Dawn to Dark

by Halston James

  I’ve yet to put it to use.

  He already vetoed my wish for a chance to be with a girl who’s far too out of my league, and I now have more money than I can ever spend. What else is there?

  Even with a house full of people, I’ve never felt so lonely. It’s a good thing I have Abu to keep me company, but he’s not a fan of strangers and likes to keep to himself most of the time. Ronny suggested I stay away from my old running grounds, so I haven’t been able to visit the kids I used to play football with, or the soup kitchen where I’d serve food regularly to friends and what felt like family.

  I’ve sent copious amounts of money their way in hopes of lessening the blow of my disappearance. It’s the only thing I have to offer now that my time is tied up in board meetings and galas.

  The vice president of Ababwa Corporation is named Eyago. He’s a younger gentleman with streaks of red woven throughout his long dark hair. He’s spent a great deal of time teaching me everything I need to know and has been shockingly helpful.

  He’s a sarcastic sonofabitch, though, and I can tell I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He’s always watching me like a hawk. Always waiting for me to make a mistake then swoop in to fix it while squawking about his rules and the importance of following them.

  Being the president has been a steep learning curve, but I think I’m catching on pretty well.

  “I will see you in a few hours, Mr. Ababwa,” Eyago says while organizing a few loose papers after our long-winded meeting.

  “Tonight?” My secretary keeps track of my schedule, but I can’t remember if she mentioned anything for this evening.

  “Yes, you have a dinner party this evening. I’ll be attending as well.”

  I try to contain the sigh of frustration at another dinner party. The strangers, clients, and business partners don’t know my past, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel their stares. I don’t belong in this world, and I don’t know how to fake it.

  “Of course. I’ll see you then.”

  Rushing home in my deep purple Maserati that Ronny aptly named the magic carpet, I take a quick shower before dressing in a navy-blue tailored suit and a white button-up shirt. Abu is lounging on my bed while eating a banana he stole from the kitchen. I chuckle at the sight.

  “Hey, Abu. How are you liking our new home?”

  He smacks his lips, then takes another big bite of his fruit while looking pointedly at me. Like I’m an absolute idiot for even asking such a ridiculous question.

  “Yeah. Me too. It’s nice not being hungry, huh? I need to figure out how to blend in though. And you need to stop sneaking food!” I brush the palm of my hand over his small fuzzy head and he swipes at me in return before chattering loudly in annoyance.

  I laugh at his reaction as I slip my shiny loafers on. I’m still not used to wearing such expensive clothes, but as I look in the mirror, I can definitely appreciate their appearance. The supple fabric has a way of camouflaging the riffraff I really am and making me appear to be the suave businessman I’m pretending to be.

  With a sigh, I run my fingers through my thick black hair. Ronny insisted I chop the majority of it off when he transformed me into Ali Ababwa and it’s taking some time to get used to it.

  My phone is sitting on the granite counter in the luxurious bathroom when it dings. The sound catches my attention and notifies me that I need to be at the restaurant in thirty minutes.

  Hastily, I jump back in my car and make my way to another boring dinner with another boring client while wondering if there’s more to life than a big fat bank account on the shores of the Cayman Islands.

  Dinner is a boring event with boring people and boring beverages. I schmooze my way into a million dollar deal before dessert is served and celebratory drinks are poured. Afterward, I walk to the valet, hand him my ticket, and have the wind knocked from my lungs when I see a mirage of beauty walking into the building.

  Jasmine.

  Her cheeks are flushed in anger and her delicate arms are crossed over her ample chest in silent protest as a stranger guides her into the restaurant. She’s wearing a dark red dress with a high slit on the side and a deep ‘v’ down the back, leaving her shoulders and lower back on full display. She’s as gorgeous as I remembered. Hell, even more so. And that same sadness is hanging over her like a heavy storm cloud, making my stomach knot with the need to save her from it.

  I watch her disappear into the building I’ve recently exited from, and feel her absence like a missing limb.

  It seems I hadn’t imagined my attraction to her. My connection to her.

  My desire to save her.

  As my dark purple Maserati pulls up to the curb, I’m shaken from the spell Jazzy had cast on me. Its presence interrupts me from the raven-haired bombshell who recently disappeared behind the doors.

  Without considering the consequences, I pull my cell out and dial the number for Ronny.

  “Yo,” he greets me through a mouthful of food.

  I get behind the wheel of my car and slam the shifter into first gear.

  “I have my second favor,” I reply, bluntly.

  He chuckles. “Your wish? Let’s hear it.”

  I slam the gear into second.

  “It’s about Jasmine—” Before I can finish, he interrupts me.

  “I told you! I can’t make her fall in love with you! I’m not a damn God, Al! You have girls falling over you left and right, pick one of them!” His voice screams frustration and I can almost see the half-chewed food spewing from his wide-open trap. My hand squeezes my cell, barely fighting the urge to throw it out the window.

  The roar of the engine intensifies as I skip third gear and shove it right into fourth, the landscape blurring as I fly down the road.

  “Get me an introduction with her dad. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  A pause greets me before Ronny’s whiny voice rattles through the speaker. “Wait. You want an introduction? Like a meeting? That’s it? That’s your second wish?”

  I watch the fancy restaurant disappear in my rearview mirror before speaking. “A dinner reservation. Get it done.”

  Before he has a chance to reply, I hang up the phone then slam my foot against the gas pedal.

  Releasing a deep breath, I try to remember every tiny detail Jasmine told me the first time we met.

  Her dad is wanting to find her a spouse, and I’m about to bring him the perfect candidate. The question is, how?

  Ronny texts me an hour later, confirming our meeting. I have to give him props, he’s definitely efficient. We have dinner reservations in fifteen minutes at the restaurant.

  Putting the magic carpet in park, I toss my keys to the valet guy before heading through the entrance to The Cave of Wonders, a modern restaurant that’s known for their astronomical prices and uniquely-flavored cuisine.

  The place is decorated in black, white, and chrome with bursts of orange peppered throughout the establishment. Lights hang from the ceiling and the tables and chairs are all sleek lines and sharp corners.

  Walking over to the hostess in a tight orange dress, she recognizes me immediately from one of the magazines I’ve been featured in, and states, “Hello Mr. Ababwa, it’s a pleasure to see you this evening. Your party has already arrived. Please, follow me.”

  It’s weird having people know who you are without introducing yourself first. It reminds me of Jasmine’s shock that I didn’t recognize her immediately the first time we met. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it, either, but I follow the hostess through the open seating area and into a private dining room. My steps falter as my eyes stumble upon an unforgettable face I was certain I’d never see again.

  He wasn’t supposed to be here.

  Schooling my features, I remind myself that I’m Ali Ababwa now, not Aladdin the street rat. I gather my confidence and approach the table.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  Carefully, I pull out the chair across from the man I loathe with my ent
ire being, choosing to ignore him and turn to the man I came to see.

  “Mr. Abadi, my name is Ali Ababwa. Thank you for joining me this evening.” I address Jasmine’s father with as much poise as I can muster.

  “Ah yes, it is nice to meet you. Please, call me Saamir. This is Jay Shadid, an associate at QUA Industries.”

  Saamir is a short pudgy man with a jovial smile and a kind disposition. His associate, however, is nothing but a cobra. He wears arrogance and greed like a peddler does humility and gratitude.

  I already knew this, though. He’s the asshole who stole Jazzy from me all those nights ago. My hands clench at my sides as the memory assaults me.

  Reluctantly, I release the pressure before matching Jay’s confidence with my own and offering my hand for each of them to shake. “Pleasure to meet you both.” My voice drips with thinly veiled arrogance.

  Jay is nothing but a peon compared to my wealth and power. I just need to remind him of this.

  “Will your lovely daughter be joining us as well?”

  I already know the answer, but I need to bring her up organically and I figure this is the quickest way to do so.

  Taking a seat across from both gentlemen, I wait for Saamir’s response.

  He pouts in disappointment. “Unfortunately, no. She doesn’t often accompany me to business meetings.”

  Casually, I lean back in my chair. “And why not? Isn’t she to be your replacement after you retire?”

  Jay’s eyes cut to mine, a spark of recognition gleaming in his gaze, but I shrug it off before turning my attention back to Saamir.

  You can’t prove shit, Jay. Aladdin is simply a figment of your imagination.

  “Ah, I’ve been debating this exact predicament for quite some time. Jay has made it known that a boardroom is no place for a lady, and, though I loathe to admit it, I have to agree with him. My Jasmine is sweet, innocent, and unable to command a boardroom of associates.” His tone is tinged with regret and makes me wonder if he truly believes these things or if he’s being manipulated by his partner.

  Warily, my gaze returns to Jay. The man smirks slyly in my direction, knowing what conclusion I’ve come to and proudly claiming it right in front of the man he’s playing like a fiddle.

  It’s obvious that Saamir is his little puppet, completely oblivious to the fact that Jay is pulling all the strings.

  A cobra, indeed.

  “So who are you planning on grooming for your replacement if it is not your daughter?”

  It’s no secret that Saamir will be retiring in the next few years and the fact that he’s been putting off finding a successor is unsettling. Grabbing a piece of naan bread from the center of the table, Saamir nibbles on the corner, reminding me of a little rabbit as he munches away.

  After chewing, he replies, “Well, you see, I would prefer Jasmine to wed a worthy companion who’s suitable for the position. I’d like to keep the company in the family.”

  He takes a sip of wine from his glass while I set my pieces into play.

  “And whom, may I ask, would you consider to be worthy?” My voice is like steel as Jay tries to contain his Cheshire grin.

  “Well…” Saamir sputters. “Someone who understands the business, obviously. But Jasmine is quite fussy with her suitors, so we haven’t found one that she agrees to, yet.”

  “And if you don’t?”

  I watch in fascination as Jay raises his hand in a halting motion to his boss, attempting to stop him from answering my simple question. He’s completely disrespecting his superior at a business dinner and I’m surprised he just got away with it. “I’m sorry, but how could this possibly involve you? You’re our company’s largest competitor and I don’t believe it’s in our best interest to share such confidential information.”

  Ignoring him, I address Saamir once more, “So you don’t have anyone in mind that your daughter finds acceptable?”

  “We…” He licks his lips anxiously. “May have someone in mind, we’re just struggling to get her on the same page.” His eyes shift to Jay’s for a split second. So quickly, I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been paying attention. However, instead of gleaming with confidence, Saamir looks wary, like he can’t decide if they’re the best match, either.

  “I may have a proposition for you,” I state clearly, holding Saamir’s attention while Jay watches our interaction with caution. Feeling the heat from his scorching gaze on the side of my face, I can barely contain my smile.

  “And what is your proposition?” Saamir’s eyes shine with excitement at the possibility of a suitable spouse for his daughter. He rests his elbows on the table and leans forward in interest.

  “Let me meet her.”

  “That is all?” Jay scoffs, as if the simplicity of my statement is ludicrous.

  I ignore him. “Let me woo her since it’s apparent that everyone before me has been highly unsuccessful in their attempt to do exactly that.” My gaze shoots to Jay, firing him an arrogant smirk. “Can you imagine the potential of joining our forces? How lucrative it would be for both of us? The power I would bring to QUA? You’d be a fool not to consider my offer.”

  Jay’s jaw is clenched in fury at my proposition, his nostrils flaring. To add fuel to the fire, I ignore him completely and keep my full attention on Saamir, the man who has no idea how much power he wields when it comes to my happiness. My future. I make sure to keep the truth hidden behind a well-designed facade. One I’ve worn since the day I claimed to be Ali.

  My expression is carefree, almost lazy, as I scan Saamir from across the table. My heart is racing a mile a minute, but I leave the man in front of me utterly clueless to my anxiety as I patiently wait for him to agree to my terms.

  “I think we can arrange a meeting,” Saamir acknowledges before taking another sip of dark wine. With a careful eye, he studies me, searching for my intent and if it’s honorable or not. I appreciate his concern for his daughter’s well-being. I just wished he’d put his investigative skills in the right place.

  Jay slams his fist against the table like a sledgehammer. The glasses spill blood-red liquid all over the tablecloth and leave a stain on the conversation as well as the white fabric.

  “Saamir, may we please speak in private?” Jay grits through his teeth while trying to maintain a semblance of control. If this is an example of keeping his shit together, I can only imagine how he’d act if he lost his precious Jasmine, as well as his company.

  I guess we’ll find out.

  Saamir chastises his associate, calmly, as though he’s used to these kinds of outbursts. “Now, now, Jay. I’m sure we have much to discuss, but let’s enjoy the rest of our evening. I’ve made my decision. Ali may meet my daughter and attempt to win her heart, but if he doesn’t succeed, then this agreement will not come to fruition. After all, you, above all people, should know how difficult it will be for him to prevail in his efforts. You’ve been trying to win Jasmine’s favor for years and have been wildly unsuccessful.” His blunt assessment is followed by giddy laughter before grabbing the nearest waiter and insisting on another bottle of wine.

  Saamir is well past tipsy and is on his way to being full-on drunk, but I join in his boisterous laughter, suggesting champagne while celebrating the potential of our relationship with my soon-to-be father-in-law. And all the while, Jay’s beady eyes watch every tiny move, patiently waiting to find my weakness.

  And to strike like the snake he is.

  6

  I receive an email from my secretary the next day informing me of my meeting with Jasmine. Tonight.

  They don’t mess around.

  It doesn’t leave me much time to prepare, but I’ve been planning our encounter ever since I met her, so it shouldn’t be an issue. Now I just need to implement it.

  Obviously, she can’t know I’m the man from the market. The question is, how can I use the information she unveiled to me when we first met without sparking her memory?

  Making a few calls, I create my plan with
anticipation swirling in my lower gut.

  I get to see her. I get to make her smile.

  Tonight.

  Pulling into an extravagant driveway with tall trees surrounding the edges, I note the expansive mansion with gold trim and red accents. The place is almost a luxurious castle and I have to remind myself that I was invited. That I’m not trespassing on their property. That I belong here.

  I shake my head before sliding my car in park and exiting the magic carpet. Subtly, I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants then rap my knuckles against the blood red door.

  A servant opens it almost immediately, allowing me to enter with a wave of his arm.

  The foyer is decorated with swirling marble floors and stone pillars, a curved staircase with a gold handrail, and extravagant paintings hanging from the walls.

  Screaming ensues from the floor above me, but the words are muffled and I’m unable to piece together the conversation.

  There’s one thing that’s apparent, however.

  Someone is pissed.

  Warily, Saamir appears at the top of the stairs before making his way toward me on the main floor.

  “Pardon me, Mr. Ababwa. It seems we’re having some difficulties with Jasmine this evening. Perhaps you’d prefer to reschedule?” His tone is apologetic and his face is flushed with embarrassment at his daughter’s childish behavior.

  “I am not an object! You can’t barter with my life!” a feminine voice screeches from upstairs. I have to contain my laughter from the sound of her anger. I don’t like seeing her upset, but that doesn’t mean I’m not amused by her fiery personality.

  If she only knew it was me.

  The fact that Jay convinced Saamir his daughter isn’t capable of commanding a boardroom full of men is ludicrous. That woman could bring any man to his knees, I have no doubt.

  Carefully, I ask Saamir, “Would you mind if I speak with her?” With my chin tilted to the stairs, I silently request his approval to enter his home more fully.