A Silent Prayer
Page 3
At the sight of her, my heart had begun beating like a drum. It’s the same feeling I had eight months back when I met the woman dancing passionately in that old building. I can never forget how those ebony eyes looked at me from behind the mask, how she was trying to catch her breath, her breasts resting on me.
Is she the same girl?
No, she can’t be. Rania is an ordinary girl, doing a regular job. There was magic in that enchantress, in her eyes, in her lips, in her movements, yet the same magic exists in Rania’s eyes too. And her fragrance, it was so familiar. The same aroma that intoxicated me that day, when I lost my mind. I lost it today too. The spark that I got when her hand touched mine, did she feel the same sensation?
I look at my hand carefully to check if it has turned blue due to the electrical current. Nothing like this has happened to me before.
Fuck! What is wrong with me?
I have slept with so many women, but never felt anything except fulfilling my body’s needs. I wonder how, just with a touch of her hand, she made all my reflexes work together within my body at the same time. What would it be like to be close to her? The explosion would surely kill me. And that death would be so much sweeter than this life.
What must she be thinking about me, a rude self-centered man who didn’t have the courtesy to help a lady? I could have called her back and given her the badge. What the hell was I thinking?
A knock at the door brings me back into the world of reality.
“Come in, Sylvain.” I know it’s her. No one would come to the door unannounced except her and Ali.
“Mr. Gibson, I have all the details. The meeting was organized by Ben Dynham, CEO of Greenway Advertising. Their office is on the thirteenth floor of this building. It is just the regular holiday breakfast for all their creative teams. Their sales and marketing departments work from this campus, whereas the other departments like Creative Graphics and Creative Minds work from the Inwood International head office on Bloor Street. The meeting room is booked till 12:30, under Mr. Dynham’s name.” Sylvain looks proud of having delivered the information so quickly.
She hands me the list of invitees, which I start scrutinizing immediately. It has their employee and badge numbers, along with the badge pictures.
“Anything else, Mr. Gibson?” she asks gently.
“Yes, send Ali in.” I am still going through the list and not looking at her. There she is. Rania Ahmed. It is very easy to locate her in the list; she has the most beautiful picture. How can someone look so fascinating on a security badge? I could look at this picture for years. The eyes contain the same magic. I get completely lost in her beauty, not realizing when Ali steps into my room. He must have knocked on the door, which I didn’t hear at all. I look away from the paper and place it on my desk.
“This girl.” I point with my index finger to let Ali know who I mean. He looks intently and reads out her name. “I want her complete background check, where she lives, where she goes, her hobbies and activities, her job description, her weekly schedule, her relationships, her shopping interests. I want to know everything about her.”
Ali looks at me, surprised and dubious. He’s no doubt wondering when I developed stalking tendencies. Ali bin Moosa has been working with me and my dad for twelve years, almost as long as Sylvain. He was my father’s right hand and then, after his death, he started working for me. He is kind of a brother to me, although he’s ten years older. An ex-army officer, of Moroccan background with a tall broad physique, he is a trained fighter and knows how to handle the most critical situations. He knows all my habits, my secrets, my interests. I always get my employees’ background checks, but I have never been so aggressive about it. Not even about my clients with whom I do million-dollar deals.
“This information will take at least an hour, if you can wait.” He knows me very well, and he knows I am anxious to know the details. “And about her weekly schedule, we need to monitor her activities for a week; we cannot really find out about her daily schedule. Are you sure you want to go with this?” He is right. It is not appropriate to stalk her. It would be violating her privacy.
Fuck her privacy.
I want to be her only private concern.
“I can’t trust anyone other than you, Ali. You investigate everything about her personally. Make sure this conversation remains between us. Do not ask anyone about it. Be her shadow.”
Ali stands here in amusement and swallows each word I have said to him. “I will find out the details and email them to you in an hour. Anything else?”
“Yes, one more thing, Ali. Inform Mr. Dynham that I will be joining the breakfast shortly.” Ali leaves my office with more work on his shoulders.
Show time!
STRANGER IN DISGUISE
♀
Still speechless, I enter the meeting room, which is filled with team members from my office. I see Ben, my boss, talking to the marketing guys. Ben is one of my father’s closest friends; they studied together thirty years ago at Glasgow University in Scotland. Ben moved to Canada ten years back and started his advertising firm. With many years of hard work, he has achieved the highest-profile corporate clientele in Canada, from large telecoms to winery businesses. I am really proud of him. He has always thought of me as his daughter, since he never had one of his own. Besides my father, he was the first man who held me after I was born.
He has a son, Mike, who is around my age and my only friend here. We grew up together in Beirut. In high school, we promised if we could not find a suitable partner for marriage by the age of twenty-five, we would marry each other. The thought of Mike makes me smile. He is a sweetheart. After high school, Mike took admission in Ryerson University and moved here with his father. When I came to Toronto, Ben and Mike were my emotional support system, and they still are. Ben always wanted Mike to join his business, but he became a cop instead. I love him very much and I would not do anything to jeopardize my friendship with him, although what he wants from me I cannot give to him. On my twenty-fifth birthday, he said: “Rania, it is high time that we should keep the promises we made together.” And I asked him to extend the promise five more years. My father is very fond of Mike, but I know he would never want me to marry someone outside my religious boundary. But the real reason I cannot marry him is that I never felt anything romantic for him. He is my friend and will always stay in that same compartment of my heart.
I bring my mind back to the room and head toward where my office friends are sitting, having breakfast. As I sit, Ben comes over to me.
“Good morning, princess, where have you been? You missed my speech.” Ben winks at me with his mischievous smile. He reminds me of Dad so much.
“Well…” I look around to avoid eye contact. “I got stuck… in… umm… a situation.” I am not sure if I should tell him about my accident.
“You didn’t take anything to eat? Please, help yourself,” Ben says in a very affectionate way, just like my father would have.
“I am not hungry right now. But I will have something in a while. Thanks for asking, Ben.” I actually lost my appetite when I heard the words I got carried away.
A call on his cell phone distracts Ben.
“Yes? Dynham speaking. Yes… uh huh… really? Well, the pleasure is all mine… he is most welcome. Thank you for letting me know.” Ben puts the phone back in his jacket pocket and smiles from his heart.
“Your girlfriend called?” I ask him, while taking a sip of my coffee.
“No, not my girlfriend. Gibson Enterprises. Mr. Gibson will be coming here shortly to join us for breakfast. I am delighted. He is a very reserved man and he doesn’t go anywhere if there is no business involved. If he is coming, I am sure he wants to talk to me about our further work with Gibson.” Ben shifts his gaze from me to the others around us with an announcement. “And further work means all your jobs are secure.”
We all tal
k about our piled-up deliverables, and Ben asks me if I can join him at a seminar in New York where private business owners and entrepreneurs gather every year to display their work and contributions to the world of advertising. It has always been a big event, and Ben makes lots of contacts for his company. Last year, it was a conference on animation in the media world. This year, they are highlighting graphics in e-magazines and e-catalogs. Ben is doing me a big favor; it is a great opportunity for me and my career.
While we are all engrossed in our futures, I look toward the entrance and see a man holding my travel mug. It’s him.
What the hell is he doing here?
I go and meet him at the door.
“What are you doing here? I told you I can’t bring people in here,” I say to him, annoyed.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I came to return this and say thank you.” He hands me the mug, his sweet husky voice melting all my annoyance.
“You didn’t have to. It was okay.”
“Rania…” Ben appears from nowhere and puts his arm around my shoulder. “You know Mr. Gibson?”
I look up at the green-eyed man with open mouth. Shit. I want to disappear.
“Adam Gibson.” He extends his hand to me for a friendly shake.
God, bury me please.
I give my hand to him without saying a single word.
“Yes, Mr. Dynham, we met recently… in a… very interesting situation.” Adam smiles and winks at me wickedly, still holding my hand in his.
Ben shifts his gaze from Adam to me, his eyes carrying thousands of questions. I retrieve my hand from Adam’s firm grip and look at Ben with a foolish smile on my face.
“Well… I was a bit lost looking for this place…” I am talking to Ben but my eyes are on this overly sexy man. “Mr. Gibson was kind enough to guide me here.” I look down at my shoes; I want to avoid all the eyes on me.
“You are very welcome here, Mr. Gibson. It is a great honor for our firm that you joined us for breakfast. Some journalists and photographers are also here. I hope you don’t mind if they cover you for this event.” Ben looks really nervous. This handsome young man, who was holding my hand a minute ago, is a gold mine to Ben. He wants to make the most of this acquaintance.
Though our firm has an office here in Gibson’s building, Ben has never had a chance to even meet Adam Gibson personally. He has been trying to get Gibson’s company as a corporate client for years and this seems to be his only chance. I know already from his expression what he will ask me in the future.
“No, Mr. Dynham, I wouldn’t mind at all, if your beautiful Creative Designer keeps me company.” He continues, “But before any photographs, I would request that she accompany me for the breakfast. She owes me one.” He looks at Ben. “I wanted to join her for breakfast, but she refused to entertain a famished person. The policies are very well defined here.” He smirks impishly; he is making fun of me in front of my boss.
How rude! Could this be more embarrassing?
Ben looks at me dubiously, as if I have been hiding something from him for years. I am not interested in what is going on in his mind. I just want to vanish from here.
“Of course, Mr. Gibson,” Ben says. “It is a privilege for us. Rania, please escort Mr. Gibson to the breakfast buffet.” Ben peeks at me and then smiles at Adam. “Mr. Gibson, please enjoy your breakfast. I will see you shortly.”
I leave the conversation without bothering to look back. Adam follows me like my shadow. I hand him an empty plate with the cutlery. I can feel him watching me intently.
What does he want from me?
I have nothing to offer him. Every time our eyes meet, I feel he wants to ask me something. “Would you like some pancakes, Mr. Gibson?” I don’t look at him.
“Yes, thank you, Rania. I’m not Mr. Gibson. Please call me Adam.” He moves up close behind me, whispering in my ear. “Not for you, at least.”
Oh my! I need some space.
He is so close that if I dared to turn around, we would end up with skin-to-skin contact. I pretend to ignore his intimate whispers. I don’t even have the courage to look around to check if anybody is watching us or not. I know how the media scavenge like vultures, seeking for gossip.
“I thought you ate the pumpkin bread. You still want more?” I finally find the courage to look in his eyes.
“I am always yearning for more, Ms. Ahmed. You have no idea how greedy and voracious I am.” He searches my face. I avert my eyes and move a few steps to the side, creating distance between us. He still keeps following me, watching me intently. Those green eyes could kill me. I cannot bear it anymore.
I wish I could escape.
“You are not eating anything?” he asks me in a friendly way, giving up on the sexy whispers. I feel like I can breathe again. Does he think after all that just happened, my stomach wouldn’t have knots?
“No. I have already. But thanks for asking. You want a muffin?” I ask, choosing a blueberry muffin for him.
He looks at the muffin and smiles. “Yes, please. You don’t need to ask every time you pick something. Fill me with whatever your heart desires.”
Okay! Back to the sexy whispering roller coaster ride.
I try to move faster, filling his plate with breakfast so that I don’t have to talk to him anymore. He is suffocating me with his whispers. No one has ever talked to me like that. They can all read the ‘not interested’ sign on my face. Why is this man different? Why can’t he see that sign on my forehead?
I should have realized that he runs this empire. It’s his damn building; he can come and go anywhere he wants. No wonder the security guards didn’t question him. And I pushed him away when he got carried away. I notice that he didn’t lie at all. He speaks whatever is on his mind. Very intriguing!
“Can I ask you something, if you don’t mind?” he asks me in a very sweet manner. I stay quiet, pouring coffee for him. “Please look at me, Rania. I am talking to you.” I look up. He is standing close to me, very close. I don’t say anything, just let him continue. “Have we met before?” His eyes are searching mine.
“You think so?” I avert my gaze and look for sugar and cream.
“You look so… familiar. Your eyes… I have seen those eyes before,” he says, and rests himself on the corner of the buffet table.
“That’s so cheesy, Mr. Gibson,” I reply, rolling my eyes at him.
“I’m serious.” He scowls at me.
“Mr. Gibson, there are almost seven billion people in this world. You think God will not repeat the eyes? And it is said that there are seven more faces similar to each of ours. Did you know that?” Now, I do look at him.
“I know what you are saying… but…” He comes closer to read my eyes. The coffee cup starts to shake in my hand.
What is he about to say?
“The eyes holding a thousand secrets… they cannot be in a population of seven billion. That maddening darkness doesn’t exist anywhere else. Please tell me if we have ever met before.” He realizes my hand is shaking and takes the cup from me.
“I didn’t even know your name, Mr. Gibson. How can you ask if we have met?” I pick up another cup of tea for myself. He hands me the milk pot, but he doesn’t stop looking at me. I add milk and sugar to my tea and turn around.
Ben is looking at us skeptically.
Oh crap!
I am not interested in any more interrogation. Ben walks toward us and Adam shifts two steps back to give us space. I take a deep breath, relieved.
Ben asks me to join him and Adam. I don’t have a bloody choice, do I? He leads us to an empty table and we sit down, me facing Adam across the table.
“So, Mr. Dynham, how come your marketing team is here and your creative team is operating from another location?” He looks at me specifically when he says creative. Ben watches us to find out if he is missing something.
Adam takes a sip of his coffee. His posture is slightly tilted toward Ben, right elbow resting on the table. He rubs his lower lip with his index finger, thinking something. I guess this is his habitual gesture of contemplation. He finally looks up with a slight curve to his lips.
“I want your creative people to work from this location, Mr. Dynham, if you are interested in doing business with us.”
He has surprised both Ben and me with his proposition. It seems that if Ben wants Gibson’s business, that means we all move in here. Adam and me, working at the same location. His gaze has suffocated me enough. How can I . . . ?
“So, Mr. Dynham, how soon can you move in here? I can vacate the complete floor for you. We can sign the lease later on. Move in first, and then we will further discuss business prospects and—”
He gets interrupted by a phone call. “Excuse me, please…” He accepts the call, but looks furious at being interrupted. I twist my ring around my finger and when I look up, he is looking at me and then at my ring, though he is still speaking on the phone. Ben has apparently noticed the way he is staring.
“Yes? . . . uh huh… that’s good… so quick? . . . I am impressed… yes, I will come up soon… see you…” He ends the call. He is smiling. Something pleasant has obviously happened. His girlfriend called?
“Please excuse me. I need to go to the ladies’ room.” I need an excuse to get the hell out of here.
“And please excuse me as well; I have to attend an urgent meeting,” Adam says, and stands up with me. Ben follows us to be courteous.