Milo stood up. “You’re finished, Brandt. And it’s entirely your own greed that’s done it. Security will be here soon to show you out.”
***
Ori smiled at her last customer of the day as they thanked her. She was pretty exhausted but something happy had settled inside her. She was a songwriter – not a star, not a commodity – but she was now able to feed that part of her psyche. She hadn’t realized she had missed it that much.
She switched off the coffee machine and went to lock the door when it was pushed open. Brandt stood in the doorway and immediately Ori’s stomach contracted.
The raw fury in his eyes was unmistakable.
“What are you doing here?” She cursed the way her voice shook.
He smiled but there was no humor in it. “Just taking care of loose ends.”
And he grabbed her.
***
Milo was pulling up the curb when he saw Yas banging on the door of the bookshop, her face stricken. He jumped from the car, his heart pounding.
“Yas?”
She turned, tears running down her face. “I can’t get in. Ori never locks it before I get home. I can hear screams, shouting – I think there’s someone in there, I think someone’s hurting her.”
Oh god no… Milo, without hesitation, threw himself against the door and broke it down. They both dashed in to find a wild, feral Brandt with his hands around Ori’s throat. She was fighting, clawing at him, but in the split second, before Milo leaped at Brandt, he could see she was hurt, weakening.
Milo pulled Brandt from his love and knocked him cold with one punch. He grabbed a lamp, tugging the cord around Brandt’s wrists and ankles, hog-tying the unconscious man. Yas rushed to Ori’s side. Ori was sitting up now, trying to get her breath. Milo’s stomach dropped at the sight of her throat, bruised and red, covered with bloody scratches. He took her in his arms while a shaking Yas called the police. Ori was trembling but she held him as tightly as he held her.
“I’m so sorry, baby…I’m so sorry…”
Ori kissed him. “I’m okay, it’s okay. It’s over, now….I love you….”
***
A year later….
They watched the ceremony, of course, blocking out the usual fluff of bad jokes and middling performance by making fun of the most ridiculous acts and cheering the winners they liked.
Orianthi Herd and Milo Shaw lazed about in his huge bed, naked limbs entwined. Milo kissed her and smiled down at her.
“You’re a Grammy winner twice over,” he said proudly. It was true – Ori and Rocky’s song Falling had been nominated in three categories, Song of the Year, Best Producers and Record of the Year. They’d swept the first two and Ori and Milo had cheered Rocky on as she headed for the stage in Los Angeles.
Ori had made it clear she didn’t want any of the spotlight but Rocky had years of experience and was happy to do the honors. Her heartfelt thank-you speech moved Ori to tears, especially when Rocky spoke of her love of her new writing partner. Milo hugged a choked-up Ori and smiled.
“You rock, baby.”
She grinned at him and wriggled underneath him. “You rock my world, Shaw.”
He groaned. “That was the cheesiest line ever.” He chuckled as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “You know something, Miss Herd?”
“What’s that?”
“You are the love of my life and I never want to be without you.”
She pressed her lips to his. “You never will be, my darling, darling man.”
“You and me forever.”
As they began to make love, their eyes met and locked and soon they were tumbling and loving and gasping so intensely, they completely missed the announcement of Record of the Year…
Neither of them cared…least of all the three-time Grammy winner…
THE END
The Sheikh's True Love
Chapter 1
“I’m sorry, Ms. Downing, but we will have to let you go,” the director of the nursing home, Ava Morrison, said.
Alexandra Downing had to stiffen her spine and lock her knees to keep from collapsing against the back of the chair. She had been worried, when her hours were first cut two weeks earlier, that something like this was going to happen, and she had been looking for work, with no success so far, ever since. However, to have it confirmed, that she was being ‘let go’ — code for ‘fired’ — was painful, and very deeply frightening to her. How was she to pay her bills, and feed herself and her four-year-old daughter Simone without a job? Where was she to live, without a job to pay the rent?
Swallowing the overwhelming urge to cry, Alex made her face expressionless and waited for the rest of the bad news.
“Please know that it isn’t because of anything that you’ve done wrong. You’ve been an exemplary worker from the beginning,” the woman was saying, her voice laced with sympathy, “and you know that if I could, I would not take such a course of action. But my hands are tied. The board of directors has instructed me to cut costs everywhere, including in all levels of staffing, and as you were the last nurse hired, you must be the first to go.”
Alex avoided the woman’s eyes, because she knew she wouldn’t be able to stem the tears if she saw pity in them. Instead, she looked down at her hands in her lap, still unable to find words. Ms. Morrison must have thought her silence odd as well, because she asked,
“Is there anything you want to ask, Ms. Downing?”
As a matter of fact, there were a number of things she wanted to ask. For example, what kind of reference would she really receive from them? Or, did she know of any other place where Alex could get work? Or what about, was there any vacancy in the kitchen? And how was she supposed to look after herself in this huge and impersonal city without a job? She asked none of those questions. Instead, she merely looked up and said,
“Thank you for the opportunity, Ms. Morrison. May I go now?”
This was standard operating procedure for Alex…when trouble came, she shut down emotionally, and disappeared into herself until she could see her way through. She would find her way through this. It wouldn’t be the first time she lost a job, although this time she had hoped that the job would last.
“Well, we expect you to finish the week,” the director said, looking at her sharply, as though Alex had asked to be given extra time off. “On Friday, you can submit your uniforms and the keys to me at the end of your shift.”
“Thank you.”
Alex stood up and turned to walk away, when the director stopped her.
“Just one more thing, Ms. Downing.” When Alex turned around, she continued, “Please do not discuss this with the other workers. We don’t wish to create panic. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
Alex nodded numbly and left, fighting the tears until she made it to the break room. Thankfully, no one was there, and she poured herself a cup of coffee and swallowed a huge mouthful without thinking, scorching her tongue and lips and throat. The tears overflowed then, and she reached up to wipe them away. Crying never helped. It just made her feel worse. Her life had been one disaster after another from the moment she had gotten drunk at her graduation party and slept with Simon Parker. One night, one mistake, and endless trouble thereafter. The only bright spot in the last four years was Simone, named for her father, who died on the night she was conceived, because he tried to drive himself home, and wrapped his car around a tree instead.
Focusing on that helped her regain her composure. Simon wasn’t here to worry about where his next paycheck was coming from. He lost his life that night. She could have lost hers, too, if she had been with him. She felt guilty for not having stopped him from driving drunk, and humiliated and ashamed of how her own drunkenness had left her almost incapacitated…except for opening her legs to a friend, something she would never have done when she was sober. She had never been drunk before, and the events and consequences of that night had cured her of the desire ever to be again.
The rest of her shift passe
d in a numb blur, and even when her workmate asked if she was all right, she heard her through the fog of her worry about what would happen in two days, when she was once again jobless. And to add to her misery, she was late picking up Simone from Pre-K because her last patient had had to be cleaned again after he vomited all over himself just before her shift ended. She arrived at the little private school, which she would no longer be able to afford unless she could get a job that paid as well a this one in the next two weeks, smelling faintly of vomit and antiseptic. And Simone was running a fever when she got there, which meant that unless her babysitter was available the next day, if the little girl wasn’t well, she would lose a day of work.
Struggling to keep the tears at bay, once she got home she made chicken soup, fed her baby as much as the little girl could take, along with some children’s meds for fever, gave her a tepid bath, and tucked her into bed. She turned on the monitor, which she only used now when Simone was ill, so she would hear her if she cried out. She knew that she would most likely end up sleeping in the bed with her daughter if she was very ill, which wasn’t a smart thing to do as a nurse in a nursing home. Pouring herself a cup of the chicken soup, she took up the papers and scanned the want ads, but nobody wanted a nurse. She stayed up far too late scouring the online job sites, and at midnight had still found nothing.
Next morning, Simone’s fever had not subsided, and her neighbor who normally babysat for her in an emergency was away for the rest of the week with her son and grandchildren. Reluctantly, she called in her absence, and sank back onto the chair at the kitchen table, fighting the tears. Since she was home, she cleaned, leaving the vacuuming until Simone woke up. She paused to deal with the child, giving her another tepid bath, and feeding her more medicine and soup. Then she parked her in the living room in front of the children’s offerings on the public television station while she did the rest of the house. Once the vacuuming was done, she dusted the little girl’s room, so that when she was ready to lie down again, her room would be done.
Thankfully, her daughter’s temperature seemed to be going down by late afternoon. She had been dreading having to take time from her last day of work to take her to the doctor if it had persisted. She did all the laundry, and even though she was exhausted by the end of the day, she knew she couldn’t give in to the urge to order in Chinese. Instead, she took a frozen pizza from the freezer, and while it was in the oven, she showered and changed into a ratty t-shirt and shorts. Simone managed to eat a half slice of the pizza, and Alex forced down a slice herself. Leaving the rest of the pizza covered up on the table, she washed the few things they had used, and then sat cuddling her daughter as they watched “Little House on the Prairie” together.
“Mommy, can I sleep with you tonight?” Simone asked, out of the blue.
Alex looked down at her. “Why? Do you still feel sick?”
“No, but I like it when we sleep like this,” she replied, and leaned her cheek on Alex’s breast, curling her body up into the couch.
Alex kissed her head, and let the tears slide down unchecked. Simone’s even breathing told her the child had fallen asleep, and she felt the whole weight of her situation crashing in around her. She could give notice, and live out her month’s security, so she would have a place to live while she searched for another job, but with the way things were, finding another one would be even harder this time than last time. Her savings were meager, because of the student loans she was still paying off, and she couldn’t ask anyone for help. She had no one, not even a best friend. She was alone in the world, aside from her baby.
Taking Simone to bed, after waking her up so she could use the bathroom, she went to her laptop and began another search. The Internet job sites she used were updated daily, and maybe she could find something. After searching for an hour and coming up blank, she was about to close down the search when an email popped up on her screen. Frowning, she went to her inbox and opened it. She didn’t recognize the sender, but the message caught her attention immediately.
Ms. Downing:
We found your resume on CareNet.org. Would you be interested in working with a single older client out of town? The salary would be commensurate with your experience, and all benefits would be included in the hiring package. We would like to set up an interview with you at your earliest convenience. This is an urgent case, and the courtesy of an immediate response is requested.
Malik Faisal
Personal Assistant
She read the message twice more, and checked her CareNet profile. She had had very few visitors in the month since she had created it, the most recent one being two hours ago. Maybe it was this Malik Faisal person. She wondered who he was the personal assistant to, and where out of town she would have to go to this job. Still, it was the first positive sign since she had begun to worry about losing her job, and she would not look a gift horse in the mouth. She fired off a reply immediately.
Mr. Faisal:
I will be available for an interview any time after tomorrow. Please let me know the time and location. Thank you.
Alexandra Downing
Feeling lighter, she crawled into her bed and fell asleep almost at once. Next morning, she over-slept, and had to hurry, once she had sorted out Simone. The bus to Simone’s school was late, and she was consequently late to work. Expecting to be upbraided as soon as she arrived, she was not surprised, therefore, when she was summoned almost immediately to the director’s office. Squaring her shoulders, and adjusting her apron, she knocked on the door and went in when invited to do so.
A stranger was with Ms. Morrison. He was a short, rotund man, with a very handsome face that made it easy to forget his height and girth. She looked at her boss, after greeting them both.
“Please, have a seat, Ms. Downing,” Ms. Morrison invited her, and she noted that the stranger did not sit until she had taken her seat.
Sitting ramrod straight, she wondered if he was a member of the board of directors come to send her on her way with a meaningless apology. His skin was golden, as though he spent a lot of time in the sun, and his eyes were a honey color, presided over by two very impressively bushy brows. He reminded her of a fat, contented cat. If he was one of the bigwigs that ran this place, then he was indeed a fat cat, and she wondered again why he was here to witness her castigation for being late on her last day of work.
“Good morning, Ms. Downing,” Ms. Morrison began, looking directly at her. “This is Malik Faisal, from the Mubairan consulate. Mr. Faisal, Alexandra Downing. As you missed yesterday’s staff meeting, Ms. Downing, I need to inform you that Mr. Faisal is here to observe the staff at work. He will be with us for most of the morning, specifically to observe personal care, socialization, and medicating of patients. As you have in your caseload a number of patients who are especially challenging, I thought it would be good for him to observe your interactions with them. Please answer any questions that he may have to the best of your ability. I am sure I can trust you to continue to be the consummate professional that you are.”
Alex looked at her, reading between the lines to the real message — don’t make trouble for us by telling him we’re firing you — and then glanced at the stranger, who smiled politely at her. She looked back at her boss.
“Of course, Ms. Morrison.”
“I will be with Mr. Faisal for most of the tour. Do you have any questions?”
Alex had one very big question, but she was not about to ask it in front of the woman who was “letting her go” today. But how much of a coincidence was it that the person who would be observing their work was the same person who wanted to interview her? What were the odds? Why had he made arrangements to watch her before asking her for an interview? Was this man stalking her? Did he already know she was being let go? What the hell kind of job for a single client was he offering her? And would she take it, especially as it was out of state? Trying not to let any of her suspicions show, she replied,
“No questions, Ms. Morrison.”
Alex didn’t have to try too hard to forget the visitor, whom she was sure had really come to observe her, and not just the nursing home in general. Between old. Mr. Barrett’s seizure (the Alzheimer’s was advancing really rapidly with him), Mr. Maloney’s usual mid-morning disappearing act (she found him outside, in his usual getaway spot in the swing by the rose garden), and Mrs. Anderson’s heart attack, which had brought ambulances screaming to the facility, and involved massive amounts of paperwork for her, as she had been the one to discover her slumped over in her wheelchair when she had gone in to give her her medications, Alex had no time to even think about the little man, or to worry about what she was going to do about his job interview. She was run off her feet, and hurrying to get back on schedule.
Ms. Morrison expected each licensed practical nurse, or LPN, to complete her caseload every day, and do all reports before she left at the end of her shift. She ran a tight ship, and her expectations were sometimes excruciatingly high, especially if she had it in for someone. And though Alex had tried to stay below her radar, she had always been aware of being under particular scrutiny. When Mr. Faisal stopped her, therefore, as she was on her way to give the bedridden Ms. Williams her morning exercises, she said, with some asperity, forgetting he was working for a potential employer,
“I’m sorry I can’t stop to talk to you. If you have any questions, you will need to make it quick, as I can’t have you in the room with the patient.”
SHEIKH'S SURPRISE BABY: A Sheikh Romance Page 90