by LETO, JULIE
She coaxed him into buying his niece a cool arts-and-crafts kit that would allow her to paint and bedazzle her own jewelry box. They were about to head to the adult sections of the store when he caught sight of a wire cage filled with inflated balls. Bearing the likenesses of Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean and bright red Elmos, the balls proved irresistible. Before she could stop him, he’d squeezed one out of the bin and was dribbling up the aisle as if he were channeling Eric Devendorf, one of Syracuse’s best players.
“You’re open,” he shouted, tossing the ball to Anne.
She caught it out of instinct, but hesitated to play this game. Not that anyone was around. The toy section was relatively deserted. And since not a single red-shirted employee was milling about, there really wasn’t any harm in joining his fantasy.
So she dribbled. She traveled a little on her way toward him, but feinted adequately and then threw the ball high into the air so that it arced right back into the bin.
“Three pointer for sure!” she shouted.
“There was a foul in there somewhere,” he insisted.
“Want a free throw?”
“Most definitely.”
Anne watched Mike grab another ball out of the bin and then back up a sufficient distance so that landing the shot would not be an easy feat, particularly since the balls weighed considerably less than a standard basketball. She’d simply made a lucky shot.
But with the shot, so sunk the memory of her absolutely horrendous week. Mike’s infectious silliness had helped her shed the layer of discontent she hadn’t realized she was wearing.
They declared the game a draw after a mother flanked by twin boys turned the corner into their makeshift court. On the way to the pharmacy, Mike slipped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.
“Glad I came along now?” he asked.
She blushed. Had her reluctance to invite him along been obvious?
“It wasn’t personal. I just wasn’t hyped up about having the guy I’m dating see me buy toilet paper, among other things.”
He squeezed her waist and said, “Well, I can use new boxers, so we’ll be even.”
That they were, she couldn’t help but think as they progressed into the men’s section.
Even.
Balanced.
Yin and yang.
And as much as the idea thrilled her, it also scared her. Because if things didn’t work out, the loss would be greater than any other she’d ever experienced. And if they made it, her life would be forever changed.
Eleven
“PARDON ME, BUT IS THIS SEAT TAKEN?”
Anne barely glanced up, engrossed in reading information on the tour’s next stop. She lifted her bag off the chair beside her and gave what she hoped was a polite nod to whomever needed a place to sit.
The cool Egyptian air blew across the Nile, ruffling the guide book her friend, Adele, had bought. Anne had been to the Middle East many times, but this was her first trip to Egypt and she wanted to make sure she didn’t miss anything. As Adele had gone downstairs to their cruise-ship cabin to grab sweaters for them both, Anne leaned back into her deck chair, closed her eyes, relaxed . . . and tried not to think about Michael.
Before she’d met him at the Jeff Tweedy concert and long before they’d become joined at the proverbial hip, she and Adele had planned a spring trip. A friend from her yoga class at the Y, Adele lived only a block from Anne’s place on State Street and shared her love of international travel. After twisting their bodies into proverbial pretzels for an hour, they’d grab a smoothie at a nearby juice bar and chit-chatted about all the places they’d been and where they still wanted to go. When Anne had gotten a call from the local chapter of the United Jewish Federation asking her to attend a conference in Tel Aviv, she’d jumped at the chance. And since the dates coincided with her vacation with Adele, they’d included Egypt in their itinerary, highlighted by this amazing cruise from Aswan to Luxor.
The hardest part had been leaving Michael—and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
In her entire life, she couldn’t remember ever second-guessing plans for a vacation on account of a guy. Michael had encouraged her to enjoy the trip, even sitting side-by-side with her on the couch with his laptop to research her itineraries and stops. And yet, as each day until her departure ticked away, a piece of her heart seemed to tear off as well.
And that, more than anything, frightened her.
Michael had told her about his most painful breakup—the one that had resulted in his adopting Sirus. At the time, she’d been glad she didn’t have a similar story. No dashed expectations or broken hearts in her past. Well, not like his, anyway.
Her relationships had often ended before they began. More often than not, she’d fall head over heels for some great guy who, in the end, just wanted to be friends. The last thing she wanted with Michael was a replay of that scenario. From the get-go, the mutual attraction between them crackled. They shared a love of music, sports, their apartment building, and various ethnic foods. Both career-minded and family-oriented, Michael was everything Anne could have wished for.
Except . . .
Maybe he’d been a little too supportive of her tour of the Middle East. He also hadn’t been in touch much. Yes, he’d answered her e-mails and texts, but not with his usual silliness or cleverness. He’d been a bit terse. Almost cold.
“So, do you feel like Cleopatra?”
Anne turned to the man who’d spoken. She blinked a few times, trying to remember when he’d sat on the deck chair beside her.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, wanting to make sure that he had, indeed, been speaking to her.
“Cleopatra? You know, the queen known around the world as the tempting seductress who sailed down the Nile on her barge?”
Anne closed her book. “Wow, that’s the best pickup line you’ve got?”
He rolled his eyes at his own corniness. “I’m trying to flirt in a foreign language. It’s no easy feat. My name is Samir Moadab. You may call me Sam.”
He pointed to his nametag, which identified him as one of the tour guides assigned to the cruise. She placed his accent immediately as native, though the country of origin listed on his tag read Madrid.
She shouldn’t have noticed that much, but Sam was a hard guy to ignore. His fathomless black eyes, set against skin tinted to a rich burnt umber by generations of his ancestors living life in the desert sun, locked with hers, and his smile, just one curve shy of cocky, accentuated his square jawline. Sam was a hunk.
And Anne wasn’t interested.
This fact, more than his physical perfection, nearly knocked the wind out of her. Before Michael, she would have at least been flattered by his attention. Before Michael, she might have flirted with him just for the fun of it.
But now, all she felt was a nagging guilt for talking to him, even though Michael was thousands of miles away and possibly losing interest in her the longer she was gone.
Well, she couldn’t be pathetic about it. She had a very good-looking guy going out of his way to flirt with her. She had nothing to lose by being friendly.
“Anne Miller,” she said, taking his proffered hand.
“Like the American Broadway star,” he said.
She sat back, surprised. She hadn’t heard a statement like that from anyone younger than her grandmother in years. “You know Anne Miller?”
“My mother loves American cinema and theater. When I went to Columbia for university, she wanted me to hang out on Broadway so I could meet the great stars. I didn’t have the heart to remind her that few of them are still alive.”
“Hm,” she said, trying to quell any sound of how impressed she was. “Columbia?”
His educational pedigree, which she soon learned started with a degree in public relations from the University of Madrid and continued with graduate studies at both Columbia and Oxford, solidified her decision to keep talking to him. She couldn’t help but wonder ho
w a man with his background ended up as a tour guide on a Nile cruise. And if he happened to give her a few hints about great places to visit while here, so much the better.
“Academics do not exactly, what is the term, bring home the bacon? My sister works as a tour guide and she does very well financially, so since I have some very important things to save up for, I thought I’d spend my break making some extra money.”
“Extra money is always good,” she agreed.
She scanned the deck, wondering what was taking Adele so long. Not that she didn’t find Samir interesting. She did. And that alone made her insides wriggle.
“So what brings you to Egypt?” he asked.
She smiled and with no sign of Adele coming up the stairs, she replied simply, “I love to travel.”
“Do you often?”
“I used to,” she said. “My job now keeps me pretty tied to one place.”
She explained about her career as a journalist and her invitation to attend the Tel Aviv conference for the UJF. Sam not only listened intently, but he asked compelling questions and imparted his opinions on matters ranging from journalistic integrity to his recent adventure navigating the Mahene Yehudah market in Jerusalem.
“There’s one place, called Marzipan, that you have to try,” he insisted, leaning onto his elbows so that his face was quite close to hers. “The best chocolate rugelach you’ve ever had. You will be— excuse the term, but it’s the only one that fits—orgasmic with delight.”
Adele finally came back with the sweaters, her timing exquisite as a chill had raced down Anne’s spine. She made quick introductions, hoping that Samir would now turn his attention to her rather adorable—and single—friend. His greeting didn’t fall down in the charming department, but in seconds, he’d zeroed back in on Anne.
“So tell me, what sights are you hoping to see once we reach Luxor?”
“Are you offering to be our guide?” Adele asked, her tone sensual. Clearly, she recognized a good-looking guy as much as Anne had, but she had nothing keeping her back from making the most of it.
“I wish I could, but I already have a group counting on me to take them around. May I?” he said, asking for the travel guide Anne still clutched in her lap.
She relinquished the book, which he flipped through confidently as if he’d read the guide several times and had no need of the index. He produced a pencil from his pocket and proceeded to point out all the best spots for them to visit, including quite a few off-the-beaten-path restaurants and shops frequented by the locals that he sketched onto the removable map.
Anne found it increasingly difficult not to respond to his probing questions and insightful deductions. Under any other circumstances, she might have been inordinately flattered by his attention. She might have even flirted back rather than filtering every word she said through a screen of “what would Michael think if he heard me say that?”
Charming, intelligent, and knowledgeable, Sam was impossible to ignore, though she did try several times to think of a way to change seats with Adele so that her friend was the one noticing his powerfully built arms peeking out from the cuffs of his rolled-up, long-sleeve shirt instead of her. Looking at Samir’s arms only made her miss Michael’s arms—which made her want to slap herself silly.
“Would you ladies like a drink? I know the bartender,” he said, smile dazzling.
“Sure,” Adele answered.
The minute he left, Adele said, “He’s totally into you.”
Anne picked up her bag, stood, and forcibly moved her friend into her chair. The deck wasn’t overflowing with people, so she threw her stuff on the chair now on her other side so that when he returned, Sam would have no choice but sit beside Adele.
“I’m not into him,” Anne insisted.
Adele pursed her lips. “Because of Michael? He’s a half a world away. You haven’t even slept with him yet. There’s nothing wrong with a vacation romance.”
“No, there isn’t,” Anne said, securing every button on her sweater until she was covered up to her neck. “So you go right ahead and have one.”
Adele leaned over and undid the top two buttons before Anne could swat her hands away.
“You’ll thank me,” Adele said. “Buttoning up only emphasizes that bosom of yours.”
Anne looked down and agreed, so she undid one more button, just to be safe.
Before Michael, a fly-by romance with a sexy Egyptian man would not have been out of the question, though she wasn’t one to sleep with strangers. Ordinarily, she enjoyed socializing and flirting, knowing it wouldn’t lead to anything life-changing.
But Michael was in the picture. And on the canvas. And in the frame. He’d injected himself into every element of the portrait of her life—and probably without even meaning to. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d worked his way in on his own or she’d simply put him there because she wanted so much to have a man in her life.
In the past few days, his e-mails had been a little less frequent and, though she’d pretended not to notice, shorter and without his trademark humor. He’d written about Sirus’s trip to the vet, but had not asked about the spa in Cairo where she and Adele had stayed for the first three days of their trip. She’d volunteered the information in her reply, but he hadn’t answered before they’d left Aswan. She wanted to believe that time differences and a busy work schedule kept him from responding, but she couldn’t help but wonder if in the time she’d been gone, he’d found someone new.
Or else, just lost interest.
Sam returned with the drinks and dutifully took his seat beside Adele, though he made a point to engage Anne in every conversation until it was time for them to change clothes for dinner. As they made their way to the stairwell that led to their room, he invited them to join him and his tour group for dinner. Anne had the refusal on the tip of her tongue when Adele enthusiastically accepted.
With a satisfied grin, Sam departed.
“What did you do that for?” Anne demanded.
“You said I could have him,” Adele reminded her. “I can’t do that unless I see him again.”
Adele dressed to the nines for dinner, and yet, once they reached the table set for twelve, Sam somehow managed to maneuver so that he was sitting beside Anne and Adele was on the opposite end of the long table with a Spanish man and his brother who were on their first visit to the area.
“You know,” Anne said. “I should probably tell you that I have a boyfriend.”
The words sounded incredibly foreign to her, but nice at the same time. The way that Sam’s eyes darkened with disappointment was nice, too. But he recovered quickly.
“Of course you do,” he said. “You’re quite beautiful.”
“And you’re quite good at this bilingual flirting.”
“I try,” he said, draping his napkin across his lap as the waiter brought the first course of tehina salad served with fresh baked flat bread. “And since full disclosure seems to be important to you, I’m engaged to be married in two weeks.”
She nearly choked on the water she’d just sipped.
“Wow,” she said. “I never would have spotted you for a dog.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, a what?”
She explained the American colloquialism.
“Then this is not a compliment,” he concluded.
“No,” she replied.
“Does it help if I tell you the marriage is to a cousin and it was arranged by our parents when we were five years old?”
She narrowed her gaze, trying to determine if he was telling her the truth, but then she decided that it really didn’t matter. Sam was charming and attractive and his attention shined a spotlight on Anne’s feelings for Michael, which she hadn’t quite realized had deepened so much and so quickly. His absence was like a constant ache in the pit of her stomach.
“Only if you accept that I’m not the type of woman who steals another woman’s husband, no matter the circumstances of their engagemen
t. So, what if, since we’ve both established that we’re both unavailable, we enjoy our dinner?”
And they did. In fact, they enjoyed dessert too, and drinks in the nightclub. They crossed paths at breakfast the next morning and before she and Adele climbed into a taxi at their first stop, he chatted with their driver to make sure he not only was a great guide for the day, but also that he wouldn’t try to add any unexpected charges or trips into disreputable areas.
Anne couldn’t help but think that Samir’s arranged marriage was going to make a very lucky woman out of his cousin.
She and Adele spent the day sightseeing and shopping. When they passed a large hotel owned by a British conglomerate, Anne used the opportunity to pick up the strong cell signal from their tower and called Mike. She’d already punched in all the numbers when she calculated the time difference and realized she was calling him at seven o’clock in the morning.
But as it was a workday, he answered on the second ring.
“Michael, it’s Anne. I’m in Luxor.”
Was it her imagination or did he hesitate a long time before saying, “Hey.”
Anne’s mouth dried. That “hey” didn’t sound like the greeting that used to make her blood steam within her veins. It sounded uncertain. Maybe even disinterested.
“So,” she said, pushing aside her insecurities. “What’s going on?”
“Just getting ready for work.”
Another pause. Didn’t he know that connecting with him while halfway across the globe was no easy feat?
She turned the topic to one she knew he’d jump all over. “How’s Sirus?”
When he replied with, “Fine,” her heart cracked.
And until that moment, she hadn’t fully realized how deeply into her system that Michael Davoli had insinuated himself.