by Holly Rayner
“Well, then.” Chip seemed greatly pleased. “Let’s get on with it.”
Chapter 10
Once a decent interval had elapsed between the end of dinner and the beginning of the entertainment, the first song to be played by the orchestra was “Anniversary Waltz.”
Chip gallantly extended his hand to the lovely Annemarie and escorted her to the middle of the dance floor. There, as the honored couple, they took their places onto marble shining clear and bright as any speckled mirror. Their smooth movements bespoke almost as many years of practice as the anniversary they were celebrating.
While the other guests were watching their hosts with appreciation, Karim remained at the table while Hallie slipped out to change little Aaron into a fresh diaper. Given the attitudes of some of the rich attendees, he hoped she would have no problems.
Hallie had been gone but a few minutes when two women in exquisite gowns made their way from the ladies’ room to their respective niches around the perimeter. Their faces wore identical expressions of contempt, with turned-up noses and turned-down lips, much to the Sheikh’s amusement.
By the time Hallie returned, happy but squirmy baby held tightly to observe the festivities, the dancing had begun in earnest, and Karim was waiting. He stood, upon her approach, like the gentleman he was, and took the child from her.
“Aaron knows that it is I with the most expertise in this bottle business,” he assured her.
And so he was. With zero messing around, Aaron drained his eight ounces to the very end, in record time, even though he was nearly asleep at the end of it. Resetting the stroller to its down position, with the bonnet pulled out to shut out the softened overhead lights, Hallie settled him with his favorite stuffed bunny and a light blanket. The shoes and bowtie had long since been put aside; the little one would sleep in comfort, freed of confining clothing.
With a sigh, Hallie was about to take her own chair when Karim, rising, shook his head.
“Ah, no, no. I must insist upon at least one dance.”
“But we can’t—”
“But we can, my love. See?”
A smartly dressed young woman had stepped discreetly forward out of the shadows.
“Mr. and Mrs. Al Ahsan? I’m Tricia; I’ve been hired to help out with your baby tonight.”
“Oh.” Hallie cast an unhappy glance at the sweetly slumbering occupant of the stroller, insulated from the bright, noisy world around him. “Well, I—”
“I’ll sit right here with him, ma’am.” The girl, clearly understanding a mother’s fears, smiled. “You can check on him whenever you want, and I’ll get hold of you if I have any questions.” And, as Hallie still hesitated, “He’ll be fine; I assure you.”
“Join me on the dance floor, my dear wife,” Karim urged gently.
He stretched out one hand to take hers and pull her forward, toward him, straight into his arms. He noticed that her fingers were cold, and trembling slightly. Still nervous? Still anxious?
“Let us try this foxtrot, yes?”
He was deliberately holding her close enough that she could whisper a protest.
“But we haven’t practiced this at all! I haven’t danced in a long time; I’ll make us look like idiots.”
“No, Hallie, you’ll make yourself look like an idiot. I shall complain that I was but following your lead.”
She gulped. “Oh, now, wait a minute, that’s just—”
Letting loose that stunning smile and a chuckle, Karim suddenly swung her around in a couple of circles.
“There, you see.” He nuzzled against her ear where the diamond stud flashed. “It is called getting a taste of your own medicine, I believe, and you deserved it. Now. Come with me.”
A foxtrot can be a fairly simple dance, or it can turn out to be quite complicated, depending on the ability of the partners involved. This was the simple kind, and as he maneuvered her easily around and between the other couples, he could feel her beginning to relax in his arms. Her body, as she grew more comfortable with the routine and matched her steps to his, felt as light and flexible as a feather. No matter if they hadn’t practiced; she was a natural.
Hallie spoke just once, in her usual, sarcastic manner: “Glad to see all those years of dance lessons paid off.”
Chuckling at the beautiful woman in his arms, he pivoted her out into a spin that was nearly successful. Except that Hallie tripped—one foot over the other on the return—and literally fell into his waiting embrace.
Halted, they stared at each other, and then both burst into peals of delighted laughter that attracted the attention—some welcome and sympathetic, some not so much—of others on the floor.
“Well done,” he said approvingly as they took up position once more. “Would you like to try something more daring?”
“As long as it isn’t the tango, buster. I’m not about to throw one leg over your shoulder and be dragged around like a cave woman.”
How could he have been so fortunate? How had karma smiled so sweetly upon him?
One casual, unthinking remark on his part, to a businessman who seemed to remember every word from his opponents, in a particularly unguarded moment, had set into action a whole chain of events. Most notable of which was the purely accidental meeting with Hallie Jameson, and the highly unusual arrangement to which she had finally, reluctantly, consented.
Yet she was, at present, following their agreement to the letter. More than. He could see the admiration and envy on many guests’ faces, men and woman alike. Not that he needed approval from anyone for any of his actions, once he had set his mind to it. But it was gratifying, too, to realize that this young lady could take her place with any group, in any situation, and hold her own.
Again, fortunate indeed. She was all he could have wished for to complete his weekend fantasy, and more.
Even as he circled slowly with her in the semi-darkened ballroom, his gaze sought out the baby sleeping so peacefully in the stroller. Perfect. Everything had gone perfectly. Not a hitch in the hasty plans, thanks to his remarkable faux wife.
A slower two-step came along, in the form of some sweet romantic ballad he didn’t recognize. It did, however, give him the excuse to pull Hallie just a little closer, enough to smell the fragrance of her shampoo and whatever perfume she had applied, enough to feel her warmth and suppleness molding to his own frame.
He wished the dance could go on forever.
The music stopped all too soon, leaving Hallie, he noticed, blinking slowly, as if coming awake from some wonderful dream. As they were applauding, Chip Griffin approached to ask Hallie if he might steal her husband away for just a few minutes.
“Oh. Why, certainly.” She seemed somewhat dazed. “Jaali, shall I—”
“Jolly?” queried the older man, puzzled.
Karim shot Hallie a look of utter astonishment. Fancy her remembering such a miniscule fact, and then bringing it out so casually, at the perfect moment.
“It is not quite what you’re hearing, sir. One of my family names, that—”
“I’ve taken for a pet name,” Hallie finished, flashing a smile as brilliant as the pendant in her cleavage, as she slipped her arm through his. “It means fearless. Suits him, don’t you think?”
Chip chortled. “It does, indeed. Now, regarding the thing I wanted to talk to you about—”
“A moment, sir, if you please. Will you join me while I walk Hallie to our table?”
He left her settled with the baby and the nanny, watching the round of beautifully gowned dancers swirling in a waltz, much like some movie set with backdrop of twinkling lights and stardust. Before he turned away, however, Karim took her hand in his to lift to his lips. A sweet gesture, and one that sparked warmth somewhere deep in her middle.
“That’s a fine little family you have there, my friend,” Chip commented as they strolled toward the edge of the crowd.
Was Karim to feel compunction now, for what he had done? It seemed such a small wrong, in light of so
many greater sins that were punishing the world—corporate, personal, environmental. Surely, Karim’s very minor falsehood could not compare to the other ills generated by mankind.
Yet, it was true that something less than pleasant was niggling in the back of his brain and, more importantly, in his gut.
It is not an easy thing, to be confronted by one’s conscience while at the same time being confronted by the person about whom that conscience is rebelling. Had he, somewhere along the line, lost faith in his own ability, simply because of a stupid, astronomically bizarre, and unnecessary remark?
“It is, indeed, a fine family,” agreed Karim quietly, as the elder man led him through a hallway and up a flight of stairs. “And I thank you. We are fortunate, you and I, to have found ourselves such extraordinary women.”
And what will you do, some inner imp of mischief snickered, if the founder of Griffin Oceanic decides to visit his old holdings one day, only to find that your supposed family has conveniently and unexpectedly disappeared?
That might have been Hallie’s mocking voice he heard.
Karim didn’t generally consume much alcohol. Now, he did, taking a large gulp of the excellent bourbon a bartender had poured, at Griffin’s direction, downstairs. Mellow, yet with a seductive underlying flavor, it should have calmed his nerves more than it did.
“How long did you say you’d been married, son?”
Following the older man’s example, Karim also seated himself in one of the cushy leather chairs provided for private conversation.
“I’m not sure if I mentioned it, sir. But it’s been about a year and a half now.”
“Huh. And little Aaron is nine months old? Didn’t waste any time, now, did you?”
From someone else, the question would have been offensive. From Chip Griffin, however—this white-haired gentleman whose complexion resembled that of a weathered, pink-cheeked fisherman—somehow, the words sounded as complimentary as they were meant.
“So, that makes your wedding anniversary in January?”
What exactly was the man getting at? Was he feeling suspicious of the setup? Had some sixth sense warned him that all was not as it should be with this young couple? Or, was he just trying to pin Karim down with a few more relevant facts?
“January 3, Mr. Griffin. We decided to start the New Year with a celebration, as you Americans like to do.”
“Huh.” Considering that, Chip took another sip from his own highball glass. Ice cubes clinked. “Didn’t know you were in the States at that time.”
“We were, but we flew to an island off the coast of my home country for the ceremony. Very small, just family.” I was not aware you were keeping track! “As you know, my private jet is always at my disposal.”
“Oh, you folks and your air travel, always in a hurry.” Griffin chuckled. “So.” From the motion of his forefinger, circling around the rim of the glass, came a soft squeaking sound, like bats settling under a roof. “You think you’re a good father, Karim?”
“I try to be.” Karim’s voice was cool, slightly stiff.
“Well, that’s all any of us can do, is to try. I thought I was doin’ my best, but…” Regret tinged Chip’s voice. “Reckon I was gone too much, making a damned good livin’ for all of us. You’ve seen tonight where that got me with my sons. Sometimes, I feel like they’re strangers to me.”
“But that’s the main reason you are selling your company, is it not?” Karim asked cautiously. “Neither of your sons showed any interest in carrying on in your footsteps; both prefer to make their own way. And perhaps that shows how well you’ve done, after all, that they want to be independent and seek a different path from yours.”
The lamplight in the small, intimate room had been deliberately softened to exude mellow circles of burnished gold. Chip’s craggy brows cast a shadow over deep-set eyes as he studied the younger man.
“Huh. Hadn’t really figured on that part of it. You’re a deep thinker, aren’t you?”
Karim shrugged.
“I take little credit for my philosophy, much of which was taught by my parents and more of which was taught by university professors. But we all must accept these invaluable lessons as they come along, must we not?”
Again, that silent, jeering snort of laughter in the back of his brain. Had he been taught to be a hypocrite, as well?
Perhaps not. But he had been taught to keep his guard up, always. To play his cards close to his chest. That it is vitally important to present a bold, brave front, to allow no vulnerability to be shown, to keep outsiders at arm’s length, to remain ever-vigilant against any closeness or familiarity.
On some level, his feeling of confidence weakened, and he became uneasy.
Chip Griffin, although he had spent his evening dining and drinking heavily, seemed to sense that this interview with his guest had gone on too long. Shifting position, he drained his glass and assured the buyer of his company that—as far as he was concerned—their business had been satisfactorily concluded.
“I’ll inform my lawyer that we can go ahead, get the contract finalized, and sign, seal, and deliver the last of the documents. That okay by you?”
Again, that piercing look from under shaggy brows.
Immensely relieved, Karim reached across the few inches between their chairs to shake the older man’s hand.
“That is absolutely okay. You will let me know, then, when I should arrive at the office to add my signature?”
“Yup. I think we’ve got ourselves a done deal, son. If…” He trailed off.
“If?”
“Well, I ain’t gonna be hangin’ over your shoulder while you take this baby of mine on to the next level. But…I wouldn’t mind consultin’ with you once in a while, just to keep my hand in. It’s hard for an old workaholic like me to give it up completely.”
Karim’s charming smile assured his host that he absolutely understood.
“For me, as well—were I to give up all that I had worked for—it would be a daunting task.”
Never mind the worry of that thought about Griffin’s occasional presence around the company he was about to sell, and possibly around Karim Al Ahsan, as well. And as for Hallie and Aaron? Well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
“We might be from two different continents, two different cultures, two different eras,” Griffin said with a brisk nod, “but we are alike in all the ways it counts. We’re men of our word.”
A wince, but not so harsh that it showed. The young sheikh, no matter how perturbed, could still keep those deeper feelings hidden, when necessary.
Griffin suddenly jumped to his feet.
“Well, son, I’m glad we had this little chat. Just wanted to do a little more in-depth conversin’, and you haven’t disappointed. Shall we go on back down now, and rejoin our beautiful wives?”
“But of course,” Karim replied, hoping the old man wouldn’t notice the crack in his voice.
Chapter 11
As they strolled into the ballroom, chatting of odds and ends, Karim’s heart lightened to see Hallie sitting patiently at their table. Her posture was at ease; her expression was calm, friendly, and interested. Next to her perched Annemarie, with an alert and squirmy baby upon her lap, his big brown eyes gazing around. With his wavy hair flattened on one side from his nap, and one cheek slightly flushed and lined from the blanket’s wrinkles, he appeared in fine temperament.
As did Hallie. She looked up with a welcoming smile as Karim approached. And she put everything into that smile: a widening and brightening of those long-lashed green eyes, a flash of hidden dimples, a chin lifted to show off the brilliant pendant at her throat.
Her reaction to his reappearance made him feel oddly…touched?
“Have you gentlemen discussed every last bit of business?” Annemarie lightly inquired.
“Until the next time,” Chip teased. “My dear, it’s so lovely, seein’ you with a baby on your knee.”
“This child has excellent taste
; I believe his parents have taught him well.” Annemarie grinned impishly. “He keeps trying to grab my diamond necklace to chew on.”
“Ah, well, perhaps he would like to judge its quality. Is our nanny no longer in residence?” the Sheikh asked, looking around.
“Nanny, pooh. I sent her to the kitchen for a late supper. Once Aaron woke up hungry, I couldn’t wait to feed him and change him and hold him a while.”
“Just like the old days, hey, Annie?” Her husband couldn’t have been more proud of her remembered skills if he’d taken them on himself.
“I tried not to let her; honestly, I did,” said Hallie, a trifle worried. “Spills, you know, and stains, and drools. All on that beautiful dress. But your wife is a strong-willed woman, Chip.”
Towering above her, hands comfortably in his pockets, Griffin laughed with good humor. “That she is, Hallie. I’ve had thirty years of finding out just how strong-willed she is. Actually, to tell the truth, this lady is damned stubborn. So, honey—” he leaned forward just a bit, and lowered his voice, “—any response from those sons of ours?”
“As to giving us grandchildren, you mean?” Annemarie’s gaze immediately sought out the boys, who were still on the dance floor, and she shook her head. “No such luck. In fact, they looked a bit put out that I was even spending time with this little guy. As if it were some sort of imposition, or something.”
As Chip let out a heavy sigh, rocking back and forth on his well-shod feet, from heel to toe and back again, Hallie reached across to lay a sympathetic hand on her hostess’s wrist.
“There’s always hope,” she said softly.
“You’re right. We mustn’t ever give up hope.”
A minute or two passed, with each lost in his or her thoughts, while the music swelled around them. The selections to be heard, as well as some of the movements to be seen, left a few of the more mature attendees raising their brows and returning to their drinks.