A Silent Prayer

by Samreen Ahsan

  The smile on Ali’s face is demonstrating the fact that my situation looks fucking delectable to him. He is right, though. I am already spending a lot, just so I can be around her. But I know relocating an office is not as simple as it sounds. This could take weeks, maybe months. I cannot wait. There has to be some other way to see her.

  Think, Adam!

  “You have some more news to share?” Ali asks me sarcastically.

  My mind is swirling with wild thoughts and suddenly an idea pops.

  Ting!

  “Arrange a party in honor of Greenway joining hands with Gibson. Tonight. Book the best place in town.”

  “Tonight? But we have not signed any contract with Greenway. The other media people would be there. Without a contract, we cannot publicize the agreement. It is just verbal.” Ali is right. I am losing my mind over her. But I don’t see any other way to meet her. She will meet me officially.

  “You haven’t met Dynham, have you? He is quite a greedy man. My verbal commitment was enough for him. He will not ask for a fucking contract. And the party, with all the media coming in, I don’t think he would disagree with that. From his side, the party is securing him the business with us.” My eyes make contact with his and he knows exactly what I am talking about.

  “I know how Dynham is. The fact that he’s wanted business from us for years makes it much easier. I will ask Sylvain to arrange the party and send invitations immediately.” Ali turns toward the door, then stops. “You are okay with The Fairmont Royal York?”

  “Perfect.” I smile and turn around to enjoy the view I am blessed with.

  AN INVITATION

  ♀

  I go back to the Maple Room and see Ben waiting for me at the doorway.

  “Would you care to tell your uncle what just happened?” He looks dishonored, like I had hurt him.

  “There is nothing to say, Ben.” I look up at him sincerely.

  “You didn’t have the courtesy to tell me that he was coming here?” He seems angry with me.

  “I didn’t know. I thought he only showed up to return my travel mug.” I look down at the floor.

  “He came all the way here to return your mug? That’s it? And how did he get it?” Ben is getting more upset. He is concerned, like my father would be.

  “We met in the lobby. I told you, I was searching for the room location in my email and he offered to guide me. When we reached here, he asked me if he could come in. Since he was a stranger, I told him I had to abide by corporate policy, and I could not bring him in without permission. So I offered him my tea and bread, in case he was hungry.” I skip the entire embarrassing situation at the turnstile.

  “Are you kidding me, Rania? You were trying to feed someone who feeds thousands of starving people daily?” Ben’s mouth opens in surprise. “Come and sit. We need to talk.” Ben takes my hand and guides me to the corner table, close to the doorway. “I will not ask what happened between you two. I figured out that you were unaware that he is Adam Gibson. I guess your kindness has smitten him.” Ben is observing my expressions.

  “Smitten? I—”

  “You didn’t notice how he was looking at you? Open your eyes, girl. His eyes were fixed on you only.” I don’t like Ben probing, but I cannot deny the fact that Adam was blatantly staring. “Now, listen to me very carefully.” Ben scoots forward and speaks in a low tone. I feel a chill down my spine, and I have some intuition what he wants to say. “You know how much I wanted Gibson’s name on my profile. This opportunity has come to me on a gold platter. A single mistake by you could ruin everything.” His tone is threatening. When it comes to business, Ben is uncle to no one.

  “What did I do, Ben?” I snap.

  “I saw what you were doing in the corridor. You were pushing him away—”

  “What exactly are you expecting from me?” I interrupt, suddenly angry.

  “I am not asking anything. Just go with the flow. Don’t alienate him.” Ben has never looked at me like this. I stay quiet and look down at the table while he continues. “Rania, I have always liked you. I know my son is in love with you, and I have always accepted you as my future daughter-in-law. After all these years, I can see that you don’t carry any emotion for my son. He is no more than a friend to you.” Ben’s eyes are focused on me. “I have seen my son drunk and cursing your name some nights. I don’t blame you for breaking his heart, because you never made any promises to him. It was always one-sided.” I look up at him, to understand what he is trying to say. “I have been patient with him. But not anymore.” I am still trying to grasp his meaning. “This business is my baby, more than my son. Mike has grown up and I know he can take care of himself emotionally. But this baby needs me. I have given my heart and soul to it.” He closes his eyes to avoid looking at me. Is he feeling guilty because he eavesdropped on us? “You refused to go out with Gibson. Why?”

  Why? He, of all people, is asking me this? Like he doesn’t know why I push men away?

  He opens his eyes and continues, “He doesn’t like to be treated like that, Rania. He is an extremely proud man. He never approaches women. He never had to. If this is his first time pursuing a woman like you, then you should give him the benefit of the doubt.” He pauses for a moment. “Keep in mind that he is a very dangerous man. If you provoke him, it could be hazardous to my business. Do you understand me?” I nod silently. “So, if he asks you out again, would you agree? For your Uncle Ben?”

  I look down at my lap and realize that Ben is holding my hand. “He will not ask me again, if he is a man of virtues.” I look up past Ben, but don’t meet his eyes.

  “You don’t think he would? What if—”

  Ring ring!

  A phone call on Ben’s Blackberry interrupts us. He answers the phone.

  “Ben Dynham speaking. Yes… really? That sounds great… yes, I will check my email… sure, I will forward… thank you…” He ends the call with a smile, and shakes his head with closed eyes. He is looking for words, probably, so I wait for him to speak. “You were right, Rania. He is a man of virtues.” He looks up and sees my astonished face.

  “You spurned him, and he took another route, a very prudent one.” Ben is still shaking his head in bewilderment.

  “What are you talking about, Ben?” The suspense is killing me.

  “I am saying that he has planned a party, in honor of Greenway and Gibson doing business together. Can you believe that?”

  What? That was ludicrous, to throw a party just to see me. Why not just ask me out again?

  I am dumbstruck. Is Adam actually a man of virtue?

  “When is the party?” I ask him. My interest brings smile to his face.

  “Tonight. Fairmont Royal York. 7p.m.” Ben’s information is short but complete. “They will be emailing us shortly. I will forward the invitation to all my employees. We are all invited.” He puts more emphasis on all, and I know what he is trying to convey.

  Without saying anything further, I push back my chair and stand up. Ben looks at me curiously. I collect my travel mug and my jacket and head for the doorway, Ben following. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “I need the rest of the day off, Ben.” Without waiting for his response, I leave the room to clear my head.

  * * *

  I step outside the Gibson building and feel the cold November breeze. After this morning, I need some time on my own. I look around and see Gibson’s stones and decorative bolts, where I first glimpsed those green eyes. There were some extraordinary messages emitting from them. I have never felt like that. With his big emerald eyes, dark brown hair, sharp features, and extremely seductive appearance, he was an angel in the guise of a man. There was something pulling me toward him. He was affectionate, so why did I push him away? There is no harm in asking someone out for a date. But his scorching gaze was wrecking all the doors in my heart that I had closed long ago.
He did not even knock at the doors. He is trying to batter them down without my permission, and it is very hard for me to let him do such thing. He is like a forbidden fruit, attracting everyone around him into the paradise of pleasure. I know the consequences of trying this fruit, but still, I am tempted to take the risk.

  I inhale deeply one more time and head to the Starbucks at the corner of the street. It is about time that I do some research on Adam Gibson. I purchase my hot chocolate, sit down in the corner and open my iPhone. I search his name on my browser and lots of interesting results appear.

  One newspaper wrote that he has disparate views about women. He had mentioned in one of his interviews that a woman’s body is only meant for a man’s pleasure and nothing else. If the hunger could be addressed in simple ways, then why would a man entangle himself in the complexity of a relationship? I close my eyes and remember his gaze on me, and it sends shivers down my spine.

  Was he looking at me to satiate his hunger? To charm me with his wealth, and then take me to bed?

  The thought fills me with abhorrence. I will never let him seduce me. I promise in my heart.

  He is a very dangerous man. Ben’s words ring an alarm in my ears. I search for more on the Internet about his sexual life, but I believe it has been kept very private. He has been spotted with some women, leaving after parties, but nothing more than that is mentioned. One of the newspapers mentions that he is the youngest business magnate in Canada, a mogul in construction and development. From houses to high-rise condominiums, from resorts to five-star hotels, schools to community centers, he rules almost all of Ontario.

  I am more interested in reading about his personal life. I want to know if he is a self-made man or if he inherited this business. I learn that his father started as a builder of private homes. He wanted his son to be an architect, so that he could expand the business. Adam’s father died of a heart attack when Adam was twenty-three, just as he finished his university studies, leaving an immature business to his son. With his creativity and intelligence, Adam rode his father’s dream to the highest level and in nine years, he touched the skies. His father must be proud of him from up there.

  I want to know more about him as a man. One of the articles mentions that he was only six when his mother left his dad and married another man, taking their younger daughter, who was two months old at that time. I feel sorry for Adam. A six-year-old boy, how did he live without a mother? Who would have been there to tuck him into bed? Who would have been there to tell him bedtime stories? Who would have comforted him, when he woke up frightened in the middle of the night? But now, he is Adam Gibson. A man with attitude, power, and unlimited wealth. Does he still see his mother? I wonder, and then question why I would be interested in his personal life.

  As I slide through my browser, one link catches my attention. “A man with an altruistic soul.”

  I open the link and I am flabbergasted to see that a few years back, he donated fifty acres of land to the municipality of Toronto. He has constructed a huge state-of-the-art community center to provide shelter to the homeless. It is mentioned that more than three hundred people come and eat there daily, at Gibson’s expense. Apart from the shelter home, the community center holds all kinds of religious activities, whether it is Christians’ prayers, Muslims’ Salat, Jews’ Siddur, Hindus’ worship services—it accommodates all. I put the phone down and rest my back on the seat, thinking about him. He is donating an extreme amount of wealth from his treasure box to the needy and afflicted. It is heartwarming. My perception toward him is beginning to change. He is creating his own space in my heart.

  I don’t want to read any more. It is too much information for me to absorb in a day. No matter how dangerous he is, I am not afraid of him anymore. He has a heart. He has a soul.

  * * *

  I leave Starbucks and take a long walk. The flavor of the holiday season is already filling up the city, with beautiful decorations of garlands and Christmas trees. Since I told Ben I was taking the rest of the day to blow off all my agitation, I decide to be a kid once again, and visit Santa’s parade. University Avenue is crowded with hundreds of families who are waiting for Santa to arrive. There are groups singing Christmas carols with jingle bells, and giving away candies. I have to agree with the song that is being played from somewhere close by—it is truly the most wonderful time of the year. The whole street is blocked in honor of the parade. People are standing on the sidewalks, kids riding in strollers, couples walking hand in hand, bike riders crossing in between people. I close my eyes, engrossed in the atmosphere. For the time being, I feel completely free of all worries.

  I feel something hit me, knocking me to the ground. But I don’t land on the pavement—strong arms are holding me tight, and I land on something that cushions my fall.

  I was so lost in my other world that for a minute I can’t figure out what happened.

  My thoughts are interrupted by a very familiar masculine voice. “Watch out. Are you fucking blind?” he is shouting. When I open my eyes, I find I am lying on Adam Gibson.

  We are both on the concrete sidewalk; he has his arms around me. Where the hell did he come from, in my other world? I look at him, speechless and bemused. He shifts to a sitting position, still holding me tight.

  I am still trying to absorb where I am. He brushes my hair away from my cheeks and gently cups my face with his warm hands. There is never enough space for me to breathe when he touches me.

  The last thing I remember, I closed my eyes and something pushed me. Now when I open my eyes, I am in his arms.

  How the hell did that happen?

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt, Rania?” There is pure gentleness in his voice. I am still trying to catch my breath. He tucks my hair behind my ears. “Talk to me, Rania. Are you hurt?”

  He is treating me like a six-year-old child who has been lost, and now her father is here to rescue her. I shift away from him and he releases me. He is still concerned, his eyes observing my every expression. He waits patiently for me to speak.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask him, annoyed.

  Silly me!

  I could have said something better, like I am fine. His expression changes from concern to astonishment.

  “Didn’t you see the biker coming your way? You were standing right in his path. He could have hurt you.” His expression changes again, back to concern.

  “No, I… I didn’t see anything… I…” I look around, trying to avoid him looking at me like that.

  “He was calling to you to move. Didn’t you hear him?” He stands up and holds my hand to help me up. I don’t know what to say, so I let him stand me on my feet. My knees are still feeling weak, and he probably notices it. He holds me by my elbow. “Come, sit here on this bench.” He guides me to the bench, where we sit together. Adam angles a bit and faces me. I cover my face and rest my elbows on my knees. I have nothing to say. What was I thinking? Why was I standing in the bikers’ lane with my eyes and ears closed?

  “You came here to save me?” I remove my hands from my face and turn toward him.

  “Yes… no… I mean… I… I saw you standing there, as if you were not aware of your surroundings. Then I saw the biker coming your way and heard him warning you to move. But you weren’t listening, so I moved you out of the way. I hope you’re not hurt.” He is checking my elbows and turns his head to check my back for injuries.

  “But what are you doing here?” Oh, Rania, is that all you can say? Have you forgotten to say thank you to the person who saved you?

  “You are very welcome, Rania.” He is smiling at me, trying to hide his laughter. He makes me realize that I am a rude and stubborn girl, and instead of having the courtesy to thank him, I am asking a dumb question and scowling at him. After all, it is a free country. He can go to anyplace he wants. It is his damn right. I look around the crowd and realize that there are people staring at us
as if we are some celebrity couple.

  “Umm… I am sorry. Thank you… for saving me.” I look at him nervously, and he watches me with his intense green eyes. “But really, what are you doing at the Santa parade? I thought you had a meeting.” I gaze at him to read his expression.

  “I can ask you the same. What are you doing here?” He looks more intense, interrogating me as if he had caught me doing some crime.

  “I came here to see the Santa parade, and I—”

  “I thought you were still at work. I came to… see you, and then Ben told me you took the rest of the day off.” He checks my every single expression, like he is trying to read what is going on in my mind.

  “You are here for me? Why?” Now it is my turn to fire a question. “And how in the world did you know I was here? Wait! Are you stalking—”

  “No, no, please, don’t think like that.” He shrugs in an apologetic manner. “I came down to the room to talk to you and apologize about my behavior in the corridor. So, I met Ben on my way and I asked him about you. He told me you have taken a day off so I—”

  “But I didn’t tell Ben where I was going.” The conversation is igniting.

  Is he actually spying on me? But what does he want?

  “Thanks to technology. I tracked your phone, and—”

  “RANIA! Hey, look here!”

  I hear my name being called from somewhere in the crowd. I look around to see where the familiar voice is coming from. I ignore Adam, as I am seriously pissed. Is this the way to apologize to someone? Tracking them down through their phone? I stand up from the bench and head toward the voice.

  “Oh my God! Mike?” I rush into the crowd in excitement. My best friend is standing here, and I haven’t seen him in three months. He was gone on some special police training to Calgary. I missed him so much, and the happiness in his eyes tells me he has missed me too. I run to him and hug him tightly.