Sheikh's Stand In

by Sophia Lynn

  "My favorite drink is peach soda, and I can get that from the vending machine around the corner. Sorry, Charlotte, but I need to be on a plane at six sharp. Maybe American Airlines waits for publicists, but they sure don't wait for event planners.”

  "Awww crud, I forgot. You're doing that thing in Las Vegas, aren't you? Shoot, that means that I'm not going to see you for a month, at least."

  "Well, you could come out to visit me while I'm out there. They're putting me up in a suite, and there's plenty of space for two. You could blow some vacation time and get away from New York and New York guys for a bit."

  Charlotte laughed ruefully.

  "I guess I've been complaining about my lack of romantic success a little more often than I should have, huh, sis? All right, I'll see what I can do. No promises, though. Get some sleep, and let me know when you've landed safely, okay?"

  "Will do. Have fun with the girls tonight. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

  Charlotte hung up with a sigh of regret. She loved her sister fiercely, and a night out just wasn't the same without Viviana's dry wit and genuine sweetness. However, that didn't mean she was going to go to the bar to mourn.

  It was a short walk to Delmarr. Even in the early evening, there was already a line stretching halfway down the block. Charlotte breezed past the line with practiced grace, earning herself more than a few dirty looks as she went by.

  The imposing bouncer at the door gave her a long look up and down before asking for her name.

  "Charlotte Johns," she said with a big smile. "I should be on the list under Bennett Moragh's party."

  The man took his time finding her, but finally nodded, unhooking the velvet rope for her.

  "Have a good night, Ms. Johns."

  Inside, Delmarr's was dark with glassy walkways and velvet furnishings that called back the camp of the seventies and eighties. Though retro design was big in New York at the moment, Delmarr's came by it honestly. It had been one of the hot spots for hungry talent ever since that era, and when some of that talent had grown up and become famous, they repaid their old watering hole by making it famous.

  "Hey, look, it's Charlotte! Over here, Charlotte!"

  Bennett was a tall willowy redhead who seemed largely famous for the sake of being famous. She was the heir to an industrial fortune, but Charlotte forgave her for it because she was genuinely a fierce, funny, and sweet girl.

  There were at least six women jammed into the circular booth, and Charlotte shoved someone's shoulder until they made room for her.

  "I'm so glad to see you," Bennett caroled. "I've not seen you in forever. You showed up just as Aimee was telling us about her date...."

  Aimee rolled her eyes. The woman was smaller, darker, and perhaps a little more sardonic than the crowd Bennett usually attracted.

  "There's not much more to tell. I got him back to my place, things were going really well, and then suddenly, he started meowing like a cat and kneading my stomach. I'm like, what the hell? I didn't sign up for this. I don't even like cats."

  "First, you're a terrible person for not liking cats," said a blonde whom Charlotte didn't know. "But geez, what the hell did you do after that?"

  "What could I do? I kicked him out before he started trying to use me for a litter box!"

  "Oh, that's not even the worst it could be," snorted Bennett. "I went on one date with this guy who seemed really cute and sweet, right? I think things have gone really well, but when I text him the next day to see if we can get a repeat, he tells me that not only is he married, his wife's girlfriend has seen me on television and doesn't approve. I mean, dating's hard enough when you have to impress one person. Do I have to impress three now?"

  Charlotte downed her first drink while listening to tales of errant dating in New York. The city was a fantastic place to meet new and interesting people, but the truth was, at least for her and her friends, it was a place just to meet them. It always seemed to her as if everyone in New York were crazy, and when it came to dating, it was only a matter of time until that crazy was revealed in all its glory.

  "I think the mistake we're making is looking for the one," Charlotte said, drawing all eyes toward her.

  "Are you suggesting that we should start looking for the two or the three?" asked Aimee, raising her eyebrow. "I don't know about you, Charlotte, but I can't keep track of one as it is...."

  "No, not unless you swing that way, Aimee, but let's be honest. Mr. Right sounds awesome, and maybe he'll show up someday, but for me, I might have to say that I'll be happy if he's Mr. Right For Now, or maybe even Mr. Won't Turn Into A Creepy Stalker.

  Tori, who had been the one with the story about the boyfriend who tried to camp out on her fire escape after she broke up with him, lifted her glass to that.

  "I think,"Charlotte continued, "I'm going to simply start looking for Mr. One-Night Stand. I don't have time for Mr. Right, and if he really were Mr. Right, I bet he'll wait until I'm less busy."

  "Here, here," said Bennett. "I like a woman who knows what she likes."

  The talk drifted to other things, but Charlotte kept thinking about her pronouncement. She had been mostly joking when she started, but now that she really considered it, she liked the idea even better. She had broken up with her last boyfriend almost nine months ago. She was so busy with her career that searching out the right man would simply exhaust her. She resolved that, for the moment, one-night stands were the way to go.

  The evening continued, and at some point, Charlotte challenged Bennett to a word game on their phones. When Bennett lost, she pouted dramatically before throwing up her hands.

  "All right, all right. Charlotte, you win. You're better at Word with Frenemies than I am."

  "And the bet?"

  "Ugh fine. Go to the bar, and bring us back the most expensive bottle they have there."

  "Ha, I don't even care what it is, it'll be delicious," Charlotte crowed, as Bennett shook her head in mock disappointment.

  Charlotte wiggled her way through the crowd, amused by the men who were watching her with interested eyes. Maybe her next one-night stand was in the place somewhere. If he were, she was going to be the one to find him, not the other way around. If someone she didn't like tried to get her attention, she would simply bring him back to the table, where her friends would eviscerate him.

  The bartender didn't bat an eye when she asked for a bottle of their most expensive alcohol. Instead, he disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a bottle that looked plain enough until the light from the bar hit it.

  "Why is it so...glittery?" Charlotte asked, momentarily dumbfounded.

  "Because those are edible gold flakes that've been suspended in it, love," the bartender said patiently. "You still want it?"

  "Of course I do," she said, winking at him. "After all, I'm not the one paying for it. Put it on Bennett Moragh's tab."

  The champagne was gorgeous, and she had no doubt that it would taste amazing. At least, she had every intention of telling Bennett that it tasted amazing.

  She was excited enough to get the bottle back to the table that she didn't see the overly happy drunk careening toward her, chased by his less drunk, more exasperated friends. He brushed by her quickly, tagging her arm as he did so. She let go of the bottle in surprise.

  Charlotte froze, already seeing the expensive alcohol burst in an explosion of gold and glass all over the floor. She waited for it to happen, and when it didn't, she felt almost lightheaded.

  Instead of the bottle shattering, it was held in the firm grasp of a tanned hand. She ran her gaze along the sleeve of a suit jacket that she could tell was well tailored, and finally made eye contact with her savior.

  He was a tall lean man with dark hair that looked inky in the dimness of the club. With his sharp features, she could tell that he was of Middle Eastern descent, and from the way he carried himself, she knew that he was someone important. Or at least he thought he was.

  "Thanks," she said cheerfully. "That would have
been pretty embarrassing if I had to go back to my friends covered in expensive booze that I didn't even get to taste."

  He grinned at her, lifting up the bottle to examine the label.

  "Ah, La Fleur d'Or, the flower of gold. You have expensive tastes, pretty girl."

  There was something about his accent that teased her ear, bringing an automatic blush to her cheeks. She was Charlotte Johns—she shouldn't be blushing over a cute accent as if she were a starstruck farmgirl!

  "I'm afraid that I have expensive tastes without having the budget to afford it," she said with a grin. "I won that off of a phone game with my friend, and now I'm going to take it back to them and share it."

  He grinned, revealing teeth that were as white and sharp as a wolf's. Suddenly, she imagined those teeth nipping along the curve of her neck, and all of her bravado about one-night stands came rushing back to her.

  "Something of a very beautiful Robin Hood, then?" he asked, eying her boldly up and down.

  "Maybe a little less selfless than that," Charlotte responded. "So...I'm going to take this back to my friends, but will you be around? I might want to talk with you later."

  His eyebrows shot up, but he quickly swept down into a bow that somehow managed to look both courtly and sly.

  "By all means, pretty girl. I will wait on your command." He handed her the bottle with a flourish.

  With a laugh that she knew was a little more breathless than she intended, she turned away. She held the bottle tightly in her hands, and when she returned to the table, she was greeted by six pairs of excited eyes.

  "So you're going to tell us who the looker in the suit was, right?" asked Bennett with an eager grin.

  "That'll be pretty hard, because I don't know," Charlotte retorted, a grin on her face. "I don't know him...but I think I might like to know him."

  They parceled out the bottle of champagne, Bennett still groaning about how her dear friends took advantage of her. Charlotte had been friends with Bennett for years. She ignored her comments, sipping at her champagne with satisfaction.

  She wasn't sure that the champagne was worth everything that Bennett had paid for it, but she could tell right away that it was expensive. The bite of the champagne was softened by a faint floral flavor and something that was almost sugary sweet underneath it. She could feel it go to her head a little, making her a little louder, a little funnier.

  The conversation rolled in waves all around her, but Charlotte was finding it harder to think about anything besides the dark stranger she had met. Finally, she stood up, making everyone at the table look up at her expectantly.

  "It has been amazing catching up with you all," she said, "but I think that I need to put theory to practice and catch up with that man who saved Bennett's very expensive bottle just a bit ago."

  Her friends burst into laughter at her declaration, and in a flurry of well-wishes, she strode off into the club to find him. Delmarr was a big place, full of odd corners and nooks. For a little while, she thought that he had left. With a wince, she decided that taking a discreet cab home would be better than returning to her friends' teasing.

  Then she caught sight of the man, himself, leaning against one of the bars and looking sinfully delicious.

  He saw her before she got to him, and he raised his eyebrow and returned her grin.

  "So have you decided that you wish to speak with me?" he asked, making her laugh.

  "Come on, now," she chided. "You knew that it was only going to be a matter of time before I got back to you. I mean, look at you."

  His smile widened at her admiring appraisal.

  "I am glad that I pass muster with your exacting standards," he said graciously. "May I buy you a drink?"

  "You may not," she said crisply, sidling a little closer to him. "I've already had one, and I want to make sure that I am...clearheaded for what I'm about to do next."

  "Oh? And what is that?"

  "I'm going to proposition you."

  She knew she had surprised him. He went still and he looked over her again, as if looking for something hidden he had missed the first time.

  "Tell me, is this another contest with your friend?"

  Charlotte laughed, suddenly realizing how her words must sound.

  "No, not at all. The truth is that I'm a busy girl with a busy life. New York is full of fun, but when it comes to starting a relationship, I'm not that interested in doing it here. Of course, that doesn't mean that I want to be as celibate as a nun! What I'm thinking is that we, you and I, have a one-night stand. We have a lot of awesome fun, and then in the morning, no strings attached, we go our separate ways."

  He laughed at her blunt words, shaking his head.

  "So shall I tell you what my name is, or would you prefer to make one up for me? Something like this, I want to make sure that you get your goals accomplished..."

  "You can tell me what your name is," she said magnanimously. "Just the first one, though. Don't want to ruin the mystery."

  "Very well then. My name is Aladdin."

  For a moment, she simply stared at him, sure that he was teasing her. When he only gazed at her with a level look, she nodded.

  "All right then, Aladdin. I'm Charlotte."

  He grinned, taking her hand and bringing it up to his lips for a gentle kiss. She cocked her head at him curiously.

  "Why do I feel as if I passed some kind of test?" she asked.

  "Because you did. That is my real name, and since coming to this country, I have been informed over and over and over again that I seem to share it with a Disney prince. Believe me, I know. The talk about how it is a real name used by real men in the UAE is one that gets old very quickly."

  "You could just go by Al...."

  "And you could go by Lottie."

  "Oh. Ah, I see your point. Sorry about that."

  "No harm done. You didn't make fun of it, and that's what matters to me. Do you need to know anything else before we go?"

  She thought for a moment, wondering what her sister would say. Likely, Viviana would die before finding herself in Charlotte's position, but she came up with something.

  "Oh, all right. Will you promise not to murder me or to try to make me do anything I don't like?"

  He held his right hand over his heart, bowing his head.

  "I swear that I will never do anything to you that you do not at least ask me to do."

  "At least?"

  "Well, I might like it if you beg a little. As long as that is not on the list of things you don't like?"

  Charlotte barely stopped herself from licking her lips. There was something about this man that ignited a flame of desire deep inside her.

  “No, begging for things that I really, really want is definitely a win. So we know what we should and shouldn't do, we know each other's name…do we need to know anything else?”

  Aladdin looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head.

  “No, I think that after we have decided that we are not going to kill each other, and that we should both enjoy what we are doing, we have a very promising beginning. Shall we go?”

  “Yes. Yes, we should absolutely go.”

  With a flourish, he gave her his arm. She took it, amused and oddly touched by his gentlemanly behavior. As they left Delmarr, she passed by her friends at the door. They cheered at the sight of her on Aladdin's arm, and to her relief, he only laughed.

  “Your friends are very supportive,” he said as they walked out onto the street.

  “You have no idea,” Charlotte replied. “Assuming this goes well, I'll probably be telling them all about it sooner or later.”

  “And if it doesn't?”

  “Well, they'd probably hear all about that, as well.”

  “Ah, sounds fair. I can have my car brought up, and then—”

  “Sorry,” she said with a grin. “I like you, but we're taking a cab back to my place. My mother always said never to get into a car with a guy I don't know.”

  “Really? And
what did she say about inviting him back to your home?”

  “Well, we don't tell my mother every little thing....”

  Aladdin laughed and obligingly hailed a cab. One stopped almost immediately, and he opened the door to hand her in.

  Charlotte's apartment was not far away, which was a very good thing. During the drive, she couldn't take her eyes off of Aladdin. He was every bit as handsome as she thought he had been in the club. She was willing to bet that underneath those well-cut clothes, she would find an impressive body.

  For his part, he made conversation with the driver and commented on the neighborhood. It would have been an unremarkable cab ride if he hadn't placed his hand on her knee and started to slide it up. She drew her breath in a little at his intimate touch, but then she put her own hand over his, guiding it further. His hands were surprisingly rough for how well he was dressed, calloused in a way that made her think of her theater friends who built sets. The roughness felt delicious against the delicate skin of her thigh as he rubbed it gently.

  By the time they made it to her apartment building, she was ready to drag him right to bed. Despite having toyed with her for the entire cab ride, he seemed in no hurry. He chatted a little longer with the driver, gave him a large tip, and waved him away cheerfully.

  Meanwhile, Charlotte could still recall the feel of his warm touch on her inner thigh. When he finally turned to her, she was nearly squirming with eagerness.

  “So do you feel like begging yet?” he asked softly, stepping so close that she could feel his breath against her cheek.

  She laughed a little, amused at the game he continued to play with her.

  “You're going to have to do a lot better than that if you think I'm going to beg after a little bit of fondling,” she murmured. "Maybe you can show me something better if I take you upstairs?"

  "That would be delightful," he murmured, and she shook her head at his old-world courtesy in such a new-world situation.

  She guided him into the small lobby of her old apartment building. He didn't raise an eyebrow until she pulled open the folding gate of the elevator.