”
“On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that I cannot be responsible for…your life.”
“That should not be your concern.”
“But it is.”
“If you will not accept my offer, every additional day you fail in your mission, you are responsible perhaps for the lives of many.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. I looked into Amir’s eyes. I could see he was enjoying the negotiation. He believed he would win.
“Damn, you’re good.”
“I am…prepared.”
“I’m not prepared. Not for the responsibility.”
“There are no guarantees…but, I sincerely believe you yourself will never be at risk.”
“That isn’t the issue.”
Amir sighed. “If you do not accept my offer, I will have to find someone else. In seeking that person…I am…vulnerable. In working with that person – a person who I believe will never perform as well as you – I am vulnerable. So, you see, you will be responsible for more if you decline than if you accept.”
“You are infuriating.”
“It is only the truth. I am going to do this with or without you.”
At that precise moment, U2’s “With or Without You” began playing.
“Did you plan this?”
“I assure you, I did not.”
“Is the table bugged?”
“I think, more likely, this is kismet. And kismet demands that we celebrate it. May I have this dance?”
I mumbled a protest as to my lack of dancing skills, but Amir was already gently pulling me out of my seat. He held me just a millimeter from too close. Once I settled into the rhythm of his dancing (or as close as I could come to it), Amir moved his hand up from my waist ever so slightly – so that it touched my bare back. The feel of that warm, soft hand, skin-to-skin against my back, took my breath away.
He seemed to sense my reaction. He pulled me even closer, brushed my hair away from my face and whispered into my ear.
Chapter 22
I agreed to Amir’s working arrangement and the rest of the evening was a blast. Dinner was fabulous. Amir tried to teach me how to dance some much fancier steps. He took me to a private terrace overlooking the Bellagio fountains for dessert. (Apparently nothing that went on between Jeeves and me was private.) Faris drove us the entire length of the strip with Amir providing a running commentary on whatever insider stories he was privy to.
Still, we arrived back at the Venetian before eleven. I wondered if there might be an agenda behind the timing…arriving home early enough that it seemed silly not to invite Amir in?
“Do you want me to come in, or are you just being polite?”
“I want you to come in.”
“Are you sure?”
Now I was confused. Was Amir trying to get me to beg for his company for Faris’s sake? Or did Amir think inviting him in was tantamount to an invitation to sex? Either way, I couldn’t let the ambiguity linger.
“Amir, I’m not inviting you in to make love. I’m inviting you in to keep me company. There’s nothing I’d rather do than spend time with you. I care for you very much. But, if you get too fresh, I will have Jeeves throw your sorry butt out the door.”
Amir’s face at that moment was priceless: A combination of surprise (or was it shock?), amusement, admiration, horror – and a big dose of dumbfounded. (I’d never seen dumbfounded before. I’d always wondered what it was. I think it must be one of those ‘you’ll know it when you see it’ things.) I thought I heard some sort of choking sound coming from the driver’s seat.
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?”
“I’m sorry. I guess you would look like a cad if you refuse. But, I think all men are cads, so my opinion of you would not be affected if you decline the invitation.”