by Holly Rayner
For dinner, her father cooked them a large meal of venison, which he’d hunted himself, and they gathered together to hear stories of how Audrey and the Sheikh had met and fallen in love. Their love was apparent, showing clearly in the many laughs they shared and in the way they finished one another’s sentences. Often, Audrey caught her parents sharing knowing looks, as if they sensed what she’d learned: that this was it for her. He was the one.
“Did you guys always know you would end up together?” Audrey asked midway through a piece of dessert banana bread. “When you met, I mean.”
“What makes you ask that?” Paul asked.
Audrey paused, remembering the Sheikh’s grandfather, Sheikh Kassim. “We’ve been surrounded by questions of love lately—what people do to fight for it, how much people are willing to sacrifice. Every new love means an entire new world opens up. We’re beginning to build our own world together.”
Beneath the table, Jibril squeezed her hand, assuring her he loved her.
“When I met your mom, we were both 19 years old and in San Francisco,” her father said, exhaling with nostalgia. “She was the most beautiful dark-haired, dark-eyed vixen I’d ever seen. And I was certain, beyond anything, that she wouldn’t agree to go out with me.”
“But he made me laugh,” her mother said, lifting their plates from the table in a flourish. “So I agreed he could buy me one hot dog from the hot-dog stand.”
“That was your first date?” Audrey asked, incredulous.
“We didn’t have any money at all,” Paul said. “Just enough for a hot dog. And then later a movie. And then later—”
“He just wanted to spend enough money until he felt safe enough to kiss me,” Julia interrupted. “Maybe it was leverage. I don’t know. The point is, I did know I wanted to kiss him from the moment I met him at that hot dog shack.”
“You were just too frightened to chase what you wanted,” Jibril said, his voice soft.
“Sometimes it can be the scariest thing in the world, chasing what you want,” Paul replied, nodding.
They sat with these words, their bellies full of happiness, love, and banana bread. Audrey leaned her head heavily upon Jibril’s shoulder, watching as the night fell across the Alaskan mountains. She couldn’t tell which was more beautiful, Alaska or Ash-Kahlbi, but her heart beat with so much love for both that she didn’t care.
That night, Jibril and Audrey huddled together for warmth with a heater blasting from the corner of the cabin room. Shivering, Jibril whispered into her ear. “No matter what, we have each other,” he said. “For richer—”
“Or richer,” Audrey teased. “You have more money than a god.”
“Fair,” Jibril said, laughing. “But in the end, no matter if we’re in a desert or in a frozen climate—”
“We have one another,” she said.
They fell asleep, their arms growing limp in the great exhaustion of the past few weeks, when their love had grown too powerful to ignore. Because her life had grown too impossibly happy, Audrey found that she did not dream.
Perhaps she wouldn’t have to dream ever again.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Audrey hung the last of her dresses in the closet Jibril had built for her in the penthouse apartment in San Francisco, loving the way her clothes hung and flashed their many colors in the light coming from the window. She’d moved into the apartment just two days before, after splitting her time the past year between their places.
“Why don’t you just move your stuff here?” Jibril had asked, trying to act casual but clearly excited about the idea of living together properly.
The past year had been incredible for Audrey. After returning from their whirlwind trip to both Ash-Kahlbi and Alaska, she’d begun the hard work of boosting the Sheikh’s reputation in the states and in Europe. But once it was revealed that she was dating the Sheikh long-term, her job become incredibly simple. Of course, it also made her an instant celebrity.
Instead of having to fend off attacks from tabloids, now she had to fend off calls from them. She was asked countless questions about their sex life, about their trips to various islands in the Caribbean, and about whether or not she was pregnant (she wasn’t). It grew endlessly annoying, and soon Audrey had begun to feel that she wasn’t working because she was passionate about public relations anymore; she was just trying to stay above water.
Of course, Jibril had noticed her sadness with her career immediately. Taking her into his office one day, he’d sat across from her, explaining that he would give her a stunning recommendation if she wanted to hunt for a new client. Breaking into tears, she’d told him that everything about their new lives together was perfect for her, except for this one flaw—keeping their personal and professional lives separate seemed better. He’d understood completely.
After hunting for a few weeks throughout the Bay Area, Audrey had contacted a celebrity named Carter Williams, who played for the local basketball team. Carter had gotten into some trouble as of late, becoming involved with several Berkley protests and then sleeping with too many girls who went to Berkley. His name was trashed across televisions and tabloids, naming him the “Biggest Playboy of the NBA Ever,” which was quite a title.
“I think I can help you, Carter,” she’d told him mid-interview. “I see how much drama is in your life right now. With a few weeks of hard work, I can make that go away.”
Even without Jibril’s recommendation, Carter hired her immediately, and he also gave her season tickets to his basketball games, telling her that his mother and sister, who both lived in Florida, wouldn’t be able to use them anyway. Thus began her career with Carter the basketball player, and thus began several date nights with the Sheikh, during which they kissed for the kiss cam, ate hot dogs, and cheered on their local team.
Currently, Jibril was on his way home from New York City, where he’d spent the previous few days deep in meetings with his new personal assistant—the young girl from San Diego who’d pestered Audrey with questions about the public relations field non-stop—and eating a good amount of street pizza, which he’d said was ruining his abs.
“As if you could ever lose your abs,” Audrey had told him, laughing. “I know you woke up and did 200 sit-ups and 200 push-ups this morning. You’re nothing but diligent.”
“You know me too well,” he’d responded. “And clear your schedule for our one-year anniversary.”
“You know that’s also your 31st birthday, right?” she asked.
“Not as important as our one year.”
After stocking the closet, Audrey ran to the bedroom, bouncing atop the mattress, knowing that Jibril would be home any minute. Always one for surprises, she knew he’d be whisking her off to one fancy undercover restaurant or another, and she wanted to dress the part.
She donned a green, deep-cut gown that swept all the way to the ground. The paparazzi had begun following them, calling them “America’s Most Gorgeous Billionaire Couple,” so she paid careful attention to ensure her makeup was perfect, fantasizing about the night ahead.
He wouldn’t do it. Not tonight. Would he?
Bringing her phone to her ear, she checked in on the cake she’d had ordered for his birthday, knowing it would be at their apartment when they arrived home that night. It was carrot cake, his favorite—something she’d been surprised to learn. “You are a man of so many surprises,” she’d told him, cuddling him closer.
“The cake will be delivered at eight thirty this evening,” the baker told her. “You’ll have someone at the house to take it?”
“Absolutely,” Audrey said, thinking of the personal assistant, whose life was a great deal easier than Audrey’s had been when she’d had the same position. This was one of the only nights she’d asked the girl to do anything outside of work hours. She’d happily agreed.
“And the payment has gone through. You’re good to go,” the baker told her, bidding her good-bye.
As Audrey waited for the
Sheikh’s arrival, she flicked through the mail on the counter, finding several birthday cards from her parents and from the Sheikh’s family. Amara’s handwriting was loopy, warm, and full of love. She’d made a habit of writing them letters over the previous months, often sending ones just for Audrey.
“I know you are the only girl for my Jibril,” she’d written once. “I can sense your warmth and your honesty all the way from here in Ash-Kahlbi. Thank you for being you. And thank you for watching over my son, who was obviously lost before you appeared in his life.”
Audrey wasn’t entirely certain how true that was. However, she kept the letters in a binder in her office, grateful for the outpouring of love from all corners of the world.
From deep in her office, Audrey heard the penthouse door crack open. The now-familiar black shoes tapped across the hardwood floor, making Jibril’s arrival official. He was home!
Racing toward the foyer, Audrey flung herself into his arms, wrapping her long legs around his waist and kissing him deeply. Tossing her head back, she cried out, “Happy birthday, darling!”
“Wow. What an entrance,” Jibril said, teasing her. He set her on the countertop, kissing her again. His was grinning, yet he looked fatigued from his journey. “I hope I don’t smell too much like airplane.”
“You always just smell like you,” Audrey said.
“So, pretty bad,” he said, laughing. “If you just let me scrub off in the shower really quick, I’ll be ready to leave in 25 minutes. We have reservations.”
“For your birthday,” Audrey said, tilting her head.
“No. For our anniversary.”
“For both,” Audrey said, her eyes glittering.
“Fine,” he said, giving up and tossing his hands playfully. “You win. You always win, woman. I don’t know how I got into this, but I’m sure you tricked me into it.”
“Oh yes. As soon as you threw up your hands, I knew you needed a shower,” Audrey said, waving her hand over her nose. Reaching toward her, he began to tickle her outrageously, causing her to cry out. “Stop! Stop it!”
They were like children, falling more in love with one another each day.
After Jibril washed up, he met her back in the kitchen wearing a dark suit, his hair gelled and swept back, and boasting a hunky five o’clock shadow and a sneaky grin. Audrey’s breath caught in her throat. Swiping her hair behind her ears, she hunted for words, unable to find them.
“You look gorgeous,” he told her, stealing her spotlight.
“I wanted to say the same to you,” she said back.
Jibril drove them to a restaurant near the water, parking next to the beach and guiding them down the sand for a quarter of a mile, holding her hand. Together, they watched the orange sun as it danced into the water, making each wave dramatic as it crested up and then turned over on itself.
“We’ve been countless places together now,” Audrey said, gazing out. “Alaska. Ash-Kahlbi. The Caribbean. France and England. The list goes on… But I can’t imagine living in a more beautiful place with a more beautiful person.”
“The feeling is mutual,” he told her.
Down the coast, they approached a large rock with a red wooden door in the center. The door had a gold-carved handle that was almost begging to be pulled. Jibril pointed at it, his eyes mischievous. “Go on. Open it,” he told her.
“Jibril, we have no idea what’s behind that,” Audrey said, hesitating. “It could be rats or something.”
“Rats? You think rats have a luxurious apartment on the edge of the beach?” he asked her, laughing. “If so, they must make loads more than most of us.”
“Ha,” Audrey said. Dancing forward, she pulled open the door, revealing a long dark hallway that was lit with only a few candles. Peering inward, she spotted a bright light at the end that revealed another door. “What is this, another one of your tricks?” she asked him.
“Just go in,” he said, pushing at her back. “There’s nowhere to go but forward.”
“How metaphorical of you,” she said. Taking a firm step forward, she found that the floor was also made of stone, making her feel as if she were on a kind of archaeological journey, searching for a tomb, perhaps, or looking for buried treasure. “You really are one adventure after another, Jibril,” she whispered, her voice echoing across the stone hall.
Once they reached the end, they found a large mirror, which revealed the bright light she’d seen at the end. It was a reflection of a large room behind them that was built into the rock. Ten tables were situated throughout, along with thick pillars carved from the rock, which seemed to hold the restaurant ceiling up. The walls were decorated with “cave paintings” from the modern era, featuring big-breasted women and modern men wearing business suits. Audrey was fascinated by the décor. “Who made this place?” she whispered.
“A friend of a friend,” Jibril said. “And you’ll never guess what kind of food they serve.”
The maître d’ led them to the farthest table, situating menus in front of them and winking at Jibril as if they’d known each other for years.
“What was that?” Audrey asked him, pointing back at the maître d’. “He gave you a wink.”
“Oh, that was nothing,” Jibril said.
Music began to play from the speakers, sending shivers down Audrey’s spine. It was romantic and slightly Middle-Eastern sounding, giving her memories of the special time they’d spent together in Ash-Kahlbi. “Do they know—”
“Know what?”
“That it’s our anniversary.”
“Or that it’s my birthday?” Jibril asked, teasing her.
“You’re impossible,” Audrey said, laughing. “It’s just—the music brings back memories of those first few days when we were falling in love. It’s so nostalgic.”
“I never took you to be such a sucker for love,” Jibril said.
“Fooled you then,” Audrey said.
Eyeing the menu, Audrey realized that the place served Middle-Eastern food. “Falafel! Halloumi!” she cried. “I can’t believe this. It’s absolutely wonderful. And it’s food we definitely don’t have enough of.”
“We should change that in the future,” Jibril said, taking her hand in his. “Now that you’re living with me and we don’t have to pretend anymore, I’m going to wear my pajamas full time and get really, horribly fat from eating non-stop falafel. Won’t you join me?”
“Into infinity,” Audrey said, giggling.
Around them, only a few couples were dining given the secrecy of the restaurant. Audrey and Jibril chimed their wine glasses together, attracting only slight attention. One couple, one of Carter’s pro-basketball teammates and his wife, Connie, gave them an anxious wave—obviously having come there to avoid the greater population as well.
“The work you’ve been doing with him is top-notch, by the way,” Jibril said. “I always knew I respected your work, but you’ve made strides with him in ways I can’t believe.”
“You’re just happy we go to all the basketball games now,” Audrey said, teasing him. Looking at him adoringly, she continued. “And thank you. Seriously, that means a lot. I finally feel like I have a balance between you and work and friends. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life.”
“Me either,” Jibril said.
He shifted in his seat and then eased his knee to the ground. Shocked, Audrey brought her hands to her mouth, almost squealing. This was the moment she’d dreamed of.
Candlelight flickered across Jibril’s face while he lifted a small black box toward her, his eyes centered on hers. After a long sigh, he asked her, with that attractive, strong voice, “Audrey, will you be my wife?”
After no more than a millisecond’s hesitation, Audrey thrust her arms around Jibril’s chest, bringing him toward her and kissing him with abandon, tears springing to her eyes. After a long, passionate kiss, she broke away, gazing at the face she’d grown to know and love.
“I couldn’t have imagined a better anniversa
ry gift. Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Grinning madly, Jibril kissed her again, lifting her from her chair and slipping the large, glittering diamond onto her finger. Wiggling her fingers, she felt the weight of the rock, understanding the matching emotional weight it represented.
The couples at the other tables stood and clapped, all of them grateful they were hiding out beneath a rock in one of the most secretive restaurants in San Francisco, thus able to celebrate with them with whoops and hollers. Jibril and Audrey thanked them, grinning madly, before sitting back at their table, holding hands across it. Brimming with happiness, they were hardly able to eat their meal, as their mouths scrambled to say as many things as they could about their hopes and dreams for the future.
“A wedding in Ash-Kahlbi,” Audrey said, her eyes bright. “I imagine it at the palace where you grew up, with all your friends and family around us, along with a few of mine from the States.”
“You think they’d travel all the way there?” Jibril asked her, doubtful.
“I know they will,” Audrey said. “But I don’t think I want to wear a traditional Ash-Kahlbi wedding dress. I saw a few photos of them online, and I’m just doubtful—”
“Ha! You were doing research even before you knew I’d ask?” Jibril asked, laughing.
“A girl can dream, can’t she?”
Hours later, after a long walk on the beach, during which they’d hugged each other close and gazed out across the wide ocean, Audrey and Jibril escaped to their penthouse apartment, grateful that they didn’t have to think about anything but one another for the night.
As they opened the door, Audrey was initially shocked to see the giant carrot cake with 31 candles on top—still unlit—on the center of the countertop.
“Audrey!” Jibril exclaimed, shocked. “Did you do this?”
Audrey grinned, memory of the birthday cake coming back to her. “I don’t know who did it,” she said, speaking coyly. “But now that it’s here, we might as well sing. Don’t you think?”
