by Holly Rayner
She was standing in front of the door to his office well before she felt ready. But she needed to get back to the set—if she wasn't about to be fired, anyway. She didn't have time to stand around worrying. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and pushed it open.
The office was empty. She made a distressed noise, looking around like he might be hiding in a corner. Where was he?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and cold dread gathered in a clammy sweat on the back of her neck. She took out her phone, squinting past the broken glass.
We need to talk about this, the text from Tehar read. Will you have dinner with me this evening?
Panic opened up like a yawning chasm in her chest and swallowed her up.
Sure! she texted back. Is eight good for you?
When he confirmed it, she stumbled numbly back out of the office and onto the set, falling into her seat behind the news desk. The rest of the day passed in a wide-eyed blur as she struggled to remain calm and pay attention to what was going on around her instead of the wild panic flailing like a trapped bird in her chest.
As much as she wanted to tell herself that, logically, this had been a mistake and she couldn't possibly be fired for it, the strangeness of Sheikh Tehar's dinner invitation was too pronounced to ignore. She'd never even spoken with the man outside of work. Whatever was going on, he'd clearly taken it as more than just a joke or a mistake. As much as she wanted to focus on her work when this could possibly be her last day, she couldn't stop thinking about the text and how she was going to explain it.
The most humiliating thing was that she'd embarrassed herself in front of the Sheikh specifically after he'd been so kind to her yesterday. If she'd sent something so mortifying to Mitchell or one of the producers, it would have been terrible, and she'd probably still be fired, but to do something so mortifying with Tehar was nearly unbearable.
Work couldn't end soon enough.
As soon as the cameras were off, she rushed to finish up and all but fled the studio, leaving everyone perplexed as to what had happened to her. At home, she scrambled to change, blind panic leaving her confused about where to even find her clothing. She was sitting on her bed in a daze when Tessa knocked on the door.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked as she let herself in. "You haven't answered your phone all afternoon."
"Broke it," Kathy replied, holding out the shattered device. She'd been holding it absentmindedly since work had finished, trying to figure out what to do. She barely looked at Tessa, her expression as blank with panic as her thoughts.
"Whoa, what's wrong?" Tessa sat down next to Kathy, putting the phone aside when she saw how obviously distraught the other woman was. "You can't be that upset about a broken phone."
Kathy shook her head. "Look at the messages."
Tessa frowned but obediently picked up the phone to scroll through Kathy's recent messages. She struggled at first trying to see through the cracks, but Kathy saw her eyes widen as she figured it out.
"Oh my God," she muttered, putting a hand over her mouth. Then she snickered.
"This isn't funny, Tess!" Kathy said, offended. "He wants to see me tonight! I'm going to lose my job!"
"You're not going to lose your job," Tessa reassured her, still giggling. "There's no way he'd fire you over something so silly. It was just a stupid accident."
"You don't know that!" Kathy said, frustrated. "Sheikh Tehar's image is spotless. He has zero tolerance for this kind of thing, especially right now when the company is still recovering from a scandal!"
"It's fine," Tessa insisted, reaching out to take Kathy by her trembling shoulders. "It's not like you CC'd the press. It was a silly mistake."
"Then why does he want to meet me in an hour?" Kathy demanded.
"I don't know." Tessa rolled her eyes. "Maybe he wants details on who you were actually trying to proposition. Maybe he just thinks you're cute."
"Unlikely."
"I know you have a crush on him," Tessa pointed out. "This is a perfect opportunity to see if he feels the same."
"He doesn't."
"Well, now you can know for sure. Come on, I'll help you get dressed."
Chapter Five
Tessa's encouragement, despite Kathy's very real fears, did help her calm down. Tessa helped her pick out a black dress, leaning more towards professional than flirtatious on Kathy's insistence. As much as Tessa (and secretly Kathy as well) might have wanted this to be a date, there was a much more significant possibility that it was work-related. And if she was about to be reprimanded for sending inappropriate texts at work, it was probably best not to show up in something with a neckline deeper than its hem.
Still, she applied her makeup carefully and wore her best earrings in the secret hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't what she thought it was.
"You look great," Tessa said as Kathy gave herself one last critical look-over in the mirror. "If he didn't mean this as a date before, he'll change his mind as soon as he sees you."
"As long as he doesn't fire me, I don't care what happens," Kathy said, trying to convince herself as much as Tessa.
"Text me and let me know how it goes," Tessa demanded as Kathy headed out the door. "And make sure you send it to the right person this time!"
Kathy waved goodbye to her friend and headed out to wait for the taxi. She wasn’t sure how the evening was going to go and worried she might need to drown her sorrows in a glass of wine or three if she did end up being fired.
She'd agreed to meet Tehar at the restaurant, but she hadn't recognized the name of the place and she was surprised to find the directions she looked up would be taking her downtown, right to the coast. The restaurant, it turned out, was attached to a five-star luxury hotel. It was a beautiful modern building, the unusually-shaped front paneled in what looked like oxidized copper, which lit up golden and green in the early evening lights.
Somewhat unsure of herself, Kathy felt her confidence drop lower as the cab approached the restaurant, seeing the men in suit jackets and women in fine gowns seated within. She was glad she'd decided to dress up, but she still felt outclassed. She hadn't been expecting something this fancy for what was, in her estimation, most likely a firing.
Sheikh Tehar was waiting for her out front and smiled when he saw her, much more warmly than she'd expected.
"Sorry, I hope I didn't keep you waiting," Kathy said as she got out of the taxi, tipping the driver quickly, and approaching him. He was wearing a clean, loose white suit which further enhanced his dark features. He made it look incredible.
"You're right on time," he assured her. "And you look stunning. I hope you don't mind eating here. It's a favorite of mine."
"It looks a bit out of my price range," Kathy admitted, a little embarrassed.
"Oh, don't be silly, I'm paying of course," Tehar said at once. "You're here on my insistence after all. Shall we go in?"
He offered her his arm, gesturing to the doors with the other, and Kathy accepted, suddenly unsure what to expect. Inside, he didn't give anyone his name but simply nodded to the maître d’, who seemed to recognize him on sight and guided them at once to an open table in a private corner of the balcony, sheltered by a screen of ornately inscribed steel and a host of fragrant green decorative plants.
Once seated, they were hidden entirely from the rest of the restaurant, left alone with the incredible view of the bay and the Miami skyline. Kathy didn't think she'd ever eaten anywhere so beautiful.
"The Grand tasting, please," Tehar ordered as they sat. "Wine pairings included. I called ahead to the kitchen about my guest's dietary restrictions. Make certain they know this is the Sheikh's table and nothing is to come in contact with seafood."
The maître d’ murmured his polite assurances that it would be done and vanished off to the kitchens.
"I eat here often," Tehar said, settling into his seat and unfolding his napkin. "You have nothing to worry about. The chef is a master at what she does. Nothing gets past her."
> "I doubt I'd have the courage to say anything if it did," Kathy replied, a bit intimidated. "This place is gorgeous. Way out of my league."
"Nonsense," Tehar declared with implacable certainty. "A woman like you makes any environment conform to her. You look perfectly at home here, as you would anywhere."
It was probably the most thoughtful and specific compliment Kathy had ever received from a man, and he'd delivered it so offhandedly he might as well have been commenting on the weather. Kathy found herself uncharacteristically flustered. This was not going at all how she'd expected it to.
The first course of what, it turned out, was an eight-course service, arrived quickly. The waiter called it a Salad of Holland. It was white asparagus touched with a surprisingly sweet crème fraîche and decorated with slivers of orange zest and tiny sprigs of basil. It was beautiful to look at, if rather confusing to Kathy's inexperienced palate to taste. A moment later, the sommelier arrived with a young Grüner Veltliner which was more to her liking. The plate itself was only a few bites, and she sipped her wine as she waited for the next one.
"So, you're probably wondering why I asked you here tonight," Tehar said over his own wine.
"I was wondering how to bring it up," Kathy confessed. "I assume it's about the text?"
Tehar nodded, and Kathy felt her face redden and she fought the urge to drain her wine glass. She sat back in her chair, trying to sink into herself.
"I wanted to tell you I accept your proposal."
Kathy nearly choked on her drink.
"Pardon me?" she asked, sputtering. She couldn't have heard him right.
"I would be happy to father a child with you," Tehar said, cool and formal as ever.
Kathy knew on some level that she must have looked like a slack-jawed idiot, mouth open and face blistering with embarrassment.
"Sir, that was," she stammered, searching for an explanation. "That was an accident. I was trying to text my friend. I would never—"
He held up a hand to stop her and her mouth shut instantly.
"I am not an idiot, Miss Burgess," he said.
"Please, call me Kathy," she interrupted before she could stop herself.
"Kathy," Tehar corrected himself graciously. "I am aware the text was not meant for me. But I empathize with the sentiment regardless. Are you aware of where I come from?"
Kathy took a moment to gather herself, confused.
"Um, Abu Sadah, right?" Kathy shrugged, not knowing much more than that. It had seemed wrong to pry into his private life when he seemed to go to such an effort to keep it separate from his work. "You're part of the royal family?"
"I am," Tehar confirmed. "Not that unusual in and of itself. The ruling family is quite large. But I am the nephew of the ruling sheikh which means, in addition to a great deal more money and responsibility than the more tertiary members of the family, there is a possibility, however distant, that I might one day become sheikh. It is highly unlikely, but I have been groomed for the position regardless. And part of that grooming requires me to have an heir for my titles and properties."
"Oh," Kathy said, beginning to understand. "But you're young. Surely there must be someone…"
Tehar smiled.
"I may not look it," he replied. "But I am nearing forty. My parents have grown very impatient for me to finally ensure their posterity. All I have ever had time for is my work, and I find it unlikely that will ever change. I don't have the time or inclination to go searching for a relationship."
"I feel the same," Kathy said, shocked by the sudden empathy she felt with the Sheikh. "My father's will says I have to have a child before the end of the year or my inheritance will be claimed by the bank, including the house that's been in my family for generations. I just want to focus on my work; that's all I've ever wanted. But I don't want to have a baby with just anyone. I just want there to be—"
"A connection," Tehar interrupted, leaning towards her. "I don't need her to be the love of my life, but the mother of my child cannot be a stranger to me."
"Exactly." Kathy realized she was leaning towards him as well, staring into his dark eyes and seeing him stare back at her, neither of them with a hint of self-consciousness, caught up in the moment of sudden understanding.
The waiter cleared his throat and they both sat back, caught off guard as he arrived with the second course, sweet slices of caramelized pork belly accompanied by a robust pinot noir. The thin slices of crispy, sticky pork were so good Kathy felt dizzy, mourning that there was only a few bites worth. It was almost enough to make her forget the strange situation she was in. For a few moments, they were both entirely focused on their food. Then it was gone, and in the breathing room between one course and the next, they studied each other across the table.
"You'd really be all right with me, you know, providing your heir?" Kathy asked.
"Of course," Tehar said without hesitation. "We may not have had much personal interaction, but you've worked for me for years. I know you're intelligent, responsible, and beautiful. You're healthy, as far as I'm aware. And most importantly, I know you. I know you're professional, logical. I feel confident we could continue to work together and associate with one another with minimum difficulty. You are, if I may be so blunt, ideal."
It was very unexpected praise.
"What about me?" Tehar asked. "Do I meet your standards? It seems like you've been searching for a while, so I assume they are rigorous."
Kathy considered it for a moment.
"To be honest, they aren't that high," she said. "But guys kept failing to reach them anyway. I just wanted someone nice with a stable income who I could get along with. And preferably no inheritable health conditions."
"Well, I know I check at least two of those boxes," Tehar said with a small chuckle. "It's up to you whether I'm nice enough to get along with."
"I think you sweep all four pretty easily." Kathy laughed, still slightly, delightfully baffled by how this was all turning out.
"Then you'd be willing to try it?" Tehar asked, raising an eyebrow. "Having a child with me?"
Kathy blinked and sat back, considering it. The proposal had come so out of the blue. She was still processing it.
"I need to think about it," she said.
"Take your time," Tehar assured her. "I hardly expected an answer tonight. If you don't mind, we could talk details, however."
"Of course," Kathy nodded, still distracted. "Whatever you need to know."
"I assume you're planning to use in-vitro fertilization?" Tehar asked.
"Yeah," Kathy confirmed. "Unless I unexpectedly really hit it off with someone, IVF seems like the least complicated way of doing things. No offense, but if we end up doing this together that would be my preference."
"No offense taken," Tehar assured her. "I agree; it minimizes complications. I would prefer to keep this as businesslike as possible."
"That's how I feel too," Kathy said with a small smile, a little amazed at how much his feelings seemed to mirror her own.
"Does your father's will stipulate that you have to raise the child?" Tehar asked. "If we do this as separate entities, we’ll need to agree on custody."
"Legally speaking," Kathy replied, "the will doesn't demand anything but that I have the baby. Technically, I could give it up and still inherit. But I don't want to. I want to be a part of this child's life. I can't just bring a baby into the world for the sake of money."
"Very understandable." Tehar nodded, but she thought he seemed a little disappointed. "I would have liked to take sole custody and have the child raised in Abu Sadah by my family there, but I respect your desire to be involved."
"To be honest though," Kathy confessed, "I don't really have the time or resources to raise a child on my own. Maybe we could split custody? Two weeks in Abu Sadah, two weeks with me?"
"That sounds plausible," Tehar agreed. "We can work out the specific details later. Do you have a preference for gender?"
"Not really." Kathy shrugged
. "I guess I've always imagined it being a girl."
"My family, for reasons of tradition, would prefer a boy," Tehar said with a look of mild embarrassment. "I am not particularly swayed either way."
"If neither of us really cares and it would make things easier with your family, since we're doing IVF anyway, I wouldn't mind trying for a boy," Kathy said.
"It's something to consider," Tehar said with a nod.
The waiter arrived with the next course, interrupting their conversation again. It was a rich moulard duck fois gras accompanied by a dry Sauternes. It was delicious, and Kathy was beginning to understand and appreciate the small amounts. The food was decadent and almost overwhelming. She wasn't sure she could handle eight plates of this in any more than the current portions. They were silent for a moment, relishing the food.
"I had no idea fois gras was so good," Kathy said with an indulgent little moan. "I've only ever heard awful things about it."
"I know how you feel," Tehar said with a chuckle. "But don't worry. I checked with the kitchen when I first began eating here. The livers are ethically farmed. The ducks and geese are free to roam, and there's no force feeding at all."
"It seems like that would be really difficult to do and remain profitable," Kathy said thoughtfully.
"That is why it's so expensive," Tehar replied, raising his glass.
Kathy suddenly wondered just how much the meal cost and was suddenly more relieved she wasn't expected to pay.
"Exactly how much are you paying for this?" she asked. "If it isn't too rude to ask."
"About three hundred per person," Tehar replied casually, sipping his wine. Kathy choked on her fois gras.
"How—" she sputtered. "I have to help pay for this. There's no way I could let you—"
"Don't be ridiculous," Tehar countered her at once. "I just finished telling you I'm part of the royal family, even aside from my personal business ventures. You may recall I am a sheikh, Miss Burgess. I can more than afford this."