The Sheikh's Irresistible Proposal

by Rayner, Holly

  I made a mental note to have a talk with God and ask him what I had done to deserve a day like this. A moment later, the cameras flared to life, and we were very suddenly live to millions of people across the country. A sharp-looking man with a salesman’s smile walked up to the stage’s microphone with carefree ease.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Date Roulette, the show where everyone has a chance at love. My name is Matt Summers, and I’ll be your host. Let’s meet tonight’s lovely contestant. Hailing from Chandler, Arizona, this stunning redhead loves the theater, long walks on the beach, and drinks with close friends. She’s twenty-three, and works as a model. Without further ado, I present to you, Ms. Emma Johnson.”

  I don’t care who you are, it boosts your ego just a little bit to be called stunning on live TV.

  I came out slowly, giving the cameras a chance to pan over me, before I took my place beside Matt.

  “Hi Matt,” I began, in the bright, sweet voice I was certain America wanted to hear. I shook his hand with gentle firmness. The handshake wasn’t in the script, but it seemed harmless, and I wanted to do something slightly assertive before I sold my soul for the rent money.

  “Hello, Emma,” he replied easily. “A pleasure to meet you. And now let’s talk to the men you’ll be dating.”

  Remembering how many people could see us, I forced myself to smile at this, and be led to Kristos, who was disguising his feelings admirably. The plan was to have us simulate a dinner date, so in short order, the two of us were at a table near the front.

  We were served champagne, and Kristos started sipping his while he thought of something to say. I had an idea, though, and after a sip or two of my own, I spoke up.

  “Kristos isn’t a name you hear every day,” I intoned. “Can I ask where it comes from?”

  “Greece,” he answered at once, something like pride in his tone of voice. “I was raised in Patras, in the west.”

  “I’ve always wanted to visit Greece. How long did you live there for?” I asked, sounding way more interested than I really was.

  “Twenty years. It is a truly beautiful country, Patras in particular. Breathtaking mountains surround one edge of the city, and pristine beaches come up to meet the other.”

  He waxed lyrical about Greece for a minute or two, and then asked me what Chandler had been like. I told him about the mix of cultures there, and before long, we were absorbed in conversation.

  Dinner arrived: grilled salmon and wild rice, by which point I had almost forgotten we were being filmed. I looked across from me to find Kristos looking as surprised as I felt. Somehow, this “date” of ours was actually working.

  On the stage, Kendall East was singing one of his newest songs. Kendall was a minor celebrity who had risen to fame serenading teenagers on YouTube. I ignored him. I was beginning to become far more interested in Kristos. Now that he was calm, he seemed lively and full of good humor. His mood was kind of infectious.

  “My father rapped his knuckles against a wall,” he was saying, “and told his customers the house was solid, and would last forever. He leaned against the wall and continued to make his pitch, when suddenly, he fell right through to the other side. A piece of plaster fell from the ceiling in the next room, and hit him on the head. That’s when I ran for the door screaming ‘the sky is falling’ like Chicken Little. Needless to say, he didn’t sell the house that day.”

  I was quaking with laughter when the date suddenly ended, and was shocked to discover that we had been talking for only fifteen minutes. When Matt took me to meet my date for the next fifteen minutes, Kristos looked genuinely disappointed to see me go.

  I should have known that things weren’t going to keep going as well as they had been. Date number two was with Kyle who, in ways large and small, was playing a certified asshole. The first thing he did was criticize me for wearing makeup. Something about “real women” not being afraid to go natural.

  Our date took place on the dancefloor. I’m a good dancer, but Kyle was excellent. He twisted and turned with little regard for my ability to keep up, so that I ended up looking stupid by comparison. Since I couldn’t tell him off and walk away like I would in any realm of reality, I suggested we try something a little slower. It turned out to be a fantastic idea. He was less showy and more careful of me. A celebrity dance instructor named Helen Wells took the opportunity to give us a ballroom dancing lesson. We got through that without incident, and I moved on to my last date for the evening.

  My last date was with a man who was polite, handsome, and an excellent dresser. His only problem was that he was boring. Incredibly so. I was aware there was a camera following me the entire time he was talking, but that only barely kept me from nodding off. I felt jealous of the people watching with a DVR that could skip ahead a few minutes.

  “Time’s up!” Matt said to my sincere relief. “And now, Emma, it’s time for the moment of truth. I want you to consider this very carefully. In my hand, I hold an envelope. In that envelope is a check, and on that check is an amount that could be anything from one dollar to five thousand. You can now choose to either take the check, or you can ask one of these gentlemen for a second date, and perhaps gain something more important. The choice is yours, but before you make it, I want you to shake hands one more time with each of your dates.”

  I moved to comply, and when I reached Kristos, he leaned in and quietly whispered something in my ear.

  “When he asks you to choose, ignore the script and pick me.”

  I gave him an unsure look. Against all odds, he had been the best of the three dates, and I had to admit that I wanted to spend more time with him. On the other hand, deviating from the script was risky. I absolutely needed that paycheck. Mrs. Coleman was not understanding in the least, and I had blown my only other hope for work earlier today.

  I shook hands with the other two bachelors and returned to my post beside Matt.

  “Are you ready to make your choice, Emma?” he asked dramatically.

  “Yes, Matt, I am,” I replied in my television voice.

  “Will you take the money?” he asked, holding the envelope out to me. “Remember, I could be handing you five thousand dollars. It’s very hard for me to think of a legal way for you to make that much in under an hour.”

  “I know,” I replied, “but I have to follow my heart.” It was the corniest schlock anyone could have uttered. But Americans love their Disney, especially in Hollywood, and if you give the people what they want, you get to take the money and run.

  “Alright then,” Matt said, opening the envelope dramatically. “Let’s see how much money Emma has just turned down.” There was a drumroll, which I thought was a bit much, and then he held up a check that was made out to me in the amount of three thousand four hundred dollars. I didn’t need to act. I was appropriately disturbed for a moment, before I remembered that I was getting paid for this.

  “Now Emma,” Matt continued, almost comically tearing up the check. “Tell me, which of these guys did you give up over three thousand dollars for?”

  “Kyle,” I said after a dramatic pause. “I thought we got off to a good start. You’re a really good dancer, and a lot of fun to be around. Will you go out on a second date with me?” I made my face look adorably hopeful so that it would grip the audience more when he said no.

  I could see Kristos’ face. He did not look happy. Beside him, Kyle didn’t look much better. He looked like he wanted to defy orders himself, until the camera fell on him. At that moment, his features suddenly exuded arrogance, like that one guy that’s the rich, evil, jerk in just about every movie.

  “Emma, you are absolutely gorgeous, but I need someone who isn’t afraid to be natural, and someone who’s more open to trying new things. Unfortunately, I have to say no.”

  The cameras turned to me expectantly, and I let my face fall. Matt put a comforting hand on my shoulder, and gave Kyle an impressive glare.

  “Emma, I am truly sorry,” Matt sa
id consolingly. “Personally, I think Kyle’s a moron to pass up a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you are. But I don’t write the rules, so we have to send you home now.”

  “That’s alright,” I answered quietly, pretending to put up a brave front. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Emma, and I do hope you’ll come back and join us again. I’m Matt Summers, and I want to thank you for watching Date Roulette. Goodnight, everybody, and remember: everyone has a chance at love.”

  The cameras were turned off, and I headed back to wardrobe to turn in the dress they had given me. I collected my pay and made my way slowly out of the Merridoc. I denied it to myself, but I was looking for Kristos. He was nowhere to be found, and I reluctantly headed out to the parking lot.

  When I got to my car, I got a shock. Kristos was leaning against my Malibu with sort of a smug look on his face.

  “Um…can I help you?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “You’re a very intriguing woman, Emma,” he replied. “I’d like to get to know you better. I thought we could get a drink somewhere.”

  “I’ve already told you no twice tonight,” I curtly reminded him. “I didn’t let you have the parking space, and I didn’t pick you as you suggested.” I was perfectly fine with having a drink with him, but I saw no reason to make it obvious.

  “And that’s exactly why I’m here,” he returned. “I don’t like to take no for an answer. Besides, talking to you has been the highlight of my day.”

  “You should really leave the acting to me,” I joked, before we headed to a high-end bar two blocks down.

  FOUR

  The bar Kristos chose was called The Legendary, and it was sort of a landmark in the area. Apparently, it had originally been a speakeasy during Prohibition, and since the elite kept coming afterward, its owners had decided to go legitimate.

  We sat at one of the small, elegant, tables, and Kristos decided to start with a rum and coke. I opted for a Long Island iced tea, and my new Greek acquaintance opened the conversation.

  “So what brought you here?” he asked as I took a drink.

  “You did, remember?” I replied with a laugh.

  He gave me a look of plainly false scorn. “I mean, what brought you to California?”

  “I wanted to get into movies. I always have. When I was younger, I saw Interview with the Vampire. There’s a girl named Claudia who becomes a vampire as a child, and can never grow older. She’s tormented by it. The girl who played her put a ton of depth and devotion into the character. I thought that was an amazing thing, to be able to do that, and I wanted to give life to characters too, so I started getting into drama at school. When I got better, I wanted to start trying out in talent shows, but my parents thought the whole thing was a waste of time and money.”

  “I heard something similar growing up,” Kristos interjected sympathetically. “Did you manage to change their minds?”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s sort of like trying to get an elephant to move when it doesn’t want to. Instead, I got a job, and paid for the fees and transport myself. The first few times, I didn’t even place, but after a while, I was hitting second or third. Sometimes, I got gigs in little community shows. I rarely got paid, but when I did, I put it into getting more recognition. But my family, especially my mother, tried to force me in another direction. ‘Nurses are more in demand than movie stars, Emma, and it’s far more likely to provide a stable life for you.’ Things came to a head when I turned sixteen, and won a scholarship to a theater camp in DC. I had pretty much killed myself to pull that off. Between school, practice, and a part-time job, getting that scholarship felt like climbing Mount Everest to me.”

  The waitress came back to check on us, and we ordered another round of drinks. They appeared a moment later, as if by magic.

  “And after you told them that, your parents still forbade you to go, didn’t they?” Kristos said, picking up our conversation. He sounded bitter.

  “They did, and so I ran away. I got a friend of mine to drive me to Washington. I had to chip in for gas, and we could only afford chips and other cheap snacks. But my friend had a cousin who lived in the city, and her parents agreed to house me for the three weeks I’d be there. To me, everything seemed perfect.”

  Kristos was impressed that I’d risked so much to follow my dream, and I told him how my parents had flown to DC and waited for me at the theater camp. I told him how I ran away again two years later, and struggled to support myself while I found an agent.

  We started talking about his early life. Apparently, his family had been in real estate for several generations. As he was telling me how he escaped taking up that mantle, I realized that he was starting to slur his words, just every now and then. Dully I realized that my head was swimming, and I tried to remember how many drinks I’d had. I lost count twice; not a good sign. I might have been concerned, but Kristos chose that moment to start telling production stories.

  One of his earlier shows had a shoot that was held up for twenty minutes because someone made the mistake of bringing their kid to work. The little brat saw the camera and, of course, leapt in front of it and started singing her favorite Our Rainbow Pony songs. The adults tried to catch her, but the little girl was fast. No matter where she ran, she kept coming back to the camera and singing. Kristos was drunkenly miming her actions, laughing voluminously as he did so. I could hardly breathe I was laughing so hard, and soon, we were falling all over each other.

  “This is not what I planned to do when I saw you again,” he said after a while. “I was planning to yell at you about something or other. This is better, though.” His head was on my shoulder, and I put my arms around him in sort of a sloppy hug.

  “What’cha wanna yell for,” I asked. “Ya need to let it go.” At that, I started to sing, but Kristos stopped me with a remark about how beautiful I’d looked in the green dress.

  “You shoulda picked me,” he said, pulling me close to him. “I really liked talking to you.”

  With a little bit of stumbling, he pulled himself up, and kissed me. A sharp heat ran up my spine, and I impulsively tightened my grip, matching his efforts.

  Eventually he pulled away and whispered something in my ear.

  “I don’t think I’m drunk enough to do that here,” I giggled.

  “Bartender! One more!” Kristos cried.

  Somehow, I got him to pay the check instead. We walked back out front, where Kristos’ chauffeur, a very sober man named Stanton, was waiting to take us anywhere we wanted.

  In the back of the car, we resumed the interrupted bout of kissing. I was distantly shocked at how readily I was responding to Kristos, who was already fondling me eagerly. I took my cue from him, and slipped a hand between his open shirt buttons. I caressed the taut muscles of his chest, and felt shivers of pleasure run through my body. The cologne he was wearing was becoming intoxicating, as was the hand running along my thigh.

  By the time we got to his place—a luxurious penthouse apartment that he said was only for weekdays—Kristos and I were on autopilot. My dress had been unzipped, and I’d accidentally popped two of his buttons. I don’t remember exactly how we got to the bedroom, but we collapsed on the bed in a knot of heat and lust. Kristos managed to disengage my bra with one hand, and I had his pants off in a flash. Within moments, we were writhing in fierce passion, making the halls echo with our satisfied moans.

  FIVE

  I awoke the next morning to an angry buzzing noise that, for the first couple of minutes, I was sure was coming from my head. Eventually, the fog lifted enough for me to realize it was my smartphone. I groped around and found it on the nightstand. I didn’t even bother to see who it was before I picked up.

  “Hello,” I asked, in a voice that was heavy with sleep, and the voice of my agent answered me. I didn’t recognize it at first, because it was full of things I’d seldom heard there before. Like excitement. “Margaret? Is that you? What’s g
oing on?” I asked groggily.

  “You are,” she replied, sounding highly pleased. “A number of industry insiders saw your performance yesterday. They seem to think that they could use a talent like yours. It’s only nine and I’ve already booked you for a good three weeks of auditions!”

  “You’re kidding…” I replied, perking up at once.

  “I don’t really have a sense of humor, Emma. You should know that by now. The first one audition’s at 3PM tomorrow, but I want to discuss some preliminaries with you later today.”

  “Sure!” I sputtered badly, still in shock. I was closer than I had ever been to the career I wanted. I was elated.

  I started to disentangle myself from the blanket, when I felt a light pressure about halfway down. Kristos had fallen asleep with his hand on my ass. I eased it off gently, not wanting to wake him. The conversation that follows a night like the one we had is always awkward and complicated, and was not a conversation I wanted to have right at that moment. Even if I did, there wasn’t time. I had to get home, clean up and change, pay the dragon lady her rent, and go and see Margaret.