A Family Affair

by Fern Michaels

  Malik frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  Rashid hated lying, but he lied, anyway. “It was Soraya saying she thought she was going into labor, but it’s a false alarm.”

  “What will you call this one, Rashid?”

  Rashid laughed. “Malik if it’s a boy, and Patricia if it’s a girl. Now if it’s twins, we have it going on. Soraya thought you would be pleased.”

  “I am pleased. Has she heard from Trish?”

  Another lie rose to Rashid’s lips. He was sure Allah would forgive him. “If she has, she has not told me. She is not in touch with you?”

  “I’m afraid not. Perhaps today,” Malik said wearily. “Tell me, wise one who professes one minute to know everything about women, then in the next minute, he says he knows nothing about women, how could something so wonderful go so bad in such a short time?”

  Rashid straightened his shoulders. He was glad not to have to lie again. “Because you were stupid and didn’t tell her the truth at the beginning. That’s how.”

  “I should cut your damn tongue out, but, alas, it’s true. Tell me the truth now. Do you think I can make this right? Providing Trish returns.”

  “Of course you can make it right. Trish loves you the way Soraya loves me and the way I love her. End of story.” Rashid looked down at his watch. “Ten minutes, Malik, till we beard the lions. And before you can ask, yes, you look forceful and on top of your game. One last question, Malik. When and how are you going to tell the emirs that you are turning the reins over to your wife, your sister, and me?”

  Malik smiled. “At the end of the meeting, after everything is signed, and the emirs ask if there are any other housekeeping details to be discussed. They have no say. I rule Dubai. Sometimes the things that are not said aloud are the most important. They all know you will be the driving force, and you will run our country as I would. New blood will begin to take over the other emirates. Educated young blood like yourself. That’s where the real power is, Rashid, in education. Even my father saw that when he sent the two of us to the States. He saw the day coming when night would have to give way to light, as he put it. I have not one single worry that the three of you will do all that is right for our country and our people.”

  Rashid’s vision blurred for a moment as he tried to imagine his life without Malik in it. The lump in his throat was so big, he could barely swallow. He nodded and made a sweeping motion with his hand to indicate they needed to head to the meeting room at the other end of the palace.

  Trish entered the VIP lounge at Heathrow and settled herself. A twelve-hour delay! She was beside herself with worry. What was going on? She had sent three texts to Soraya since she’d stepped off the plane and had received only one in return, which was almost laughable.

  I’m kind of busy right now. I think I’m going into labor.

  Trish wasn’t sure how she should respond or if she should respond. She decided to wait a bit to see if Soraya, or possibly Rashid, would send another text. She walked over to the bar and ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and a scotch and soda. She carried both back to a comfortable area that was virtually empty. As she chewed, she checked her other texts. Ah, one that said the sender was unknown. Hoping it was from Ernie’s nameless, faceless friend, she felt her heart take on an extra beat. It was. It was simple and to the point.

  Making headway. Check with Ernie twenty-four hours from the time of this text.

  Trish didn’t know if she should respond or not. She thought about it for a few minutes, and by the time she finished her sandwich, she had sent off a text.

  Am on a twelve-hour layover in London on my way home. Will do as you say.

  Trish finished her drink, disposed of her trash, and decided to take a walk around the airport just to have something to do. She wanted to pick up some reading material in one of the shops to occupy her during the remainder of the flight back to Dubai. And to pick up something for Soraya’s children and Soraya herself. If nothing else, it would give her something to do. Twelve hours seemed like an eternity at the moment.

  Trish strolled along aimlessly, gazing into shop windows, stepping aside more than once to get out of the way of passengers racing toward their flights. She wondered why they were in such a hurry, since most of the planes appeared to be grounded. Finally, she stopped in a bookstore, bought a book by Stella Cameron, her favorite author, a copy of the London Times, and three packages of Life Savers. She was pocketing her change and reaching for the bag the clerk was handing her when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, her eyes almost bugging out of her head.

  “Zack!”

  “Trish! I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure. What are you doing here?”

  Trish’s first thought was, How big he is, how handsome. She’d never seen such blue eyes in her life. “I’m on my way back to Dubai, but the plane got grounded because of the bad weather. What are you doing here?”

  Zack took hold of Trish’s arm and led her away from the long line of people waiting to pay for their purchases. Out in the middle of the terminal, he smiled down at her. “Right now the same thing you’re doing. My flight was grounded two hours ago. No clue when I’ll get out. I’ve just been rambling around to kill time. Let’s go somewhere we can talk. Can I buy you a drink?”

  Trish’s somber mood lightened. This would be a good way to pass the time. “Let’s go into the VIP lounge, although I’m sure it’s crowded by now, but not as bad as out here. I imagine every bar seat has been taken.”

  “I think you have that right,” Zack said, looking around. “Lead the way. I’m right behind you.”

  “What are you doing here?” Trish asked.

  “There was an international conference, and I had to give a speech. Boring as hell, but it was something to do to break up the winter blues. You know how that goes. So, you were stateside, eh? You should have called to say hello. How are things in Dubai? That husband of yours isn’t big on staying in touch of late.” He said this half jokingly, but Trish saw the concern in his eyes. “Plus, you didn’t answer my last text.”

  Trish was relieved when she opened the door to the lounge and saw that the seating area she’d been in still had two vacant seats. She rushed forward and claimed them. Zack laughed out loud at the speed with which she moved. She thought he had a wonderful laugh, and her mood lightened even more.

  “When it’s crowded like this, a steward will come around and take your drink order. They serve food, too, if you’re hungry. I had a very good sandwich a little while ago.”

  A steward appeared out of nowhere, a fussy little man wearing a bow tie, his gaze swiveling about as he tried to calculate his tips. Trish ordered another scotch, and Zack ordered a bourbon on the rocks with a turkey club sandwich.

  Zack leaned forward, his blue-eyed gaze sharp and intent. “Things aren’t quite right, are they?” he said bluntly.

  Trish squirmed in her chair. “What makes you say that?”

  “Well, for one thing, you have dark circles under your eyes, you’re a lot thinner than in the last picture Malik sent to me, and you’re traveling alone. In addition, you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  “Wow. All that in five minutes,” Trish said lightly. “It was more or less a rush trip home. I went to see my sister, who lives in Princeton, New Jersey. Jet lag, burning the candle at both ends, not eating right, and now this. As for the weight, a lady can never be too thin. At least that’s what all the fashion magazines say.”

  “Yes, you can be too thin, and who cares what fashion magazines say! You are too thin,” Zack said bluntly.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you really think?” Trish teased.

  “What I really think is, something is wrong, and you don’t want to talk about it. How’s zat? My mother takes great pride in the fact that she didn’t raise any dummies.”

  In spite of herself, Trish laughed out loud. “Okay, my sister had some problems. I stepped in and am trying to help. It got complicat
ed. Things back in Dubai could be better. I left to go stateside to help clear my head a little.”

  “Did it work?” Zack asked as the steward removed the drinks and food from a silver tray.

  Trish winced. “I really didn’t get a chance to find out. I was summoned home, and that’s why I’m sitting here. My sister-in-law said it was urgent that I return immediately, and she stressed the word immediately. They hired a private jet for me, so I guess it is important. Other than that, I know nothing. It goes without saying, I’m worried.”

  “What do Malik or Rashid say?”

  Trish winced again. “Soraya said I wasn’t to get in touch with either of them, and made me promise. Now you know everything I know.” To show her disgust, she downed her drink in two long gulps. Her eyes started to water with the effects of the alcohol.

  “I’m sorry, Trish. I just want to help. I can’t believe I bumped into you like this. Malik has been on my mind a lot lately. I’ve tried calling him, but he doesn’t respond. The other guys tell me the same thing. I’m sure you know we were always a tight group, and that didn’t change once we all went our separate ways. We were all in touch almost daily up until a few months ago. Then things sort of got shot to hell. I can’t explain it any better than that.”

  Trish nodded. “Yes, that’s when things started to change. At first, it was barely noticeable, then just a tad subtle, then nothing. I thought it had something to do with that archaic law about me not having a child in five years, but that wasn’t it. By the way, that’s been done away with. Malik saw to that, but only just recently. I wish he had done it sooner. It would have saved me a lot of angst. Guess they won’t be kicking me to the curb, after all. Then again, you never know.”

  Zack digested her rapid-fire dialogue and smiled. “Malik always was able to figure out a solution faster than any of us when we were in school. Listen, would you like me to return with you, talk to Malik? I’m more than willing. I have time coming to me, and I can do it if you want me to.”

  “That’s so kind of you, but no. I will promise you, though, that I will let you know what is going on as soon as I find out. Lord, can you imagine Malik’s expression if the two of us walked off the plane together?”

  Zack grinned. “I think that’s a visual I can do without.”

  Trish laughed. “Yeah, me too. So, Zack, tell me about how it was when you all were in school. I’ve heard Malik’s version a thousand times, but I’d really like to hear yours. In case you don’t know it, he considers you the best thing since sliced bread. Don’t ever tell this to anyone, but I think if it was a toss-up between you and Rashid, he’d pick you.”

  “Really!”

  “Yes, really. In his heart of hearts, Malik is American. Unfortunately, he takes his birthright very seriously. He’s happy, but he’s not happy. Does that make sense?”

  “Absolutely. Malik and I have had long discussions on that very subject. I totally understand.”

  “So, tell me all you guys’ secrets.”

  “Well, there was this one time when . . .”

  The four men who made up International Alliance Capital were pacing in the luxurious room they’d been assigned until they were called into the meeting with the seven emirs in Dubai. Not only were they dressed almost alike in five-thousand-dollar Hugo Boss suits, John Lobb shoes, and top-of-the-line Rolexes, but they all also carried the same pricey hand-tooled briefcases crafted from antelope skin. Four of anything garnered a steep discount, as Jeff Davis was fond of saying. And these four men knew a thing or two about discounts.

  All four men were tall, muscular, looked fit and trim, and were heavily tanned. Although all of them were approaching the fifty mark, they could have passed easily for forty. The golf courses in the Middle East were better than a tanning bed in the United States. And anyone with half a brain knew more deals were cut on the golf course than in the boardroom.

  Jason Hart, Clare’s ex-husband, hissed to the others, “I don’t like this. Something is going on. And I think it’s this guy here in Dubai who is stirring the pot. He’s been the most vocal since he took over after his father passed. And on top of that, I got an e-mail from the American embassy telling me to stop by because there was something wrong with my passport. Did any of you guys get that e-mail?”

  “No, but I got an e-mail from my wife this morning, saying our mortgage company is foreclosing on the house in thirty days because we didn’t pay our mortgage. We are up to date on everything. She’s having a fit. Seems the sheriff stuck some kind of paper on our door, and you go to jail if you take it down. Ashley said all the neighbors saw it. What the hell is that all about?” Josh Olsen asked in a jittery voice.

  “Hell, I can top that,” Jeff Davis said. “Simone sent me a text from the club and said she was denied entry. She went there for lunch with some friends. She said they had canceled our membership. Look, that’s all just bullshit. Someone is screwing with us at home. Jealousy is a terrible thing, as we all know. We’ll figure it all out when we get home. Let’s just concentrate on the here and now and what line of bullshit we’re going to give these guys. We need to renew this contract. Do you all understand the word need?”

  “Oh, Jesus,” John Gamble said, looking down at a text that had just appeared. “Gabriella said the bank refused to cash a check for lack of funds. She ran right to the bank and they showed her a zero balance. There was eighty-six thousand dollars in that account when I left to come here.”

  Always the doomsayer of the group, Jason Hart looked at his three partners. “It’s karma. It’s coming to bite our asses. I knew all this was too good to be true. I knew it the minute I dumped Clare after her breast-cancer surgery. What kind of person does a shitty thing like that?”

  “Someone shitty like you, Jason. No one told you to do that. In fact, I told you to stick it out till Clare recovered, but you were so head over heels for Krystal, you just couldn’t wait. So suck up your karma and stay focused,” Jeff said.

  “Easy for you to say, Jeff. It isn’t your passport under scrutiny. Getting bounced out of the country club isn’t quite the same,” Jason replied.

  The leader of the Four Js, as Jeff liked to call his little group, grimaced. “I repeat, let’s just stay focused. I do agree that something here is not quite right. They’ve never let us cool our heels like this before. Focus and stay confident. The first one who wimps out in there will feel my wrath. Understood?”

  “Oh, Christ,” Olsen murmured. “I just got an e-mail saying that I also need to go to the American embassy to straighten out something with my passport. Oh, man, I can just see the four of us being detained here for months.”

  Davis and Gamble looked down at their respective BlackBerries and acknowledged that there were also issues with their passports.

  Jeff Davis’s eyes narrowed. Maybe it was true, the rumor he’d heard that his ex-wife’s sister was married to the emir of Dubai. When he’d first heard the rumor, he’d laughed out loud. It was so ludicrous that he hadn’t even bothered to check it out. Now, right that minute, he wished he had checked it out. His sister-in-law had always hated his guts. His mouth pursed into a tight line, he fired off a text to his daughter, Missy, which was simply one line.

  Do you know where your aunt Trish is these days?

  The return text came immediately. No. Las Vegas, I assume. Do you want me to find out?

  Jeff’s return text was simple. Yes.

  Jeff’s step quickened as he continued to pace. For the first time in his life, he felt jittery, out of control. The return text came in.

  Mom says it’s none of my business where Aunt Trish lives. Mom moved. She lives in the Enclave now.

  Jeff swore under his breath. How the hell could his ex-wife afford a house in the Enclave? Unless . . .

  Jeff was saved from further thoughts when the massive doors opened and a man in a white robe said, “The emirs are ready to see you now, gentlemen.”

  Chapter 18

  ZACK MOLTON GOT UP, ROLLED HIS SHOULDERS
TO EASE THE stiffness, and walked around the VIP lounge, which had become so crowded that it was almost wall-to-wall people. Food, he’d heard a few minutes ago, was in short supply, but the liquor was holding up, and soft drinks were going quickly. He looked at his watch. He was nine hours into his wait since meeting up with Trish, with no word coming over the loudspeaker as to when his flight would be able to leave the ground. He completed his full circle and sat down again before someone snatched his seat. Trish was asleep, curled up in her chair. He knew she was going to have a doozy of a stiff neck when she woke up.

  Zack wished he could sleep, but the only place he could sleep was in his own bed. Even when he traveled, he tossed and turned in strange beds for hours on end, falling asleep only when it was time to get up. He struggled to make his big frame comfortable in the club chair. His cell vibrated in his pocket. Thank God for cell phones and friends to text. The text coming in now was from his friend Duke. He looked at the bars on the phone and knew he was going to need a charge very soon. He’d put his name on the list at the desk to charge his battery, but so far, they hadn’t called his name. He took a moment to wonder how low Trish’s batter y was. Without stopping to think about it, he got up again and walked to the desk, where a clipboard rested, and wrote in Trish’s name. She was number thirty-six on the list. He was number thirty-three, which meant two more people had added their names to the list after him. He refused to calculate the hours he had to go, with each charge lasting only fifteen minutes. He sighed. He could be here for days if the weather didn’t let up.

  He was back in his club chair within seconds. And then, to his own surprise, he felt himself nodding off.

  Two hours later, Trish felt a nudge to her shoulder. She struggled to open her eyes and focus.

  One of the stewards bent low and whispered, “You’re to go to the gate. Your plane is ready to leave.”

  That was all Trish needed to hear. She got up, gathered her gear, then looked down at Zack, who appeared to be in a deep sleep. She hated to leave without saying good-bye, but still, she didn’t want to wake him. She took a minute to fish around in her purse for a pen, then scribbled a short message on a napkin, which she tucked under his chin. Hopefully, he would find it. If not, she’d send him a text when she got on the plane, before takeoff.