The Sheikh's Secret Princess (4 page)

FIVE

Anita began trying to get the restaurant back into order, but realized very quickly that she had no chance of doing it by herself. The day was hitting her, hard, and the second wind she’d gotten at Hakim’s invitation was completely gone now she knew she couldn’t accept it.

She wanted to rage at Fadi. She wanted to rebel, and tell him he had no power over her, and he couldn’t tell her what to do. But tonight had been so different. It had been like she didn’t even know him. The strangers had brought out a side to him that she’d never even known existed, and wished now that she had never seen.

The one thing that she knew was that after seeing him like that, and seeing the way he insisted that it was too dangerous to see Hakim, she couldn’t see him.

She resolved to keep asking. Now that she knew a little more about the history of her ring, she felt it like a hand on her, reaching out from the past. It was like her father was calling out to her.

But she would never get anything out of Fadi if she disobeyed him in such a serious way. And one evening of polite conversation with a man who felt indebted to her for returning his lost ring felt like a bad trade for a lifetime relationship with her father.

She climbed the stairs slowly, heading towards her bed, convinced that if Hakim actually did remember her number and ever contacted her, she would have to turn him down.

She changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed. This, at least, was still the same. This room was home. It had been home for as long as she could remember.

This was her life. It was the one where she worked her hardest at the restaurant, and at school. It was the life where she was a dutiful daughter who cared about her family, and her friends, and didn’t get asked out by handsome princes.

Anita was just beginning to doze off, her eyes opening and closing sleepily, when she saw her ceiling light up, followed by the subtle buzz of her phone. She reached out to grab it off the nightstand, her tired arm grasping awkwardly and accidentally knocking a book to the floor.

She picked up the phone and looked. A text from an unknown number:

Hello Anita. Are you still awake?

Anita laughed into the empty room, careful to keep her laughter quiet enough that Fadi wouldn’t be able to hear it through the walls.

It was Hakim. It had to be. And he didn’t text much, judging by his weirdly formal text speak. Besides, anyone who did much texting would know that a text like that, sent at 1:30am, was a booty call. And there was nothing funnier than the idea of the proper, elegant sheikh she’d met earlier making a booty call.

She went to reply that she was, then hesitated. She had to turn him down. She had to tell him she couldn’t see him. But, Anita thought, she didn’t have to do it right away. It would be rude not to at least have a little bit of a conversation with him.

I am. Is this Hakim?

A silly question, but she felt a little awkward texting the man with the entourage and the limousine from the pink and yellow patterned bedroom she’d had since she was three.

She saw the little bubble.
Typing…. Typing…
Never had that little typing bubble been more annoying to her than it was now. Finally, she got a response.

Oh good, I remembered right. Thank you again for finding my ring. I hope you will allow me the honor of taking your out to dinner tomorrow night. Pardon my contacting you at such a late hour. I only did so because I needed to know if you would be available, so that I can make the proper arrangements as early in the morning as possible.

It was, by leaps and bounds, the longest text Anita had ever received. No, the Sheikh apparently did not text.

She bit her lip. She couldn’t answer his question right away. If she did, the conversation would be over before it started. She wanted to live in the moment a little longer.

Since she was never going to see him again, Anita figured she might as well say what she really wanted to. She typed it into her phone and pressed send, holding her breath while the progress bar filled at the top of the screen.

Is that the only reason?

A typing bubble. And then no typing bubble. And then a typing bubble again. Was he trying to kill her?

Finally, a response.

For shame. Such implications! And here I am, innocently begging you to promise to see me when you’re almost certainly in bed. Innocently. Like an innocent person.

Anita smiled to herself. He didn’t do texting, but the man certainly did sarcasm.

She thought for a moment, and then replied.

Oh, good. I was worried. There have been far too many saucy sheikhs around here lately. I have to be sure.

She should stop. She knew it. She shouldn’t keep on like this—not if she was going to honor the promise she had made in her mind to Fadi—but with every message, she found it harder to imagine not meeting up with him the next day.

Finally, she had to put an end to it. It had been, in many ways, the most exhausting, overwhelming day of her life. It was time it came to a close, but she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

Luckily, or unluckily, Hakim brought it up himself.

So, you’ll meet me tomorrow night?

Now was the time. Anita knew what she had to do.

I’m sorry. I can’t meet you.

She clutched her phone as she waited for a response.

How do you make the pictures on this?

What?

Wait, I found it.

And then there was a picture of a sad-faced emoji.

It was too late for Anita to laugh again in her room; Fadi was only a few rooms over. But something about the idea of the heir apparent to the throne of Az Kajir sending her emoji’s was a bit too much to take. She texted back.

Well done.

His reply came quickly.

Well enough done that you’ll meet me?

Who was he to say? But then, just now, it felt like he wasn’t asking too much

I’m sorry.

Even as she typed the word, she could feel her conviction waning.

I command you as your prince.

Anita realized she hadn’t stopped grinning like an idiot this entire time, and this response only made it worse.

You’re not my prince.

A bubble. No bubble. A bubble again.

Not yet.

Anita clutched her phone to her chest and stared up at the ceiling, at the glow-in-the-dark stars she’d put up there when she was young. She should have removed them long ago, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it.

“What should I do?” she whispered up at them now, as though they would provide her with guidance.

There was no answer. But she had no willpower to go on refusing.

She told Hakim she agreed, and he fired back a happy-faced emoji.

You’re getting the hang of this.

His reply came back almost instantly.

I’m a quick learner.

He sent an address through, and they said goodnight.

Anita tried to sleep, but she kept looking at the phone in the dark, hoping for another message, even though they’d already said goodnight. She’d have to tell him the next day that they couldn’t be together, she thought. It wasn’t fair to string him along.

Still, she couldn’t help but be excited. There were butterflies in her stomach, and they fought hard against her exhaustion.

But finally, it was all too much, and she fell into a deep sleep.

SIX

Anita did her best to act normal the next day. She even tried to seem a little cross and disappointed when she was around Fadi.

It was difficult. She’d never been much of an actor, and she’d been a good, well-behaved enough daughter that she’d rarely needed to pretend with him. The sensation felt strange, and if she weren’t so excited for her date, it would have been a miserable day.

By the time evening came, the whole thing was forgotten as Anita felt her excitement bubbling over. She’d barely resisted the urge to google the address Hakim had given her. She desperately wanted to know, but it was clear that he wanted it to be a surprise, and she found the idea of disappointing him intolerable.

It was Anita’s night off, and Fadi was hard at work down in the restaurant. She knew she couldn’t go out the front without anyone seeing her, and it was too late to come up with an excuse; she’d told Fadi she would be in her room, reading and watching Netflix. He would accept that; it was boring enough for him to believe.

This left her with one option: the fire escape.

It had been years since she’d sneaked out using it, and when she had, there hadn’t been nearly so much at stake. Now, she flinched at every mournful creak of the metal, as though it would summon him out from the kitchen and he would catch her in the act.

Anita adjusted her skirt once she was one the ground. She’d gone back and forth on what to wear. Hakim had worn his tailored suit like he was born in it, and Anita had a feeling that he was usually dressed up to that degree. But she couldn’t compete with that. Plus, whatever his surprise was, she needed to be prepared. So she’d gone the semi-casual route, with a skirt, some new sandals, and a T-shirt. She had a thin cardigan stuffed into her bag in case they were out late and it got chilly, although the warmth of the night seemed unlikely to let up anytime soon.

This was her, she thought. This was who she was. This was how she dressed. If he really liked her, he’d accept it.

As she walked, Anita chided herself for thinking that way. He wouldn’t have to accept it, because they wouldn’t be seeing each other again. Right?

SEVEN

Anita reached the building just about on time. She was a few minutes early, and was glad that she’d left herself enough of a buffer to account for the walk. To her surprise, the building in front of her was a warehouse. And an abandoned one, at that. It wasn’t derelict or dirty, but it clearly wasn’t in use, either. The front door must once have had a sign on it, showing its former presence by the non-faded square of paint beneath.

She must have gotten the wrong address, Anita thought. She rechecked it on her phone. No, this was definitely where he had told her to come. She looked up at the building again. Up on her tip-toes, she peaked through the window in the door.

And then she saw it. Just behind the door was a long stairway, about six feet wide, leading up into the mysterious depths of the building. On either end of each one of the treads were tea lights, not unlike the ones that had been on the Sheikh’s table the previous night.

Anita smiled, and tried the door. It pushed open easily beneath her hand.

She walked up the stairs. The old building was right on the line between spooky and romantic; it could have been eerie, with the way no one was around, but the soft light from the candles gave it a warm glow. One flight of stairs led to another, where the candles changed from tea lights to tall candlesticks in shimmering golden holders.

She could feel her heartbeat quickening. It was, she was certain, the most elaborate, excessive measure she’d even been treated to.

When the staircase bent again, she saw the final set of stairs, lit up by a mixture of tall candelabras, little tea lights, candlesticks, and big, round candles. They were scattered along the sides of the stairs, giving the whole thing a beautiful, carefully-curated look. Between the lights, where Anita would walk, were flower petals. They weren’t red roses—that would have felt a little on-the-nose, she thought. Instead, they were huge baby-blue petals, from a kind of flower she’d never seen before.

Anita held her breath as she climbed the stairs. All she could hear was the sound of her footsteps on the petals, and the crackling of the many, many candles around her.

When she reached the door at the very top of the stairs, another sound met her ears.

Frowning, Anita let out her breath, and swung the door open.

She found herself standing on the roof. It was a large, flat space, and though the candles and petals all stopped, there was still something—someone—here waiting for her: Hakim.

He was facing away from her, wearing another beautifully-fitting suit, as she’d assumed he would be, and speaking in rapid Arabic into a cellphone.

Anita concentrated. Fadi had tried to teach her some Arabic when she was younger, but as she’d grown older, it had seemed less and less important to her, compared to other things. She only had a rudimentary grasp of it now, and Hakim was speaking far too quickly for her to keep up.

Even though she couldn’t make out the words, Anita could tell that Hakim was upset about something. Angry, in a way, but not out of control.

She moved up behind him, creeping up without really meaning to. She heard the tone of their conversation change from anger to frustration, and finally disappointment.

And then he hung up the phone, and was startled to see her, mere feet away from where he was standing.

“Anita!”

She looked around the rooftop, as though looking for some other Anita. “What, me?”

His face broke out into a smile, just as she’d hoped it would. But it wasn’t enough to pierce through his disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Anita furrowed her brows. “For what? What could you possibly be sorry for?”

He gestured around them. “This is my helipad. Do you see anything missing?”

Anita made a show of looking, although she knew immediately what he was getting at. “I see,” she said. “No helicopter. Whatever shall we do?”

It didn’t work. His mood didn’t lift. She was surprised by how much his disappointment bothered her.

Feeling more confident than she could have predicted, Anita reached out and took his arm. “Come on. We didn’t want a helicopter anyway. Going out with a prince is a first for me. Tonight should be a first for you, too. You’ve probably been on a helicopter plenty of times.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

She opened her mouth to tell him, but then thought better of it. “The helicopter was going to be a surprise for me. Let this be a surprise for you.”

She tugged gently at his arm, trying to get him to move towards the door, and the stairs, still illuminated with countless candles. But he stood firm.

“I
was
really supposed to be the one surprising you,” he said, still hesitating.

“Well, it wouldn’t really have been a surprise if you’d planned it, would it?”

And with that, she got him to move, and she saw him begin to loosen up. Anita was glad the staircase was so wide, as they strode down it together.

“I did get one surprise,” she said, indicating the beautiful, elaborate scene surrounding them.

“That’s true,” he said, warming up. “Did you like it?”

Anita nodded, but not as vigorously as she had the previous night. She was glad to have gotten control of herself, now. She could have normal human reactions in front of the prince. That was a start.

“Yes. I loved it, actually.”

She looked to him in time to see just a glimmer of candlelight glint off of his teeth; he was smiling.

“A bit of a fire hazard, though, really,” Hakim said, as they kept descending the stairs.

Anita laughed. “A dramatic fire hazard, though. What is this place?”

They were walking together so leisurely that Anita felt less like she was on a first date and more like she was taking a walk along with someone she’d known for a long time.

“This was one of the first buildings my family bought when we started doing business here. We outgrew it long ago, but it’s good to remember where we started.”

Anita laughed. “So you put a fire hazard in a warehouse that’s been used for the oil industry for years and years?”

He paused mid-step, then laughed. “Yes, it seems I did,” he said, as he recovered and started walking again. “Don’t worry, someone will be around after us to put out all the candles.”

Anita hadn’t been expecting this. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, exactly, but it definitely hadn’t been someone this down to earth. She’d thought he would be a man who always had his entourage around him, a man who was always just a little divorced from reality. Certainly, when she’d seen the elaborate staging he’d made for her on the stairs, that had seemed to be the case.

But their conversation was showing that Hakim lived in her world, more than she had realized. And together, they strode easily through the streets.

“At least tell me if your surprise is far from here.”

She shook her head. “Nope, not telling.”

“Mm, can you tell me if I’m overdressed for it?”

Anita chuckled. “Oh, you’re definitely overdressed.”

“Right,” he said. “So that narrows it down.”

“Does it, though?” she asked teasingly.

He laughed, sliding his hand down her arm so that he was holding her hand as they walked. “All right, point taken. From here on out, I’ll just wear an old pair of… what do you call them… the jean pants that are also kind of a shirt…”

“Overalls,” Anita supplied, as she watched him making the shape of overall straps with his free hand.

“Right, overalls. From now on, I’ll wear nothing but overalls.”

Anita felt like this date had been nothing but laughing, and she couldn’t help herself. “It’s hilarious imagining you in overalls.”

“Honestly,” he replied, “I’m a little insulted that you even can.”

He turned his head to face her. They were walking forward, now, neither of them looking ahead. She felt like she could kiss him just then. She felt like she could just lean in, and…

Anita stumbled. They’d somehow gone off the curb. She nearly fell but he caught her.

“Well, it’s not easy,” she said, not missing a beat in their conversation, “but I have a wild imagination.”

In mere minutes, they arrived at their destination, although Anita found herself wishing she’d picked somewhere further away.

“Crazy golf?”

Anita turned to face him, her face illuminated by the bright, flashing sign of the crazy golf course. “I can’t tell whether I’m catching you at a disadvantage, because they don’t have golf courses in Az Kajir, or if I’m putting myself at a disadvantage by challenging a businessman to a round of golf.”

He raised an eyebrow, but his face gave no indication either way. “Well, we’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

There was a little bit of a wait to play, as there were other parties that had come in in front of them. Hakim seemed unfamiliar with the experience of waiting. He looked around, as though someone should be fixing it for them. That was more the man she had expected, she supposed: looked after for all his life. But he didn’t complain, nor did he really seem to mind waiting. Not as they were, standing hand in hand.

Around twenty minutes later, the competition began, and from the very first shot, Anita knew she was in trouble. Hakim kept shielding his eyes from the flashing lights of the room. The clubs and balls were both neon, and lit up in an omnipresent black light, as did their teeth.

“I should mention; you know we
do
have golf courses in Az Kajir. The grass takes some encouraging, but we do our best. Have you never been back home?”

With that, he sunk a hole-in-one, and raised his arms in victory.

“Don’t get cocky,” Anita said, as she dropped her ball into the hole on the third shot. “They get harder.”

She was glad the hole-in-one had distracted Hakim from where their conversation had been headed. She didn’t know quite what to tell him. Well, she knew the truth, but she also knew that if Fadi was opposed to her talking to this man, then talking about their homeland and giving exact details about their lives was probably an even greater betrayal.

The reminder of Fadi brought her mood down, and for the next few holes Anita had a difficult time concentrating on where she was and who she was with.

“Is something wrong?” Hakim eventually asked, his voice laden with concern. “Have I done something?”

“No, nothing. Sorry. I was thinking of something sad, but I shouldn’t be. Not tonight.”

He gave her a warm smile, and, again, Anita was tempted, just for a moment, to kiss him.

***