by Holly Rayner
She wasn't supposed to be in the booth while he was recording, but as she stumbled over to his chair and aimed her toy microphone up at him, he didn't get angry. He laughed and lifted her up into his lap. He introduced her to the listeners and kept her there until he finished the spot. He'd been angry later. He'd only taken it so well then because he was recording live and couldn't break character by chewing out his kid on the air.
But in the dream, she lingered there in his lap, leaning against his chest and listening to him talk, the smell of smoke clinging to his clothes, woody and romantic in her nose. His chest rumbled under her ear when he laughed, no sound of the cancer already spreading roots there. In the dream, she could stay there forever, long after the news of the day had been delivered, falling asleep in her father's lap.
Her alarm interrupted the rosy memory with a truly forgettable pop song blasting loud enough to force her out of the safe comfort of her blankets to banish it.
Tessa stumbled into her apartment an hour later as Kathy was pouring them both a cup of coffee, her hair wrapped in a towel still from her shower. They'd started having breakfast together when Tessa had moved into the same condominium a few years ago, and it had become a reliable ritual. Kathy had left the cereal out for her friend.
"So, do you think you're going to see him again?" Tessa asked as they enjoyed their morning caffeine.
"I don't think so," Kathy said, shaking her head. "Honestly, I'm surprised he's still interested after how I acted."
"You don't have that long to find someone," Tessa reminded her. "If you're serious about doing this, maybe you should keep your options open."
"Maybe," Kathy conceded with reluctance, contemplating the swirls of creamer in her coffee.
"Well, it won't hurt you to leave him hanging for a few days," Tessa reassured her. "Just take your time. You could still choose not to do this at all."
"I have to," Kathy said, reasserting it to herself as much as to Tessa.
"It's just money," Tessa reminded her.
"It's not about the money," Kathy said. "Not really. It's the family house, too. And…and it's my dad's last wish."
"Who you didn't like or talk to for years." Tessa sipped her coffee, unimpressed.
"He's still my dad," Kathy huffed.
"I just don't want you to do this for the sake of a man you spent most of your life avoiding," Tessa said seriously.
"That's why I have to do it," Kathy said, struggling to explain. "We never got through to each other. Even at the end, we couldn't connect. I feel like, if I don't do this, this thing he thought was so important he was willing to bet everything on it… I don't know. I'll never get closure."
"Closure is kind of overrated in my opinion," Tessa said with a sigh, sitting back and putting down her coffee. "But whatever floats your boat, hun."
"I need to get to work," Kathy said, checking the time on her phone. "I'll text you later."
"Yeah, you still have to give me the details of what happened with Richard!" Tessa pointed out, but Kathy was already dumping the dregs of her coffee in the sink and grabbing her purse.
Kathy continued texting Tessa over the course of the day, the other woman dragging the details of the date out whenever Kathy stopped between messages. Tessa worked freelance from home and could keep up a text conversation all day, and Kathy liked to have something to do when the cameras were off of her, so they tended to stay in communication more or less constantly.
Okay, so Dick isn't an option, Tessa wrote once she'd had the full play-by-play of the date. It was nearly the end of the day, and Kathy was in makeup for the last major spot. She focused on her phone while the stylists touched her up for the hundredth time that day.
Let's review the other men you've gone out with recently. Coffee shop guy. Paul?
No stable job, Kathy texted back. Taking a year to work on his screenplay. Plus, one of his other girlfriends showing up at our first date kind of killed my interest.
Okay, who was before that? Tessa asked.
The three stooges from that awful dating website. One was about ten years older than his profile pictures, one was a militant vegan, and one was a self-proclaimed recovered sex-addict. No thanks.
Yeah, gross, Tess agreed. Before that you tried dating at work, right?
Yeah, Ben the camera guy who wanted to film everything, Owen the meteorologist who realized he was gay, and co-anchor Colin.
What happened with Colin again? He seemed nice.
He was. Working together while dating was just too weird. It ended on good terms at least.
Okay, so work is out, that dating site is definitely out, coffee shops and my yoga class connections are a gamble. What next?
Kathy sighed, leaning back in the makeup chair as a stylist surrounded her in a choking cloud of hair spray. She thought for a moment before typing back.
I don't know, Tess, she sent, leaving it at that.
You could always give up, Tessa reminded her. There's no shame in it.
Kathy started to reply when the stylist slipped and jabbed her with the mascara. Kathy, more startled than hurt, yelped and dropped her phone.
“Shoot, sorry!" the stylist apologized quickly, hurrying to clean up the mess on Kathy's cheek. “Are you okay?”
"It's fine," Kathy said quickly, waving her away as she leaned down to get her phone. "I'm all right. I'm more worried about my phone, honestly."
It had hit the concrete floor, hard. She winced looking at the dented edge and newly cracked screen. She restarted it, hoping it would turn on.
"I'm so sorry," the stylist said, mortified. "I'll pay for a new one."
"That's not necessary," Kathy reassured her. "Really, it's okay. I've been wanting to upgrade anyway. Don't worry about it. Let's just finish up."
Kathy was relieved when her phone successfully started up. It looked like just the screen had broken and nothing internal, though she had to squint to see through the cracks. Impatiently, she returned to her messaging app and jabbed at Tessa's name.
I've got to have a baby, Kathy wrote. But with the way these dates have gone, I might as well be trying with you.
It wasn't until she hit send that, through the web of cracks across the top half of her screen, she realized she couldn't see Tessa's previous messages. She tried to scroll up, frowning. Was her phone freaking out after all? It was like all her conversation history with Tessa had been erased. Like the phone thought she was messaging someone she'd never—
Kathy felt her heart stop as, through the obfuscating tangle of broken glass, she realized the name at the top of the messaging app was not Tessa. It was Tehar.
She shoved her phone in her pocket, gripping the arms of the makeup chair like she was about to go flying out of it. Her heart was in her throat trying to strangle her. She had just sent her boss an out of context demand to have a baby.
"Are you okay?" the stylist asked as Kathy suddenly slumped forward and put her head on the vanity. "Did I hurt you after all?"
"I just need a minute," Kathy said, her voice cracking. "Please go tell production to keep going without me. I'll be there as soon as I can."
The stylist hurried off, clearly worried, and Kathy took a minute to take several deep breaths until she could think straight again. This was fine. Absolutely mortifying, but it was just an accident. Tehar would understand. She'd go clear up the misunderstanding right now and everything would be fine. They'd laugh about it, probably! It's not like he was the type to fire a woman because he found out she was trying to get pregnant. Or at least, she really hoped he wasn't.
She planted her hands on the vanity and forced herself up and onto her feet. She just had to march in there and apologize. He probably hadn't even seen the text yet! She'd just tell him what had happened. He wouldn't even care! Or, he'd fire her immediately, maybe.
She was standing in front of the door to his office well before she felt ready. But she needed to get back to the set—if she wasn't about to be fired, anyway. She didn't have time to stand aroun
d worrying. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and pushed it open.
The office was empty. She made a distressed noise, looking around like he might be hiding in a corner. Where was he?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and cold dread gathered in a clammy sweat on the back of her neck. She took out her phone, squinting past the broken glass.
We need to talk about this, the text from Tehar read. Will you have dinner with me this evening?
Panic opened up like a yawning chasm in her chest and swallowed her up.
Sure! she texted back. Is eight good for you?
When he confirmed it, she stumbled numbly back out of the office and onto the set, falling into her seat behind the news desk. The rest of the day passed in a wide-eyed blur as she struggled to remain calm and pay attention to what was going on around her instead of the wild panic flailing like a trapped bird in her chest.
As much as she wanted to tell herself that, logically, this had been a mistake and she couldn't possibly be fired for it, the strangeness of Sheikh Tehar's dinner invitation was too pronounced to ignore. She'd never even spoken with the man outside of work. Whatever was going on, he'd clearly taken it as more than just a joke or a mistake. As much as she wanted to focus on her work when this could possibly be her last day, she couldn't stop thinking about the text and how she was going to explain it.
The most humiliating thing was that she'd embarrassed herself in front of the Sheikh specifically after he'd been so kind to her yesterday. If she'd sent something so mortifying to Mitchell or one of the producers, it would have been terrible, and she'd probably still be fired, but to do something so mortifying with Tehar was nearly unbearable.
Work couldn't end soon enough.
As soon as the cameras were off, she rushed to finish up and all but fled the studio, leaving everyone perplexed as to what had happened to her. At home, she scrambled to change, blind panic leaving her confused about where to even find her clothing. She was sitting on her bed in a daze when Tessa knocked on the door.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked as she let herself in. "You haven't answered your phone all afternoon."
"Broke it," Kathy replied, holding out the shattered device. She'd been holding it absentmindedly since work had finished, trying to figure out what to do. She barely looked at Tessa, her expression as blank with panic as her thoughts.
"Whoa, what's wrong?" Tessa sat down next to Kathy, putting the phone aside when she saw how obviously distraught the other woman was. "You can't be that upset about a broken phone."
Kathy shook her head. "Look at the messages."
Tessa frowned but obediently picked up the phone to scroll through Kathy's recent messages. She struggled at first trying to see through the cracks, but Kathy saw her eyes widen as she figured it out.
"Oh my God," she muttered, putting a hand over her mouth. Then she snickered.
"This isn't funny, Tess!" Kathy said, offended. "He wants to see me tonight! I'm going to lose my job!"
"You're not going to lose your job," Tessa reassured her, still giggling. "There's no way he'd fire you over something so silly. It was just a stupid accident."
"You don't know that!" Kathy said, frustrated. "Sheikh Tehar's image is spotless. He has zero tolerance for this kind of thing, especially right now when the company is still recovering from a scandal!"
"It's fine," Tessa insisted, reaching out to take Kathy by her trembling shoulders. "It's not like you CC'd the press. It was a silly mistake."
"Then why does he want to meet me in an hour?" Kathy demanded.
"I don't know." Tessa rolled her eyes. "Maybe he wants details on who you were actually trying to proposition. Maybe he just thinks you're cute."
"Unlikely."
"I know you have a crush on him," Tessa pointed out. "This is a perfect opportunity to see if he feels the same."
"He doesn't."
"Well, now you can know for sure. Come on, I'll help you get dressed."
Chapter Five
Tessa's encouragement, despite Kathy's very real fears, did help her calm down. Tessa helped her pick out a black dress, leaning more towards professional than flirtatious on Kathy's insistence. As much as Tessa (and secretly Kathy as well) might have wanted this to be a date, there was a much more significant possibility that it was work-related. And if she was about to be reprimanded for sending inappropriate texts at work, it was probably best not to show up in something with a neckline deeper than its hem.
Still, she applied her makeup carefully and wore her best earrings in the secret hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't what she thought it was.
"You look great," Tessa said as Kathy gave herself one last critical look-over in the mirror. "If he didn't mean this as a date before, he'll change his mind as soon as he sees you."
"As long as he doesn't fire me, I don't care what happens," Kathy said, trying to convince herself as much as Tessa.
"Text me and let me know how it goes," Tessa demanded as Kathy headed out the door. "And make sure you send it to the right person this time!"
Kathy waved goodbye to her friend and headed out to wait for the taxi. She wasn’t sure how the evening was going to go and worried she might need to drown her sorrows in a glass of wine or three if she did end up being fired.
She'd agreed to meet Tehar at the restaurant, but she hadn't recognized the name of the place and she was surprised to find the directions she looked up would be taking her downtown, right to the coast. The restaurant, it turned out, was attached to a five-star luxury hotel. It was a beautiful modern building, the unusually-shaped front paneled in what looked like oxidized copper, which lit up golden and green in the early evening lights.
Somewhat unsure of herself, Kathy felt her confidence drop lower as the cab approached the restaurant, seeing the men in suit jackets and women in fine gowns seated within. She was glad she'd decided to dress up, but she still felt outclassed. She hadn't been expecting something this fancy for what was, in her estimation, most likely a firing.
Sheikh Tehar was waiting for her out front and smiled when he saw her, much more warmly than she'd expected.
"Sorry, I hope I didn't keep you waiting," Kathy said as she got out of the taxi, tipping the driver quickly, and approaching him. He was wearing a clean, loose white suit which further enhanced his dark features. He made it look incredible.
"You're right on time," he assured her. "And you look stunning. I hope you don't mind eating here. It's a favorite of mine."
"It looks a bit out of my price range," Kathy admitted, a little embarrassed.
"Oh, don't be silly, I'm paying of course," Tehar said at once. "You're here on my insistence after all. Shall we go in?"
He offered her his arm, gesturing to the doors with the other, and Kathy accepted, suddenly unsure what to expect. Inside, he didn't give anyone his name but simply nodded to the maître d’, who seemed to recognize him on sight and guided them at once to an open table in a private corner of the balcony, sheltered by a screen of ornately inscribed steel and a host of fragrant green decorative plants.
Once seated, they were hidden entirely from the rest of the restaurant, left alone with the incredible view of the bay and the Miami skyline. Kathy didn't think she'd ever eaten anywhere so beautiful.
"The Grand tasting, please," Tehar ordered as they sat. "Wine pairings included. I called ahead to the kitchen about my guest's dietary restrictions. Make certain they know this is the Sheikh's table and nothing is to come in contact with seafood."
The maître d’ murmured his polite assurances that it would be done and vanished off to the kitchens.
"I eat here often," Tehar said, settling into his seat and unfolding his napkin. "You have nothing to worry about. The chef is a master at what she does. Nothing gets past her."
"I doubt I'd have the courage to say anything if it did," Kathy replied, a bit intimidated. "This place is gorgeous. Way out of my league."
"Nonsense," Tehar declared with implacable certa
inty. "A woman like you makes any environment conform to her. You look perfectly at home here, as you would anywhere."
It was probably the most thoughtful and specific compliment Kathy had ever received from a man, and he'd delivered it so offhandedly he might as well have been commenting on the weather. Kathy found herself uncharacteristically flustered. This was not going at all how she'd expected it to.
The first course of what, it turned out, was an eight-course service, arrived quickly. The waiter called it a Salad of Holland. It was white asparagus touched with a surprisingly sweet crème fraîche and decorated with slivers of orange zest and tiny sprigs of basil. It was beautiful to look at, if rather confusing to Kathy's inexperienced palate to taste. A moment later, the sommelier arrived with a young Grüner Veltliner which was more to her liking. The plate itself was only a few bites, and she sipped her wine as she waited for the next one.
"So, you're probably wondering why I asked you here tonight," Tehar said over his own wine.
"I was wondering how to bring it up," Kathy confessed. "I assume it's about the text?"
Tehar nodded, and Kathy felt her face redden and she fought the urge to drain her wine glass. She sat back in her chair, trying to sink into herself.
"I wanted to tell you I accept your proposal."
Kathy nearly choked on her drink.
"Pardon me?" she asked, sputtering. She couldn't have heard him right.
"I would be happy to father a child with you," Tehar said, cool and formal as ever.
Kathy knew on some level that she must have looked like a slack-jawed idiot, mouth open and face blistering with embarrassment.
"Sir, that was," she stammered, searching for an explanation. "That was an accident. I was trying to text my friend. I would never—"
He held up a hand to stop her and her mouth shut instantly.
"I am not an idiot, Miss Burgess," he said.
"Please, call me Kathy," she interrupted before she could stop herself.
"Kathy," Tehar corrected himself graciously. "I am aware the text was not meant for me. But I empathize with the sentiment regardless. Are you aware of where I come from?"