“Looking good so far. I expect it to be very successful.”
“Not bad for your first time.”
“Not bad at all,” he agreed.
“How is he?” Imani asked gently. She’d gone to spend time with the king the other day, and it was never clearer that death was nigh.
“Doing well, though it seems since he knows the kingdom will be fine, the weight that has been taken off his shoulders has made him more relaxed. Almost as if he’s…letting go.” His voice thickened toward the end.
Imani shut her eyes and absorbed his pain. “If there’s anything I can do, you’ll let me know, won’t you? I hope you know I mean that.”
“I will. And Imani, thank you for doing this.”
“Of course. We’re helping each other, right?”
“Right.”
Pause.
“In a few days I’m playing host to some men from the United States who want to open businesses here. We invited them to come with their families to my home. As my fiancée, I think it would be a good idea for you to attend. I’d considered canceling the event, but my father insisted I should move forward with the plans. Farouk and Yasmin will be there.”
“I know how you Barrakeschis love any reason to get together and eat. Is this one of your weed-them-out events?”
Family bonds were an important part of the culture. So important that large families were encouraged, and relatives often lived together in the same neighborhoods, creating community clusters that shared child-rearing duties and eldercare. Whenever possible, Wasim preferred to do business with people who held the same family values and liked to invite potential business partners to his home to see how they interacted with their spouses and children in a social setting.
He chuckled. “Yes.”
“That’s so unfair—these men have no idea you’re judging them.”
“It wouldn’t be an effective test if they did. So, I’ll see you in a few days? It will be more enjoyable if you’re there.”
Imani’s cheeks heated at the compliment. Because of their friendship she’d attended royal family functions in the past, but she’d never been to one of these type of events. “I’ll see you in a few days, Wasim.”
After they hung up, Imani sat staring at the bouquet. Then she lifted the single rose to her nose and inhaled its fragrance.
8
Wasim shook hands with the first American businessman who arrived with his nine-year-old daughter and wife by his side.
“Quite the spread you have here, Prince Wasim,” the man said, looking around.
“Thank you. Please, make yourself at home. There is plenty to eat and drink, and we even have a little entertainment for you.” He pointed in the direction of the animals that had been placed behind a wire fence to separate them from the guests.
The little girl squealed. “Is that a lion?”
“It is. I have two and a cub, two tigers, and chimpanzees,” Wasim answered.
“Oooh, Dad, can I go see?” She bounced on her feet.
The American chuckled. “Go right ahead, but be careful.” As she tore off across the lawn, he turned to Wasim. “Interesting pets.”
“They make great conversation starters,” Wasim said with a chuckle. “Excuse me while I check on the other guests.”
As Imani had pointed out, Barrakeschis loved a good party and loved to eat, so parties and plenty of good food always went hand in hand. Caterers had set up tables around the lawn filled with an eclectic menu that was typically Middle Eastern but also included choices from the Indians and other Asians whose food had influenced the country since making it their home.
Wasim strolled across the lawn in a white long-sleeved shirt and black slacks, pleased with the turnout, but wondering where Imani could be. Being that they were now officially a couple, they had to avoid the appearance of impropriety and be even more careful than usual about being seen alone together, so today’s group event was an opportunity for them to spend time together while maintaining the ruse that they planned to marry.
Once again, the thought of his father’s passing hit him. He was glad to be able to continue his father’s work and the plans he himself had envisioned, but it was nonetheless sobering to know that he would lose his father soon, essentially any day now.
Farouk and Yasmin arrived, holding hands like newlyweds, with Malak skipping along ahead of them. After a quick greeting, his nephew immediately ran off to play with the other children, tossing a ball on the grass.
Wasim crisscrossed the lawn, mingling with the guests and stopping to tease the children. As he greeted a small group of adults playing horseshoes, his sentence trailed off when Imani exited the house and stood at the top of the steps.
For a moment, he was speechless. He’d never seen her hair like that before, parted on one side and flipped up at the ends. She wore a mustard-colored tunic and matching pants. Brownish-red lipstick complemented her bronze complexion and coated the fullness of her lips, drawing his eyes and hurtling him back in time to the taste of that same mouth and how much he’d enjoyed kissing her.
He quickly abandoned the guests and walked over to her. Smiling, she stepped down onto the grass.
“Hi.”
“You finally decided to make an appearance. How nice of you to show up…late.”
“You didn’t give me a specific time, and you should be glad I’m here considering you begged me to come.”
“Let’s not exaggerate. I invited you.”
“Because this wouldn’t be much of a party without me. You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t thank you.”
“You were about to.”
Wasim laughed. He’d miss their verbal sparring when she went back to Zamibia.
“I see you’re doing something different with your hair.” He hadn’t planned to comment on her hairstyle, but the words just came out of him.
Imani fingered the strands, suddenly more subdued. “I’m trying something different.”
“I like it.”
She glanced at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re wearing a different scent, too.”
Her eyebrows raised a little in surprise.
She had no idea the close attention he paid to everything about her—her clothes, hair, the scents she wore.
“I am wearing a different scent. Normally it’s shea butter infused with passionfruit, but I’m trying a new fragrance from a line of creams and lotions made locally by the women’s cooperative of Zamibia. This one is shea butter infused with mango.”
She was truly amazing. Imani didn’t only publicize and encourage the women’s work, she supported them by buying their products. She’d also worked out a way to invest in their businesses with money from the oil revenues once they started pouring in.
“I like it,” Wasim said. She smelled so good he wished he could carry the scent of her with him at all times.
“You’re full of compliments today.”
“You deserve every one.”
Before she could reply, Malak ran over, squealing excitedly at the sight of Imani. Dropping to her haunches, she gave him a big hug and kissed both of his cheeks. “Oh my goodness, look at you! You’re getting so big. How old are you now?”