by Holly Rayner
Kathy kept busy all weekend, comparing doctors and making plans. It was tedious work, but this kind of research was what she excelled at. It was what made her a good journalist. She was never afraid to slog through the raw information, as much of it and as long as it took to parse things. She wasn't the type to let people hand her opinions or to just report whatever sounded most exciting.
She wanted—no, needed—to know what she was talking about, comprehensively and in context. Her dad had drilled that into her. You could have quizzed him about any article he'd ever written, and he'd be able to give you the facts of the situation down to the minutest detail. More importantly, he could then bring those details together into a perspective that made sense, and Kathy prided herself on doing the same.
"The headline, the simplified bit that draws people in, is important," he used to say. "But if you don't have substance underneath, if you have no truth to impart or at least a perspective you can open people's eyes to, then you're not just wasting time, you're actively misleading people. Fear-based media that riles people up just to make money, with nothing to back it up and nowhere to direct all that emotion, it's the cancer that's eating this country."
He'd been fond of the 'cancer of society' metaphors before his diagnosis.
It was either very late Sunday night or very early Monday morning, and Kathy was still gathering data and feeling like she hadn't made any progress. Perhaps because she was too tired to think better of it, she picked up her phone and texted Tehar.
Are you busy? I'm still looking at doctors and I could use a second opinion, she wrote.
She went back to assembling her options in a spreadsheet and had almost forgotten she'd texted him at all until, about fifteen minutes later, her phone buzzed.
Shouldn't you be in bed? it said. It must be four a.m. there.
Sorry, she texted back quickly and almost left it at that. After a moment, she kept typing. I have no idea what time it is where you are.
He replied quickly this time, almost as soon as she hit send. I'm having lunch in Abu Sadah. Why are you up so late?
I don't like to stop until I'm done, she replied. I probably won't have time during the week, so I wanted to get this part taken care of.
This time there was a small pause before he messaged her again.
I'd be happy to take a look.
Great. I'll link you to the spreadsheet.
Spreadsheet?
She sent him the collated data, and another fifteen or twenty minutes passed. She made a cup of tea to hopefully bring her down from the several-coffee-cups-deep caffeine high she was currently riding.
Finally, her phone buzzed again.
Of the local doctors, options B and C seem to be equally qualified, but C's reviews seem more trustworthy to me, he’d written.
That's what I thought, Kathy agreed. But C is a lot pricier.
Price is not a concern. I would meet with them all in person, but I'm leaning towards C, Tehar texted back. However, if you're willing to travel for the procedure, I know a doctor in Europe whose qualifications are more extensive than any of the local options. I have met him before and know him to be reliable and discrete.
I couldn't ask you to fly me to Europe, Kathy replied, frowning. And the doctor is probably way out of my price range as well.
As I said, the price is not a concern, Tehar texted back at once. If it makes it easier, do not think of it as me doing a favor for you. I simply want my child to have the best possible care.
Kathy considered it for a moment, her pride wanting her to fight it but logic telling her a better doctor she didn't need to pay for was clearly the better option.
I'll add it to the spreadsheet, she said. Then, too tired to stop herself, she kept typing. So, what are you doing in Abu Sadah?
There was a long pause before he wrote back.
Do you remember the cousin I told you about, Shadaf? The one who was always ill?
Yes, your best friend.
Well, he's a grown man now, but he's still always ill. An immune deficiency disorder. He's been managing it well for years, but he collapsed last Friday. I wanted to be here. In case this was the time he didn't recover.
Kathy was stunned for a moment, feeling guilty for how she'd resented his leaving.
I'm so sorry, she wrote. How is he?
There's nothing to be sorry for, he replied. We have all been preparing for this most of Shadaf's life. Every extra day we have with him is a gift. He hasn't woken yet, but the doctors say the worst danger has passed.
Kathy breathed a sigh of relief and put her tea down. She didn't know Shadaf, but she didn't want Tehar to lose his oldest friend.
I'm glad to hear that, she wrote. Hopefully he’ll be all right.
Hopefully, he replied, but she could feel all the gathered doubts, the many other terrible possibilities, lurking behind that word. How has your weekend been?
Kathy smiled, pleased by his interest.
Mostly I've just been working on this, she admitted. Had a great little run-in with Mitchell right after you left, and now he thinks I might be looking for another job so that's going to be a joy to deal with.
Do you want me to talk to him for you?
No, don't bother, she wrote quickly. She told him, in brief, about her tentative plan to move back to Colorado to live in the family home.
It sounds like a good plan, Tehar agreed. I've been to Denver on business. The mountains are beautiful. And I have business connections there that can make certain you're taken care of.
That makes me sound like a mob wife.
In many ways, being connected to a royal family is not so different.
Careful, you'll scare me off.
Wait till I tell you about the family reunions. Teta Padme's Tabulleh, now that's something scary.
She was still typing a reply when another message arrived.
Wait, this is silly, let me just call you.
Kathy felt an unexpected delight that he was enjoying their conversation so much. Surprised and pleased, she waited, and a moment later the phone rang.
"I just remembered as I dialed," he said as she picked up the phone, his voice rich and warm on the other side, "that it is nearly five in the morning where you are. You should go to bed."
Kathy was tempted to argue, but her head felt like it was full of lead, and her eyes itched like she'd rolled face first through a sandbox. She turned off her computer's monitor and staggered to her feet.
"Yeah, you're probably right," she said, stumbling into her room. "It's nice to hear your voice, though."
Being tired made her distressingly honest. There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. She could hear birds, their cries exotic, familiar only from movies set in tropical locales.
"It's nice to hear your voice as well," he said with surprising gentleness. "Good night, Miss Burgess."
She fell into her bed with a sigh, too tired to correct him.
"Good night, Tehar," she said instead, and was asleep before she could even end the call.
Chapter Seven
She called him again two nights later, earlier in the evening this time. Ostensibly, it was to talk about doctors again. She'd visited their two top options and wanted to share her progress and get his feedback. But really, she just wanted to talk to him. They traded updates on work and Shadaf's health and then just talked about whatever came to mind. It was, Kathy found, deceptively easy to talk to him. She could easily lose hours to a conversation with the Sheikh.
The next night he called her, and the nightly call became an easy habit for which Kathy was incredibly grateful. The week might have been unbearable otherwise. Mitchell was, predictably, making work a nightmare. Tessa had a deadline coming up and couldn't be coaxed away from her computer for anything less than the promise of non-microwaved food. And the stress and tedium of trying to get everything prepared for IVF was getting to her. She'd spent most of the week talking to her insurance and setting up doctor's appointments for th
e required checkups and screenings and fertility work.
It was exhausting. And to top it all off, Valentine's Day was approaching.
Valentine's Day had never really bothered Kathy before. This was hardly the first time she'd celebrated Singles Awareness Day with Tessa instead. But this year it felt a little crueler watching everyone pair off and fawn over each other when she was alone, preparing to start a family.
It left her feeling a little sullen, bitter at society's fixation on performative romance and at her own loneliness. She didn't want to be in a relationship. She didn't have the time or the temperament for it. But damn if this time of year didn't make her resent not being in one.
The studio was throwing a little staff party, despite the general lack of enthusiasm for such a thing among the crew who would either rather be out with their significant others or at least not be reminded about their lack of one. It was Mitchell's idea, and Kathy had an unpleasant idea that it was a ploy for hitting on the interns. Some people never learned.
Kathy wasn't looking forward to it, but she resigned herself to showing up anyway, if only because she was expected to. She'd stay just long enough to prove she'd been there, then she'd go home and watch horror movies with Tessa over pizza and hot wings. Then the next morning, they'd rake in the discount chocolate.
The party took place in the biggest conference room. The furniture had been cleared out and a snack table set up against the back wall, covered in store-bought heart-shaped cakes and those sugar cookies that Kathy always thought tasted like sand. There were some pink and red streamers and decorations from the dollar store up, and the most popular tunes of the mid-nineties playing. A couple of cheesy games had been set up, as well as a little photo spot with a heart-shaped backdrop and some silk roses, like a particularly sad junior prom.
It all looked impossibly embarrassing, but people were trying to have a good time anyway. Kathy lurked near the photo spot with a glass of champagne, wondering how long she should stay before it was okay to bail.
Mitchell was, as Kathy had suspected he would be, flirting sleazily with the youngest interns. Emma, the redhead, seemed to be a particular target. Kathy didn't have any particular fondness for Emma, who was a likely candidate to take her job one day, but she wouldn't wish Mitchell's affections on anyone. Mitchell kept leaning in closer to her, pushing another glass of champagne into her hands.
Emma looked as clearly disinterested and uncomfortable as Kathy had ever seen a woman look, turned practically sideways in an effort to disengage, looking anywhere but at Mitchell, nodding and smiling but saying nothing, not wanting to encourage the conversation. Kathy could tell she was maintaining politeness only because Mitchell was her boss and she didn't want to lose her job.
Eventually, it was too painful to keep watching. Kathy wandered over, casual as you please, unnoticed by Mitchell who was focused entirely on Emma. Kathy moved behind him, pretending to examine the prizes for 'Pin the Arrow on Cupid' and, very casually, dumped her champagne down the back of Mitchell's shirt. He shouted in surprise at the sudden cold liquid.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" Kathy exclaimed, hamming it up with a shocked expression. "I'm such a klutz! I've ruined your nice shirt."
The nice shirt in question was a black T-shirt with a picture of a tuxedo front printed on it. Mitchell scowled.
"Damn it, Burgess!" he shouted. "If you can't handle a little champagne then lay off the bar! You should be avoiding the extra calories anyway."
Kathy's smile soured fast and she briefly contemplated breaking the champagne glass on his face.
"You're right, my bad," she said. "Can I get you some napkins?"
But Mitchell was already storming off to the bathroom to see the damage. Emma breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank you," the young woman said. "I'm about ninety percent sure he was about to try slipping something into my drink."
"Nah, Mitchell isn't that subtle," Kathy replied dryly. "He'd probably just threaten to fire you if you didn't go home with him."
"What a creep." Emma shook her head, disgusted. "You know, I heard he has cameras in the women's bathrooms!"
"I would not be surprised," Kathy said honestly.
"I'm going to get out of here before he comes back," Emma said, pulling her bag up onto her shoulder. "Thank you again for the rescue."
"No problem," Kathy assured her. "Women have to stick up for each other. We sure as hell can't expect the men to do it. I'll cover for you. Have a nice night."
Emma waved and hurried out of the party. Kathy went to fetch another glass of champagne, glad that, if nothing else, she'd at least thwarted Mitchell's disgusting plans for the evening. She'd make sure Emma got away clear, then she'd head out and join Tessa, who was already texting her.
Got the first movie picked out and the pizza is on its way, Tessa's text read, accompanied by several celebratory emojis. How much longer are you going to be?
I'll probably show up around the same time as the pizza, Kathy wrote back, plucking a fresh glass of champagne off the table with her free hand. I'm leaving in just a minute. I already ruined Mitchell's night and nothing is going to top that.
You go girl. Dance emoji surrounded by fireworks. Give me the details when you get here.
Kathy was about to text back when a familiar voice caught her by surprise.
"Fancy seeing you here."
Kathy turned around quickly, her eyes widening as she saw the Sheikh standing behind her. He looked a little tanner than the last time she'd seen him from his week in the sun of Abu Sadah, and he was wearing a loose, stylish gray suit with no tie. She smiled as soon as she saw him. The delight that washed over her was genuine and unexpected.
"Tehar!" she said. "You're back! I didn't think you'd be leaving until Monday. Is Shadaf all right?"
"He's fine," Tehar assured her. "He's doing much better. Enough to be tired of my hovering over his shoulder and insisting I get back to my life at once."
"And your first visit on getting back is to this lame office party?" Kathy asked, amused.
"Well, you mentioned you would be here," Tehar replied, with a little amused smile of his own. Kathy was embarrassed by how her heart skipped a beat to hear him say that, and tried to quickly dismiss the feeling.
"Are you planning to stay long?" she asked. "You've probably got better parties to go to tonight, right?"
"Actually, this is my only engagement for the evening." When he saw her look of surprise, Tehar chuckled and reached past her for a glass, so close that his jacket brushed against her for a moment. "I did tell you I was single."
"I guess I can't shake the image of you as some kind of glamorous socialite," Kathy said, knowing it was a little silly. "But if you're planning to stay here for a while, I wouldn't mind hanging around."
"I would like that," he said.
He had a way of smiling that felt warm and distant at the same time, like a candle in a faraway window. There was genuine kindness and affection there, but kept at a polite distance, beyond Kathy's reach.
It was probably for the best, Kathy reminded herself. He was her boss and there was no one who respected the importance of remaining professional more than he did. Like he'd said the other day, QIC Media couldn't afford another scandal. Their relationship could never be more than cordial, businesslike. No wonder his smile seemed so far away. Kathy felt herself pulling away a little just thinking about it. Still.
"I'd like that too," she said.
She texted Tessa briefly, updating her on the situation.
Going to be back later than I thought. I'll pay for the pizza. Go ahead and start without me.
Did someone catch your eye? Tessa guessed, followed by a suspicious emoji.
Tehar is here, Kathy typed back.
Hell yeah, Tessa replied instantly. Enjoy! Followed by a paragraph-full of kissing faces. Kathy, face red, turned off her phone and shoved it into her bag.
Champagne in hand, she and Tehar wandered for a bit, talking to the ot
her singles who had nothing better to do, or were, like Kathy, obligated to attend as major faces of the company.
After a few glasses of champagne and some of the rum balls someone from accounting had brought, they even agreed to play some of the games. Amber from HR had thrown the corny little shindig together and was doing her best to keep it fun. She'd even brought a couple of prizes. Amber ushered them over to ‘Pin the Arrow on the Cupid’ and, with a wink, encouraged Tehar to blindfold Kathy.
They shared a wry look at the silliness of it all, but Tehar accepted the blindfold anyway, stepping behind Kathy to drape it over her as though it were a diamond necklace and not a dollar store tie covered in hearts. Then, he took her gently by the shoulders and spun her until she stumbled, dizzy and giggling, against him.
Laughing himself, he pointed her towards the cupid and she took a few unsteady steps forward, both hands out, one holding the arrow she was supposed to pin, the other groping for a point of reference.
"Two more steps forward!" Tehar coached her. "Aim for about the level of your nose."
She followed his advice, though Amber from HR scolded him playfully for cheating, carefully taking another two steps until she felt the wall under her fingers. About the level of her nose, he'd said. She jabbed the pin in and stepped back, pulling off the blindfold.
"Well, it's close enough," Tehar said with a rumbling laugh. She'd stuck the cupid right in the face.
"All right, your turn, smart guy," Kathy teased, holding up the blindfold.
They played several more times, shouting each other intentionally misleading intentions to try and get the arrow stuck in increasingly ridiculous places. In the end, Amber from HR handed Kathy a pair of novelty heart-shaped sunglasses and Tehar, who had actually struck the bull's eye on one of his turns, a box of rather nice chocolates. Kathy and Tehar retreated, having attracted others to the game with their exuberance.
"I'm not sure if these are quite my style," Kathy commented, looking at Tehar over the top of her new sunglasses.