by Jackie Braun
“I believe our city has two million fewer residents than yours does, but yes, it’s similar. I think that is why Madani feels so at home in both places.”
A dozen questions bubbled to mind—not about the country, but about the man. She bit them back and listened instead as Azeem noted some sites of interest. The last one he pointed out, however, left them both frowning.
“Down that street is the large park where much of the festivities will be held, including the food tents.” More quietly, he added, “It also is where Madani’s parents will announce his betrothal on the final night.”
This time, Emily wasn’t able to suppress the question that most weighed on her mind. “Is he happy, Azeem?”
“Are you happy?”
Emily blinked, as surprised by his question as the knowing look in his eyes.
“What reason would I have to be otherwise?”
“The same reason as Madani perhaps?”
When they arrived at the palace a few minutes later, Emily’s nerves were jangling. The time was at hand. But when she entered a grand hall with mosaic tiled floors and arched ceilings, Madani wasn’t there to greet her. Emily chided herself for thinking he would be. A sheikh, one whose engagement was soon to be announced, surely had better things to do with his time than meet the hired help.
“If you will come this way.” Azeem led her down a corridor to a cozier room set up with comfortable chairs and sofas that were upholstered in rich hues. Three women were inside. Was it Emily’s imagination, or did the young one smile sadly at Azeem?
One of the older women stretched out her hand in the standard Western greeting and confirmed Emily’s worst nightmare when she said in perfect English, “I am Fadilah Tarim, Madani’s mother. Welcome to Kashaqra, Miss Merit.”
“Thank you.” Should she bow, curtsy, genuflect? Even as Emily contemplated proper protocol, Madani’s mother was introducing the others.
“This is Nawar, my son’s bride-to-be. And Nawar’s mother, Bahira.”
All of them were lovely and fashionably attired. Emily felt frumpy in her wrinkled rose blouse and camel trousers. For one terrifying moment, Emily wondered if she was going to be ill, but she managed to hold down the contents of her stomach and offered a weak smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you and may I offer my congratulations?”
She thanked her lucky stars they also spoke English since her grasp of Arabic was severely limited.
“Thank you.” Nawar nodded. Her smile was sweet, but again seemed sad. “Of course, it is not official yet.”
“It will be soon enough.” This from Bahira.
Nawar’s complexion paled. Apparently Emily wasn’t the only one suffering from nausea.
“Our chef has prepared several of the recipes you sent in advance of your arrival. My son is critical of his results. He says you are a much better cook.”
“That’s too kind.”
“We are pleased you could come and lend your expertise to this year’s feast,” Fadilah said.
“Yes, especially given its added significance.” Bahira eyed Emily with unabashed speculation, before saying something rather heated in Arabic.
Madani’s mother flushed, whether out of embarrassment or anger, Emily wasn’t sure. She smiled tightly. “You must excuse my friend. In her excitement she has forgotten to use English.”
Bahira was undeterred. “I said I am surprised to find that the chef Madani insisted on is so young and attractive.”
It was Emily’s face that heated this time. “I am highly regarded in New York. If references would put you at ease about my qualifications, I will gladly supply them.”
“That will not be necessary,” Fadilah inserted with finality. To the other matron she said, “Young women, attractive or otherwise, pursue professions and often rise to the top, Bahira. It is unfair to discount Miss Merit’s abilities based solely on her appearance.”
“You are right, Fadilah.” Nawar’s mother tipped her head to one side as if in concession, but her gaze remained cold.
“We won’t keep you, Miss Merit,” Fadilah said. “You must be tired after your long flight. I will ring for a maid to take you to your room. If there is anything you need, simply ask.”
The only thing Emily needed was a stiff drink. She’d made a mistake by coming here, a huge one. She’d thought she could be professional, concentrate on the contract between her and Madani and forget about the contract between his family and Nawar’s. But as she’d looked into the lovely face of his bride-to-be, all she could think was, Madani loves me.
This was ten times more painful than staying in Manhattan, outfitting herself in peach organdy and watching Reed marry Elle.
Forget her career. Forget closure and sucking out venom. She couldn’t do this.
Madani paced his rooms with the desperation of a caged animal. Emily was under the same roof as he was and as far away as ever. He could not go to her, not even on the pretext of welcoming her to his homeland. A knock interrupted his thoughts. He answered the door to find his mother standing on the other side. One look at her expression and he knew whatever she had to say was not going to be pleasant.
“The American chef you hired is a woman!” she shouted, sweeping into the room with her arms crossed and her eyes flashing. “A young and beautiful woman.”
“That makes her no less capable.”
Her head jerked in a nod. “The very thing I told Bahira when she commented on it. But I doubt my assurances stopped her concern. Nor will they stop the rumors that are bound to swirl. What possessed you to do this, Madani?”
“She is an excellent chef. Brilliant. You will see when you sample her work. She will put Riyad’s cooking to shame. She is beyond compare.”
“There is something you are not telling me,” Fadilah accused. Then her tone turned pleading. “Madani, your engagement is to be announced soon. Now is not the time for…for…indiscretions.” She waved one delicate hand.
He reached for it, squeezed it. “I am not being indiscreet. That I can promise you.”
Fadilah freed her hand from his to lay it against his cheek as she had often done when he was a child. It could not soothe the ache he felt now.
“But you have feelings for this woman that go beyond professional.”
“I will marry Nawar as is expected. I will not do anything to upset Father.”
She frowned at that. “Your father is fine. His health is far from fragile these days.”
“And it will stay that way.”
Fadilah turned to leave. She stopped at the door. “This Emily Merit, who is she to you, Madani?”
“She is…” The woman I want to wake up to after a long night of lovemaking. The woman whose mind I want a chance to change about marriage and children. The woman whom in a very short amount of time I have come to love beyond all reason. But he shook his head, denying his desire, denying his heart. “It doesn’t matter. She can be no one to me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EMILY found her way to the palace kitchen the following morning. She would leave as soon as it could be arranged. Before then, she would do her best to see that the feast preparations were under way.
She was showing the palace chef her technique for making an apple almond tart’s thick crust when Madani’s mother entered.
“Riyad.” Fadilah smiled at the heavy-set man. “I need to speak to Miss Merit in private. Will you leave us for a moment?”
When he was gone, Emily dusted flour from her hands and waited. It was a moment before Fadilah said, “I have a problem, Miss Merit. It involves my son.”
That made two of them. Striving for nonchalance, Emily said, “He is well, I hope?”
“Physically, yes. Emotionally, Madani is…confused.” Fadilah fussed with the elaborately embroidered sleeve of her dress, giving her words time to sink in. “All of Kashaqra will soon learn of his betrothal to Nawar. Though the announcement will be made officially, it has been common knowledge among many of our people for years. He may have mentioned to
you that the agreement between our families was made when he was a young boy and Nawar a baby.”
“He mentioned it.”
Fadilah nodded. “He has, most inconveniently, I might add, met someone. I think he believes himself to be in love with this woman. I think perhaps she may even have tender feelings for him.”
“I do,” she replied honestly. “But you needn’t worry. I am not here to try to stop anything.”
“Then why did you come?” The question seemed more like a challenge.
Emily didn’t want to discuss the feelings that had brought her here, so she only said, “Business. I was hired to help prepare the feast. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“Madani mentioned that you run a successful catering company in Manhattan.” Fadilah motioned toward the tart crust on which Emily and Riyad had been working. “Having sampled some of your work this past week, I see that my son did not overstate your skill.”
“Thank you. I am opening a restaurant, too.”
“I would imagine doing so takes a lot of money, especially in Manhattan.”
“It does.” Emily notched up her chin and said, “That’s another reason I’m here.”
“But those aren’t the only reasons, are they?” Fadilah’s gaze was shrewd.
“No. I wanted to see Kashaqra.”
Fadilah’s brow puckered. “Why?”
“It’s…it’s Madani’s home, part of who he is.”
“You wanted to see my son again.”
“One last time, yes,” Emily admitted around the lump in her throat.
Fadilah studied her for a maddening moment, before saying, “In many ways, Miss Merit, I am a businesswoman, too. My family is my business. And so I have an offer to make you.”
“An offer?”
“I will pay you triple the amount you’ve been promised if you leave Kashaqra in the morning.”
Though she’d already planned to leave, Emily’s stomach knotted. “I signed a contract with your son.”
“Contracts can be broken. Think about it and give me your answer later today.”
As she stared at the door through which Fadilah had left, Emily knew contracts weren’t the only things that could be broken.
It was madness, but when Madani spied Emily in the courtyard garden later that day, his resolve to stay away from her fled. As she admired the lush blooms on one of his mother’s rosebushes, she looked incredibly beautiful and deeply troubled.
“Hello, Emily.”
She started at the sound of his voice. “Madani. I wasn’t expecting… It’s lovely out here.”
“My mother’s doing. She tends the rosebushes herself.”
“Yes, she’s very hands-on,” Emily murmured.
He wasn’t sure what she meant by the comment. In any event, he had no desire to discuss his mother. Work seemed a safe topic, so he asked, “How is the restaurant? Any new developments there?”
“It’s funny you should mention that.”
When she would have dipped her head, he put his fingers beneath her chin and raised it. “You are happy, yes?”
She had to be happy. Knowing he was helping her dream materialize was the only thing that mitigated the torture he was experiencing having her so close.
“I thought I would be. I should be. The restaurant is what I’ve wanted, dreamed of. But…”
“But what?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Everything about you matters to me.”
She shook her head and pushed to her feet. “No. That’s just the sort of thing you can’t say. And it’s exactly why I must leave.”
“Leave?”
“I shouldn’t have come to Kashaqra. I thought I could do this.”
“Do what?”
“Put on a professional exterior, pretend my heart is not breaking. I can’t, because it is. It has been ever since Babs told me you’re going to marry someone else.”
“Oh, Emily.” How was it possible to be miserable and elated at the same time? Madani gave in to the need to touch her and reached for her hand. “I’ve missed you.”
“Don’t say that.” The demand lacked heat, but she pulled her hand free.
“I only speak the truth.”
“Lie to me!” she pleaded. “Don’t you get it, Madani? I don’t want the truth from you. That only makes it worse. Lie to me. Tell me you don’t think about me. Tell me you haven’t missed me. Lie,” she pleaded a second time.
“Why?”
She shook her head, backed up a step. The answer was there in her eyes, but he needed to hear the words.
He took both of her hands in his this time. “Say it. Just once. Tell me you’ve fallen in love with me. Say the words. Please.” They would have to sustain him for a lifetime.
“I love you,” she whispered brokenly. He swore her declaration echoed off the stone walls.
“Emily.” He tugged her into his arms and whispered her name a second time just before their mouths met. Need. Madani ached from it. But before he could lose himself in the kiss, she was pulling away.
“I can’t do this. I…can’t,” she cried miserably.
When she turned to leave, he let her.
Emily waited until her emotions were under control before requesting a meeting with Fadilah. Unfortunately only so much could be done with her red-rimmed eyes.
“You’ve accepted my offer,” the older woman deduced. Was it Emily’s imagination or did Fadilah look disappointed?
“Not exactly, but I do wish to return to Manhattan. Today. Or as soon as possible.”
“As soon as possible?” The other woman’s brows rose. “That can be arranged, of course, but I am curious. When I first broached the subject, you mentioned that you’d signed a contract with Madani. Does he know that you’ve changed your mind?”
“I…I think so.” Had she told him? Emily wasn’t sure. “Will you see to it that he knows?”
Fadilah’s disapproval was palpable. “Of course. What reason should I give for your hasty departure? I assume you will not want him to know of our earlier conversation.”
“My sister is getting married this weekend. I wasn’t planning to attend the ceremony.” To think, Emily had once thought attending would be too painful. “We had a falling out.”
“But now you have decided to make amends.”
“Yes. It will make my parents happy.”
Oddly, Fadilah frowned at that.
“I’m packed and I’ve left Riyad with step-by-step instructions on how to prepare the dishes that were selected for the feast. Everything will work out for the best.”
Fadilah’s frown deepened. “Perhaps. I will inform Azeem of your plans and have him bring a car around within the hour. Before you leave, I will give you the agreed upon funds.”
Emily rose. “Thank you, but that isn’t necessary.”
“Emily is gone?”
Madani stood in the doorway of his parents’ private sitting room. His parents had requested to see him. Of all the topics he’d thought they might want to discuss, Emily was not one.
“She left this evening for the airport. Her flight to Manhattan is probably boarding as we speak,” his mother said.
“But the feast starts in a matter of days.”
“Riyad will see to it,” Adil replied with a shrug.
Fadilah chuckled as she reached for a slice of pear. “He is more than happy to do so since he considered it an insult that you brought in an outsider in the first place.”
“But we had a contract,” he argued weakly.
“A lucrative one.” His mother smiled. “But I offered her more money to leave.”
“What!”
“Calm yourself. She didn’t take it.” Fadilah waved a hand. “Now, stop hovering in the doorway. Come sit down. We have much to discuss.”
Madani hadn’t even taken a seat yet when his father announced, “I’m disappointed in you.”
He landed heavily on the chair’s cushion. “I didn’t mean for this
to happen.”
“But it did and you said not a word. Indeed, you allowed the preparations for your engagement feast to continue, you even invited this young woman here to help with them.”
“I wanted to see her and I wanted her to see Kashaqra,” he explained, hoping to keep his father’s blood pressure low.
“Because you love her,” Adil said.
It was Madani’s heart that felt ready to give out now. “Yes.”
“Yet even now you would marry Nawar.” His father’s gaze narrowed.
“I…no. I cannot.” He split his gaze between his parents, waiting for the fallout, praying his father would remain calm.
Adil remained more than calm. He grinned. “Finally, my son, you are acting like a ruler.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Madani, I held firm on the marriage contract because I believed you would eventually come to love Nawar. She is, after all, a fine young woman and your arguments against the arrangement didn’t have anything to do with your heart. They do now.”
“Yes.”
“You love Emily.” Fadilah smiled. “And she loves you, too. Which is why she fled. Will you go after her?”
“But what about the feast? Nawar?”
“I think we can handle them, both. So?” Fadilah’s brows rose.
Madani’s response was to jump from his seat and bolt for the door.
Emily made it through the wedding ceremony, smiling as instructed during the hour-long photo shoot in the church afterward. Nothing could make her feel worse than she already did and that included wearing the hideous peach organdy dress whose puffy shoulders made her look as if she should be playing offense for the New York Jets.
At the reception, she raised her glass of champagne in toast to the new Mr. and Mrs. Reed Benedict and choked down the overcooked food, all while ignoring the pitying looks her aunts and cousins tossed her way.
The only thing that kept her from going insane was Donna’s presence. Her friend had insisted on coming with her. They were seated at separate tables for the meal due to Emily’s wedding party duties, but once the plates were cleared and the music started, she brought Emily a gin and tonic and hustled her to a secluded corner of the banquet hall. Music pulsed from the huge stereo speakers. But that wasn’t why Emily had a headache.