by Holly Rayner
“Make sure you mark down the names of everyone on that panel. I’d like to meet up with each of them individually and see if we can develop a partnership.”
“You got it,” Phoebe whispered back, making notes in her black notepad.
A few audience members stood up and asked questions about how they could use the proposed theory to increase their own consumer bases, and Rachelle listened intently, making mental notes of everyone in the room.
Having recently received a promotion at her firm—one of the best in Chicago—Rachelle was determined to network with as many people as possible in order to fulfill her mission of expanding their holdings internationally.
As time for questions ran out, the panel thanked the audience once again, and everyone stood, stretching in their tailored suits as the exit became flooded with attendees. Rachelle remained in her seat, and Phoebe glanced at her with a question in her eyes.
“Just biding my time,” Rachelle said, watching the panel.
Two gentlemen and a blond woman stood at the podium, fielding individual questions from other attendees. Rachelle watched carefully as, one by one, each person received their answer and then moved onto the next session. When the speakers were freed up, she made her move.
Rising, she walked on her high black heels toward the podium.
“Fantastic presentation,” she said with a smile.
The man, who happened to be a major player in the advertising world in Zaradi, their current host country, smiled, his teeth a stark white against his dark skin.
“Thank you. We are quite proud of what we’ve been able to accomplish here in Zaradi.”
“As you should be. I’ve been watching the success of your company for quite some time.”
The man lifted an eyebrow.
“Oh? And where are you from, Miss…?”
“Smith. Rachelle Smith. I’m here on behalf of KSK Worldwide, out of Chicago.”
The man nodded.
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of KSK. You all have a great holding there in Chicago, and the United States.”
“We do, which is why we’re looking to expand internationally.”
The man’s eyes lit up with a knowing expression.
“And so, they have sent you to the Middle East. There is always room for growth and partnerships here. We’ve been looking to make better ties with our American accounts as well. Perhaps you and I can be of service to one another.”
“Perhaps we can,” Rachelle agreed, cool as a cucumber.
The man pulled out a business card from his front pocket and handed it to her. She took it and handed it to Phoebe, who, as always, was just a step behind and ready to help with whatever was needed.
“You can look forward to hearing from me soon,” Rachelle said.
“I will certainly look forward to it, Miss Smith. Until then, please enjoy the conference and our beautiful country. I think you will not be disappointed with what we have to offer.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t made it much further than the airport and the hotel lobby.”
“Well, that is certainly a shame. If you can, I encourage you to take one of the many tours of this fine city, at the very least. Zaradi is an abundant country with much to offer.”
“It certainly is. I won’t take up any more of your time, sir. Here is my card, just in case,” she said, whipping out her own from her purse and handing it to him.
He pocketed it quickly and held out a hand for her to shake, which she did, firmly, while making eye contact.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Smith.”
“And you. Enjoy the rest of the day.”
Stepping aside, Rachelle waved to the man as he made his way down the now empty aisle toward the conference hall, where there would be refreshments for conference goers between the presentations.
Rachelle made a point to introduce herself to the other two panelists and hand them her cards before they also left the room, leaving Rachelle and Phoebe alone in the massive hall.
“That went well,” Phoebe observed.
Rachelle nodded, satisfied.
“I think so, too. The only thing we’ll have to focus on is keeping on top of everyone so we don’t become lost in the sea of networking that’s happening here today.”
“You know who we really need to find?”
Rachelle lifted a dark, perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“Ban Abdul.”
Phoebe grinned as Rachelle rolled her eyes, heading for the exit.
“Oh, come on!” Phoebe laughed. “He’s by far one of the most attractive men here. How many men do you know with gorgeous olive skin and blue eyes like that? And his hair is like, the perfect amount of thickness.”
“How did you have time to evaluate his hair? When he gave the keynote speech, we were at least twenty rows back.”
Phoebe shrugged.
“It was just that good. What can I say? How often do we have the chance to meet handsome account executives from exotic foreign countries?”
“The man is from Dubai. I’m sure it’s not that different from Chicago. All major cities have similarities.”
“Tsk, tsk! Listen to you, not singling out your market audience!”
Rachelle laughed.
“Right, I forgot. There’s nothing like Chicago, with their baseball teams and food, and there’s nothing like New York, with their baseball teams and food, and there’s nothing like Dubai…”
“With their Ban Abduls! Oh, please, Rachelle, can we just keep an eye out for him? Even you have to admit that he would be a powerful connection for the company.”
Rachelle grinned at Phoebe, the lovesick romantic. Her assistant always had an eye out for handsome men, though to her knowledge, Rachelle had never recalled her ever actually dating one. It was surprising, since Phoebe was cute and blond, and certainly a catch for any young man.
Rachelle on the other hand…well, that was a little more complicated.
Rachelle had spent her youth in the suburbs of Michigan, and she had always dreamed of escaping to the big city. After college, she’d headed straight to Chicago, where she’d landed an internship that had led to her becoming a rising star at one of the biggest advertising firms in the city. It had been a combination of luck and talent, but Rachelle had loved every minute of it and was grateful every day to work at a job she loved.
That job, consequentially, took up a large chunk of her time, and as time passed, she found herself twenty-six years old with no dating history to speak of. Sometimes she wondered if she regretted sacrificing a romance for her profession, but when she felt the rush of landing a deal and bringing a product sale to life, she tended to forget about it.
For a little while.
“Rachelle?”
Phoebe was staring at her, and Rachelle realized she’d drifted off, lost in thought. She shook her head slightly.
“Sorry. I was just thinking. There are a few other people I’d like to sit down with, and if we’re lucky enough to stumble across Ban Abdul, I’ll be sure to introduce you. Who knows? Maybe he’s looking for a new personal assistant with some international flair?”
Phoebe placed her hand to her heart, mock wounded.
“You think I would ever leave you, my fearless leader?”
Rachelle laughed.
“For a handsome millionaire and a chance at international adventure? Yes, in a heartbeat.”
Phoebe smiled.
“You know me too well, boss. Now, where are we headed to next?”
Before Rachelle could answer, a shrill beeping sound came from speakers all around them.
“Attention, conference attendees. It has been brought to our attention that a threat has been issued by a group opposing the Zaradi government, and in light of ongoing political instability in the country, several speakers have cancelled their appearances. No afternoon seminars will run today, and it is recommended that travelers be cautious when exiting the building. We apologize for this inconvenience.”
Ra
chelle and Phoebe locked glances as the announcement rang through the halls, conference goers casting wary glances around at each other.
“Well, that puts a little bit of a damper on things, doesn’t it?” Rachelle said, her frustration rising.
How was she supposed to land the deals she needed if there were no gatherings for her to meet people? Seeing a television in the corner of the lobby, Rachelle and Phoebe made their way over, watching the news. After several minutes, no mention of instability or violence was mentioned, and Rachelle turned to Phoebe.
“What a waste! What are we supposed to do now? Everything in the city seems completely normal.”
A woman nearby nodded her head, watching the screen alongside them.
“There are always rumors of some coup or another rising up. Nothing ever comes of it.”
Rachelle looked down at the petite woman.
“You’re from here?”
She nodded.
“Born and raised. I wouldn’t worry too much. It is a shame that people felt unsafe enough to forego their responsibilities, but I suppose fear will do that to a person.”
Rachelle nodded, feeling the weight of her disappointment on her shoulders.
“Well, I suppose that means we have the rest of the day off, Phoebe.”
“Do you think Ban was brave enough to stick it out?”
Rachelle laughed.
“He gave his speech, didn’t he? Unless that announcement had him running for the airport, I’d say there’s always a chance true love will find you around any corner.”
“You’re teasing me again.”
“Yep.”
Rachelle nodded to the woman and thanked her for her input before she and Phoebe headed back toward the expansive lobby, staring around as conference goers dispersed.
“What should we do now?” Phoebe asked.
Rachelle glanced at her watch. It was early in the day still, just about lunch time. They would have nothing to do for the rest of the day.
What a shame.
“I suppose lunch wouldn’t hurt us. Shall we head to the bar?”
“Sure. I’m not terribly hungry, but I wouldn’t mind a drink or two.”
Rachelle lifted an eyebrow at her precocious assistant again, and Phoebe shrugged.
“What? You said it yourself. There’s nothing else for us to do today. We’re in a beautiful country in the Middle East. Why don’t we make lemonade out of this lemon and enjoy ourselves a bit?”
Rachelle huffed as they headed in the direction of the bar.
The truth was, she had a purpose in being at that conference. In the span of a minute, that purpose had been eliminated. Rachelle hadn’t spent much time over the past couple of years enjoying herself since there was always work to be done. She still managed to get out and about at times, and she had friends in the city who she liked playing bar trivia with every so often, but when Rachelle was on a mission, she thought of nothing else but accomplishing her goal.
Now, stuck in a foreign country with nothing to do, she supposed getting a drink wasn’t the worst idea in the world.
They entered the bar, which was an open space filled with tables that surrounded a large indoor fountain. The trickling water rendered the space tranquil, and Rachelle felt a little better as they approached the little wooden bar front and picked up a menu.
“We don’t serve lunch here,” a stout little man said as they perused the menus.
It was a question he was clearly very tired of answering.
“Seriously?” Rachelle asked.
“This is a bar. We have drinks. If you want food, you can head to the café up the road.”
Rachelle’s stomach growled.
“Do they have drinks?”
The man looked at her with dark eyes. Clearly there was something she was not understanding about how things were done in Zaradi.
“No. It is a café. They have food.”
Rachelle and Phoebe looked at one another. It was clear that Phoebe was dying to stay and have a cocktail and a chance to unwind after a long trip and a busy morning. Conscious of the amount of work Phoebe put in to make her life easier, Rachelle pulled out a seat for her assistant.
“Have a drink. Charge it to the room, so the company can cover it, along with whatever else you can find to imbibe. Based on this man’s fine information, it would appear there isn’t much else for you here that isn’t alcoholic.”
Phoebe looked at the chair, then back up at Rachelle.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go to where they have food.”
“But didn’t they just say to stay in and be cautious?”
“Yes, but since when have I ever lived my life with fear?”
Phoebe glanced back at the bar, clearly unsure.
“Phoebe,” Rachelle said, taking her assistant by the shoulders and forcing her to look her in the eye. “You are a great assistant, and you work very hard. Consider this my thanks, and enjoy yourself this afternoon. I’ll touch base with you later so we can take our next steps. Enjoy yourself. Boss’s orders.”
Phoebe grinned as she finally took her seat at the bar.
“Thanks, Rachelle. You’re the best.”
Rachelle smiled.
“Don’t I know it? If you find Ban and decide to run off together, just shoot me a text so I know not to wait up for you at the airport in a few days.”
Phoebe nodded, picking up the menu again and glancing through.
“I will. I’m sure it will happen any minute. Enjoy your lunch!”
“Thanks,” Rachelle said, giving Phoebe a small wave as she headed toward the conference hall entrance.
When she stepped outside, the air was hot and dry. She was surrounded by skyscrapers, and while she had commented that all cities were more or less the same, she knew that wasn’t really true.
Zaradi’s capital city, Tara, was stunning in its own right, as the wealth of the small country allowed for building and innovation that Rachelle had never seen anywhere else. All around, there were unique structures and a desert park where children played in the warm sand before cooling off in a manmade sprinkler fountain surrounded by palm trees.
Rachelle listened as the laughter of children playing danced along a warm breeze. How could they tell her that anything was wrong in Zaradi? As she strolled in the general direction she had been given, Rachelle felt completely at peace.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost missed the café entirely. When she tuned back into her surroundings, she stopped herself just past the café door, turning around. Rachelle opened the door, and a little jingle sounded as she stepped inside the cool interior.
The building was set up like a little market, with tables surrounding the windows. The sign at the front was in two languages, one being English, and it told her that she could seat herself, which she did, breathing in the scent of a spice she had never smelled before.
She hoped the waiter would arrive soon. Rachelle was famished.
Chapter Two
Rachelle was gazing at her menu, having finally decided on what to order, when she looked up to see a man staring down at her.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there. Can I please get the goat cheese salad with the dressing on the side?”
The man continued to stare, his expression bemused. Rachelle took him in, and when she did, her skin tingled.
He was stunningly handsome.
His eyes were a dark chocolate brown, and his hair was thick and black, not unlike Phoebe’s description of Ban’s. He was tall, his skin a smooth olive color. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit.
Wait. He was dressed in a suit?
Glancing around the café, Rachelle saw a few other servers at other tables. They were dressed in white shirts and slacks—nothing compared to what the man towering over her was wearing. She quickly realized her mistake.
“Oh my gosh. You don’t work here. I am beyond embarrassed.”
Hi
ding her face with her hand, she felt her blush travel from her cheeks to the roots of her dark brown hair. Realizing that he was still standing there, she glanced back up, her eyes filled with regret.
“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to mistake you.”
The man chuckled, and it was a warm, inviting sound.
“It’s quite all right. I’m sure you’re not accustomed to random strangers waiting for your attention, or maybe you are, given your beauty. May I sit down?”
Rachelle blinked at his compliment before nodding, unable to find her tongue. Since when was she rendered speechless by anyone? Rachelle Smith could talk her way into and out of any situation she chose. Somehow, in a matter of seconds, this man had taken that ability from her.
He slid into the seat across from her, his eyes warm as he held out his hand.
“I’m Darian, CEO of VELO Media. I saw you at the conference earlier and wanted to make sure I introduced myself. You’re Rachelle Smith, are you not?”
Rachelle smiled and nodded, shaking his hand even as she thought about this handsome man watching her from across the crowded room and feeling warm at the thought. Then the part of her brain that actually worked began yelling at her to pay attention, and so she did.
Darian, CEO of VELO? Why did that sound so familiar?
It struck her like a bolt of lightning. Darian, as in Darian Al-Adain, Sheikh of Zaradi! Not only was he one of the top executives in the field in this country and around the world, he was basically a prince! As she stared at him for a moment, she almost thought he looked disappointed at her reaction.
“I see my reputation precedes me,” he said, glancing down as he pulled his hand away, leaving an emptiness in the palm of Rachelle’s hand.
In that moment, Rachelle realized that the poor man was likely a celebrity in his country, never able to have a regular conversation with anyone normal. She had to believe that it had less to do with his professional accomplishments and more to do with his royal ties. She cared nothing for the latter, personally.
“If by that, you mean your reputation as one of the most successful advertising executives in the world, then absolutely. You are actually on my list of people who I would like to meet while I’m networking here.”