The Sheikh's Secret

by Knight, Kylie

  “Thank you, sir. That is very kind of you to say.”

  “Not at all, not at all.”

  This comment was followed by a deep lull, a silence in which the only things that Aasir could hear were the clinking of the ice against the sides of his glass and the very faint sound of Alison’s soft breathing on the other end of the phone. It was an oddly comforting sound, like a lullaby he hadn’t realized he was missing but was suddenly aware he could not live without. What a strange thought to have about a woman he did not know at all. Clearly, his massive fight and subsequent breakup with Nicole was messing with his head. Why else would he have such a strange thought as that?

  “Sir? Sir, are you still there?”

  Christ, here he was pondering the restorative properties of the sound of his maid’s voice and all the while said maid was waiting for his instructions on the other end of the phone call he himself had initiated. If he wasn’t careful this woman was going to come to the conclusion that her new employer was off of his rocker and, once that happened, he would not be able to fault her one bit. At this point he was starting to regret making the call in the first place, but now that he was on it he needed to find a graceful way to handle an already unpleasant and admittedly less than ideal situation.

  “Yes, forgive me. I’m still here. I apologize. Am I calling you at a bad time?”

  “No,” she said with a warmth in her voice that he found somehow surprising, “not at all. What can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering if you might be able to meet me in the library. I would just like to discuss a few things with you.”

  “Of course. Is anything the matter?”

  “What do you mean? In regards to what?”

  “Well in regards to me, I suppose. Have I done something wrong? If so, I apologize.”

  “What? Oh, no! No, nothing like that. As far as I can tell you’ve done a lovely job so far. I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

  “Alright, absolutely. Of course. I’ll be right down.”

  Alison hung up the phone and Aasir sighed in a mixture of frustration and relief as he let the phone slip from his hand and onto the floor. That conversation had definitely not gone the way he had hoped it would. Hell, it was just supposed to be a short exchange in order to summon her to the library and instead turned into this awkward semi-conversation in which he fell into a rather lengthy silence. Perfect. Just one more thing to try and explain, along with the horrible arguments she must have overheard between him and his hotheaded now ex-girlfriend. For a man with as many advantages as Aasir had, he wasn’t feeling much like a Sheikh. As it turned out, no amount of money, influence, or power could save a man from feeling basic human emotions. It was something that Aasir knew, at least intellectually, but it was still quite humbling to be reminded of how true that was. It was as humbling as a rough smack to the face and a lesson he hoped not to have to learn again for a long, long time.

  “Lord, this has been the worst kind of a day. And now I’m talking to myself. Wonderful.”

  Aasir stood, feeling every muscle in his body scream in protest, and made his way to the elaborate bar in the corner of his expansive library. It was a bar that he had designed himself and that he typically loved, but in moments like these everything felt different. This home, this bar, they made his life feel completely superfluous. He felt like the butt of a joke he had only just recently realized had been told and feeling that silly was not at all something he was comfortable. Like a girl dressed to the nines only to be stood up on her prom night, Aasif felt like a joke. Times like these he wished he had less. He wished he had a life that could be classified as normal. These were thoughts he did not wish to have, however, and he needed to quiet the unfriendly voices whispering inside of his head. In order to help this process along he decided to make use of his fancy, ridiculous bar. It was beyond well stocked and Aasir considered himself to be a bit of an expert on the art of making a cocktail. He might as well make himself something nice and, while he was at it, whip up something for Alison as well. Sure, she was the maid and it was unorthodox to be making his employee a drink, but who the hell cared? It wasn’t like there was anyone else around to keep tabs on whether or not his level of decorum was appropriate. It was only the two of them and if she didn’t want the drink she didn’t have to take it. It just seemed like the polite thing to do. And if he was being honest with himself, which he seemed to be having trouble avoiding at the moment, he was feeling sort of lonely. Just sitting down and having a drink with someone, even someone who was under his employ, sounded like something that might be help, even if only slightly.

  “Sir? May I come in?”

  “Of course,” Aasir replied as he turned and smiled at a decidedly nervous looking Alison, “I am the reason you had to leave the privacy of your own room, after all. And please, you don’t have to call me sir.”

  “What should I call you, then?”

  “I think just my name will do.”

  “Are you sure? You wouldn’t prefer me calling you Mr. Almassi at least? I don’t want you to feel like I’m being disrespectful or anything like that.”

  “I couldn’t possibly think a thing like that, especially when I’m the one who asked you to call me by my given name. It’s not that I’ve got a problem with Mr. Almasi, I don’t want you to think anything like that. It’s just, and please know that I am painfully aware of what a cliche this is, any time I hear someone say Mr. Almasi I think of my father. Thirty-five years old and I still can’t respond to it without being addressed as such several times. I think it will be easier for both of us if you just use my first name, don’t you?”

  “Sure,” she said with a pretty laugh that made Aasir smile again, “when you put it that way. And I don’t think it’s cliche. I felt like that the entire time I was in college and at pretty much every job I’ve ever had. I never answered when people called me Ms. Phelps and then by the time I realized they were talking to me they were looking at me like I was crazy.”

  “There, see? You get it. Wonderful. Oh, also, I was making myself a cocktail and decided to make you one as well. It’s an old fashioned. You don’t have to take it, of course, but it’s here for you if you want it. And I must warn you, I make a fantastic old fashioned.”

  “Drinking on the job? Is that allowed?”

  “Sure. As long as you aren’t going to be operating any heavy machinery in my home. Besides, when you live where you work, one could argue that you are almost always on the job, which would mean you never had a moment to let your hair down and have a good time. That’s no way to live, is it?”

  “No, I suppose it isn’t. Thank you.”

  She walked towards him as timid as a mouse might, taking the drink from his outstretched hand and scurrying backwards like she thought he might bite. Interesting. Aasir wondered if her demeanor was because he was her boss or if it was because of who he was as a man. That was one of his problems. He could never be sure of that sort of a thing. Not that it really mattered, at least not in this particular situation. As lovely as Alison Phelps was, and objectively speaking she was quite beautiful, she was still his employee. It didn’t matter what she thought or felt about him. As long as the two of them harboured a mutual respect for one another, they had all that was required of their relationship with each other. Even if he was blurring the lines ever so slightly by making her that drink. He watched her intently as she took the first sip and smiled to himself by the look of delight it brought to her face. She couldn’t fake that, not the initial reaction that occurred in the split second before a person had the chance to adopt the look that was appropriate for a given situation. Good. That was good. He may have made a mess of pretty much everything else in his world, but it would seem that he could still make a mean drink. So that was something.

  “So, Alison. May I call you that?”

  “Absolutely. That way you know I’ll answer.”

  “Right, I guess we’ve already established that. Anyway, Alison. As I sai
d, I would like to talk to you about something. You’re free to sit, if you like. It isn’t some kind of inquisition, I can assure you of that.”

  “That’s a good start, I guess.”

  Alison sat gingerly on the edge of one of his lavish leather couches cradling her drink as if it were somehow breakable. Aasir could see that she was still very worried that she might be in some kind of trouble, which was unfortunate. The last thing he wanted to do was freak this girl out. He needed to get on with things already, put them both out of their misery.

  “Alison, it’s ok. You can relax. You really aren’t in trouble. As if I could ever really get you in trouble. I’m not your parent. I actually wanted to apologize. I wanted to apologize to you.”

  “Apologize?” she said in a high pitched voice full of surprise.

  “Yes, apologize. I think I owe you that.”

  “But why? What for?”

  “For what I’m sure you heard tonight. Nicole and I. We’ve always fought, gone through our rough patches, but for some reason it seems to have been getting worse and worse over the past few months and, regrettably, you have been subjected to quite a bit of that in your short amount of time staying here. For that, I owe you an apology.”

  “No, you don’t, really, not at all. This is your house, after all. I’m just sorry that you’ve been dealing with that at all. I know those kinds of problems, the relationship problems, they can be so hard. I’m just sorry, for what it’s worth.”

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say. Anyway, I just thought it best to address the elephant in the room. I’m actually starting to feel rather tired so if you don’t mind, I’ll be heading off to my room. I hope the rest of your evening is less eventful than the first part. Actually, I hope that for both of us.”

  Aasir could see that the abruptness of his intention to leave the room was somewhat startling to Alison and he was sorry for it, but he was suddenly feeling very tired. He had gone from feeling an almost pathological need for company to just wanting to be by himself in a surprisingly short amount of time. He hoped she understood. She would have to get used to this sort of thing if she was going to work for him. He could be what some people might call unpredictable. Dealing with that was just going to have to be part of her job description.

  “Good night sir.”

  “Good night what?”

  “Oops,” she said with a sheepish smile, “I mean good night Aasir.”

  He smiled back and then left her in the library. He needed time to think. He needed to try to get his head on straight. All he could think about was his parents. They had been brought together with an arranged marriage, something common where Aasir was from but that he had always secretly thought of as completely atrocious. What an awful idea, to have someone chosen for you, someone you had absolutely no say in whatsoever? What if you were bound to a person you couldn’t stand, or worse, someone you were one hundred percent indifferent to? He had thought the whole thing was borderline barbaric and had sworn to himself every night before he went to sleep that he would never succumb to such a thing. But now, sitting here more than a little bit drunk and alone aside from his slightly skittish maid somewhere in the house, he was starting to wonder if maybe there wasn’t something to the whole idea of arranged marriage, after all. Because his parents? Those same people he used to feel so sorry for, so superior to? They were still together after almost forty years and they seemed to be really, truly happy. They seemed to be happy and for all of his declarations of independence from the culture he was born into, Aasir was still entirely alone.

  Chapter Three

  “Well hello there, miss thing. Look at you answering your phone. And it’s only been, what, almost two months since the last time I talked to you? Not too bad. At least now I can call off the search party. So there’s that.”

  Oh god, here it went again. Jules, true to form, making a big fuss over something that didn’t have to be that big of a deal. Ok, so it wasn’t necessarily the smallest of deals, she could admit that if she was being totally honest with herself. She really hadn’t been the best friend these days, not to Jules and not to anyone else. She had always been the type to fully dedicate herself to every single thing she did and this job with Aasir was no different. She wanted to excel. She wanted to be the best maid he had ever had the pleasure of having in his home. Unfortunately, sometimes her drive to be the best caused her to neglect other parts of her life. She had done that since she was a little girl. Her mother still spoke with the slightest hint of exasperation about how single minded she had been about a thing once she got it into her mind that it was what she wanted. Although she may have matured in some ways since those long past tantrum toddler days, Alison could recognize that there was still a rather substantial amount of that stubbornness in her. She could also recognize that sometimes it made her less than a good friend. Crap. In only a matter of seconds she had managed to talk herself out of being annoyed at Jules’ contrary greeting and into feeling guilty for not being around more.

  “I’m really sorry, Jules. Honestly, I am.”

  “Ugh. Ok, I guess I’ll but that one. But why, Ali? Why do you have to be so damned hard to get in touch with? I feel like I would have an easier time getting ahold of the pope, you know? Or Bono. That’s it. Maybe next time I’ll just give Bono a ring and see if I have better luck getting him on the phone. What do you think? That sound like a plan?”

  “I know, I know. I’m so bad at this!”

  “What do you mean? Bad at what? As far as I can tell, you’ve never been bad at anything. You definitely haven’t been since I’ve known you, and I feel like that’s been for a pretty damned long time.”

  “It has, hasn’t it? It’s like we’re on our way to being ancient or something.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m only getting up to thirty and then I’m holding fast. I’m going to be immortal, just like all of those sexy vampires on tv.”

  “That’s definitely a lofty goal. Not sure how it’s going to work out for you, but still, lofty.”

  “I know, I like to aim high. But don’t change the subject. What did you mean? What is it you think you’re bad at?”

  “I don’t know. Being someone’s friend, I guess. I’m sorry, I really should have done a better job at calling you, or at least at calling you back after you called me. I’ve been pretty awful, I guess.”

  “Shit, well now you had to go and make me feel bad for giving you a hard time. It’s ok, really. You’ve got a lot going on. I know that. I’m guessing you’re still at your job?”

  “I am indeed.”

  “And that’s what’s keeping you so busy?”

  “Sure. I mean yes, that’s what’s keeping me busy.”

  “Aha! Keeping you busy, huh? So there’s something going on between the two of you. I totally knew it. I knew something was going to happen with you two! You are totally too pretty for a man to have you living in his house and not ever do anything about it.”

  “What? No! I didn’t mean it like that. He’s not keeping me busy with himself! I just meant with my job. It’s an awfully big house and there’s a lot to do around it.”

  Alison felt like her entire face was on fire. It was a good thing Jules couldn’t see her through the phone or else she would never hear the end of it. She had never been the type of girl to play coy or keep her emotions to herself and she would have been the most god awful poker player there ever was. All it would have taken was one look and her best friend would have realized that there was something going on there and Alison just couldn’t take the idea of having to explain what it was. It would be too embarrassing for life. She would have had to just sink into the floor and disappear forever.

  “Alison?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you ok? Did I take it too far?”

  “I’m fine. We’re fine, too. You didn’t take things too far. I’m just tired. I guess I’ve been working a little bit too hard. Speaking of which, I’ve got a lot to do still before I’m done
and it’s getting late. But I miss you. Can we get drinks? Maybe tomorrow night? I should have plenty of time off by then.”

  “Drinks? Do my ears deceive me? Hell yes, we can get drinks! It’ll help me to make sure you’re a real live girl and not some kind of an imaginary friend I came up with and then forgot about.”

  “Ha ha, I know. I’m elusive. Where do you want to meet?”

  “Um, I don’t know. The usual? The Dive? Unless you want something more fancy now that you’re living at a big shot’s place.”

  “No, nothing fancy. I get enough of fancy around here. This guy could make a fortune running his own bar just from the setup he’s got in the library. He makes these really beautiful fancy cocktails with a bunch of ingredients I’ve never even heard of.”

  “Oh my god, you are killing me. I can’t believe this is your life now!”

  “Remember, maid. If you want to be a maid, you too may be lucky enough to clean up after a super rich man.”

  “Hm. I’ll keep that in mind. But tomorrow night. Don’t even think of backing out on me because I will come knock on that man’s front door until he hand delivers you to me. You know I will, without a second thought.”

  “I know. Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

  “K, bye lady.”

  “Bye.”

  As good of a friend as Jules was, and she was, pretty much the best, Alison couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over her as she finally hung up the phone. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to talk to her because she did. It made her feel so much more like herself to talk to someone who really knew her. It was just that Aasir would be home soon and it would probably be with someone. There had been a whole lot of someones over the last two months, after he and Nicole broke up. That was the other reason Alison was relieved to get off of the phone. She knew that if she talked to Jules for much longer, all of the things she had pent up inside of her, the things she had been holding close to her heart day after day would all come tumbling out.