“Um, it’s okay to say a guy escorts a girl. But when you say a girl escorts a guy, it, well…” How could she explain this without embarrassing him? She couldn’t.
“Yes?”
She pushed away from the wood and murmured into his ear, “It means that woman is a prostitute.”
“Oh.” The color rushed to his cheeks. “I am sorry. I did not mean to—”
“You didn’t offend me.” Yeah, right. Her nose detected the faint scent of his aftershave, a rich, spicy scent that sent quivers down her spine. Did she detect the faint crackling of the electricity she’d felt? Sorry. Wrong guy. Remember who he is. No more electricity. “It’s all right. A simple mistake.”
“But one I will not make again.”
“I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow.”
“Your mother said you will teach me all about weddings and Charleston.”
“Hopefully. We’ve got a lot to cover.” She smiled. “And I don’t mind squiring you around town.”
“Squiring?”
Before she realized it, she winked. “A tasteful way of saying I will innocently escort you around town.”
“I—I see. Well, good night, Claire Montgomery.” Ziad saluted her with his cigarette. “It was so good to meet you in person.”
Once behind the wheel of the Mustang, she glanced at him. That gaze. One of curiosity and sincerity, almost like he wanted to be her friend. No. She’d fulfill her promise to Emma, but that was it. No more.
Then why did she get that feeling she’d be seeing a lot more of him than intended?
9
Ziad leaned against the post of the Montgomery’s front porch. A cool breeze bearing scents from the hot pink azaleas in a front shrub bed washed over his face. Birds twittered and darted among the branches of the pecan trees lining the driveway. To thwart the nerves tingling along his spine, he lifted a cigarette, his first of the day, to his lips and took a puff. He exhaled into air rapidly warming in the sun.
Behind him, a newspaper crinkled as Claire’s father, David, turned pages.
“Hey, my friend.”
He shifted.
Coffee mug in hand, Ben settled his lanky frame on a rocking chair. He swung his bare feet onto the porch railing. “Something tells me you’re going to be the one having all of the fun today.”
Fun? Perhaps that wasn’t the term Ziad would have used. Maybe only if he let down his guard, something hard to do with Claire. She intrigued him, for sure. A beauty, one only a few centimeters shorter than he and with deep green eyes matching the finest jade in Jeddah. An undercurrent of standoffishness fairly crackled beneath her mannerly exterior. Why, he didn’t know, and he didn’t dare ask Emma or Ben.
“Ziad?”
“So sorry. I was thinking.” About Claire, he almost blurted. “Why do you say that?”
A lazy smile crossed Ben’s face. “Claire’s a nice person. And a beauty. She’s—”
“Son, remember I’m here.” David Montgomery gazed at his future son-in-law over the top of the paper.
Ben laughed. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s better” David laid the paper on his lap. “Ziad, you’ll be in good hands. Claire loves Charleston history.”
Ben pushed against the railing. “Remember a couple of things Don’t stare at people, especially women, in shorts.”
Ziad nodded as he remembered Ben’s advice about firm handshakes.
“And don’t use Southern terminology because you’ll come across as making fun of them.”
Absolutely. Especially with Claire. That delicate scent of the shampoo or perfume she’d worn the night before lingered in his nose.
He heard the music first, then the growl of the yellow Mustang’s engine as Claire turned into the long drive.
David rose. “There they are.”
Ziad took another puff as the car drew closer and pulled into the circular drive in front of the house. It stopped at the steps.
The two women hopped out.
“Daddy!” Emma ran up the steps, hugged her father, and kissed him on the cheek.
Interesting. Still her father’s daughter even with her fiancé mere meters away.
She quickly disengaged and smiled at Ziad. “Good morning. You slept well?”
“I did. Thank you.” Ziad turned and jabbed his cigarette into a saucer Allison had supplied as an ashtray.
“Good morning, Ziad.”
At that slow drawl, his attention swiveled to the tall brunette in front of him.
Sweat broke out on his hands, and for a moment—a brief moment—he forgot to breathe. Ben’s advice suddenly tangled in his head. Was he staring? What should he say? The English words fled. Say something. Now. “I—I like that color of shirt you are wearing.”
Oh, no.
Ben snickered and turned it into a sneeze.
Claire brushed her shirt of jade green. “Thank you. It’s one of my favorite colors.” She coughed. “Are you ready to go? We’ve got a lot to see.”
He nodded and followed her down the steps to the convertible.
“I’ll have him back by dark.” Claire winked. “Or later.”
“Y’all have fun.” Ben wrapped his arm around Emma’s shoulders. “Remember you’ll have more fun, my friend.”
Emma mock-punched him on the shoulder.
He laughed.
Claire slid behind the wheel. “I hope you have comfortable shoes on.”
“Ben suggested running shoes.”
She started the engine.
Music blared from the speakers, and he jumped.
She quickly turned it down. “Sorry. Em and I were singing Martina McBride songs on the way over here.” She put the car in gear, and they rumbled down the driveway. “Have you been away from the house yet?”
“No. It was nice to rest yesterday.”
“I’m sure.” They slowed, then turned left. “Do you like country music?”
He chose honesty. “I do not know.”
She lowered her sunglasses and gazed over the rims at him. “You don’t know?”
His hands moistened. “I did not listen to music in Saudi Arabia.”
“It’s sinful, right?”
Ziad stiffened at the cutting edge in her voice. Judging already, eh?
She focused straight ahead. “What do you know about the South?”
“Only what your aunt, uncle, Ben, and Emma told me.”
“But what did you expect to see here?”
He paused and tried to collect his thoughts as he slid on his own pair of sunglasses. “I do not know. When I was a child, I heard about a series called Gray and Blue.”
Claire glanced at him. “That’s too funny.”
“What do you mean?”
“Gray and Blue was filmed at Sutton Hall, which is right next door to Mama and Daddy’s property.”
“Really?”
“Yep. You’ll see it on Friday.” The light turned, and as they proceeded down US 17. Noise and breeze surrounded him.
“This is the main highway between Mount Pleasant and Charleston.”
They paused at another light. With it quieter, he picked up on the mellow strains of the music. Strange as it was, he enjoyed the female voice. “This is your Martina?”
“The one and only.” Her teeth flashed against her lips. The light turned, and they accelerated onto the bridge. “Charleston, here we come.”
What a beautiful bridge with pilings jutting from the water and cabling supporting the deck. Tangy scents reminding him of the water in the port of Jeddah washed over him, and tense muscles in his shoulders began relaxing. Maybe this day would truly mark a new beginning.
Claire glanced at him. “You doing okay? Not too much wind, is it?”
“No, no. I like it. This is a beautiful bridge.”
“Isn’t it? It’s so much better than the other ones. They were so old I was afraid they’d fall into the river.” She nodded to her right. “That’s the Cooper River, by the way. Welcome to Charleston. Wha
t suits your fancy?”
“My fancy?” Ben hadn’t taught him that one.
“Do you want some breakfast? Or a cool drink? Or coffee? Because what you want to do will dictate where we go first.”
“I ate with your parents. Coffee is good.”
“Then I’ll take you to my alma mater.”
“Which is?”
“College of Charleston.” They exited from the highway. Soon, the buildings of a college campus appeared on the right. She drove past them and parallel parked near a coffee shop. “Here we are. I sometimes meet Faith here on Saturday mornings.”
“Your youngest sister, yes?”
“Almost. Second to youngest. She graduates in May. Grace is younger by ten minutes and graduates from Clemson next year since she’s majoring in civil engineering. C’mon. Their coffee is to die for. What do you want? I’ll be glad to get it.”
“A Coffee of the Day.”
“Grab a table. I’ll be right back.” Claire pushed her way inside.
Ziad found a table next to one of the picture windows of the storefront. Once seated, he deeply inhaled. More scents emanated from the flowering shrubs and trees across the street. He gazed around him. So different from Jeddah. Lots of trees. Laughter. And the women? He caught himself gawking at a college girl wearing pajama bottoms and a top that left her shoulders bare. And the two who strolled by in tank tops and shorts. He focused on the cigarette pack he put on the table, then a newspaper someone had left. A headline caught his attention.
2 Teens Dead from Zap Overdoses.
His gut tightened. Here? In the States?
“Here we go.” Claire plopped onto a chair across from him and set some cream and sugar on the table. “Do you want any of this?”
“I like my coffee black.”
“Suit yourself.” She dumped generous portions of each into hers.
Ziad took a sip. Good, but not as good as his favorite place in Jeddah. “What does being best man entail?”
“You didn’t talk about this on the flights over?”
“No.” Because I wanted to be left alone then.
“We’ll start at the beginning. As you found out last night, one of your functions is to be my date for the weekend.”
How could he forget?
“You’re my escort for the weekend, yes?” He winked.
“No, you’re my escort.” A smile quirked her lips. “Thursday is a party thrown by some of Mama and Daddy’s friends. Friday, the festivities officially start with the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. The rehearsal is when we meet at the church and learn about how the ceremony will go. You don’t mind stepping into a church, do you?”
Yes, but I refuse to offend Ben and Emma. “No.”
“It doesn’t take long. Maybe an hour, hour and a half tops. You’ll meet the rest of the wedding party and the family. Then we head to Sutton Hall for the rehearsal dinner. That’s a big party. We’ve gotten lucky in that a lot of Mama and Daddy’s friends have gone in together and planned an after-rehearsal-dinner party for out-of-town guests and the wedding party.”
A nice idea, for sure.
“Also, the best man’s traditionally responsible for the bachelor party.”
He frowned. “What is that?”
“When the guys, usually the groomsmen, celebrate the groom’s last day or night of singleness.” She took a deep breath. “It can get kind of wild. Lots of drinking. Maybe a stripper.”
What? Ben would never stand for that. Would he?
She leaned forward. “From what I understand, one of Ben’s college buddies is taking care of it, and no worries on that end. Ben will fill you in. I think it’s on Wednesday. Meanwhile, we’re having the bachelorette party for Emma that same night.”
She smiled, and mischief glinted in her eyes.
“What are you going to do?”
“A girls’ gathering for supper. We’re probably going to watch movies at my house.”
Much more his speed. “Perhaps I should come to your house.”
She shot him a look. “Sorry. No can do. Girls only. Back to Friday. At the rehearsal dinner, you and I have an important duty.”
“What is that?”
“Normally, toasts are given at the reception, but Emma and Ben wanted them to be at the rehearsal dinner.”
A toast? Was that a Southern thing? “Forgive me, but what is a toast?”
“Oh, a short speech, usually complimenting the couple.” She shrugged and sipped her coffee. “It doesn’t have to be long. Maybe a minute or two.”
A minute or two? Of course he’d spoken publicly many times during his career. This was different. Scarier. Especially in a second language. He shuddered.
Claire must have noticed because she added, “You’ll do fine. On Saturday, you’ve got five duties. First, you hold Emma’s ring until the time in the ceremony when they exchange rings.” She ticked off the next item on her finger. “Second, Daddy will give you the fee for the minister. Once the ceremony finishes, you’ll give it to him. Third, you’ll sign the marriage certificate with me. Fourth, you’ll run interference with me during pictures because the groom isn’t allowed to see the bride until the ceremony.”
Another phrase he didn’t understand. “Run interference?”
“Keep them separated. I’ll help. Don’t worry. And last and most importantly.” She ticked off the last item. “You’ll keep Ben from running away.”
She’d lost him. He cocked his head. “I do not understand. Why would he do that?”
“Weren’t you nervous when you got married?”
He bristled. “I think that is a bit personal.”
“Well?”
What a pushy woman!
“Of course I was.” No, I was cocky at the age of twenty when I lifted the veil concealing Sabirah’s face.
At his silence, her eyes narrowed. Then she shrugged and took another sip. “I think Ben recognizes the magnitude of what’s about to happen. To have another person completely and fully know him. And to love him despite all faults. And to care for her and future children. I think it’d make even the most confident man quake in his shoes.”
Too true. “After the ceremony?”
“You escort me from the church, and we head to the reception, which will be at Mama and Daddy’s. They’ll introduce the wedding party, and then we’ll have the bride and groom’s first dance. You and I will also do that dance as best man and maid of honor. Then you’ll dance with Emma, and I’ll dance with Ben.”
His stomach churned on the coffee. He gaped at her. How could he dance? I can’t do that. It’s bad enough that I’m paired with an unmarried woman. He began shaking his head.
“What?” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s so bad about dancing?”
“I do not dance.”
“But it’s custom. It’s not complicated. I can teach you.”
“Perhaps so, but I will not.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ziad!”
“I am sorry.”
“You don’t do any dancing?”
“The Bedouin sword dance?” His attempt at humor fell flat.
“Look. I hate to say it, but you’re also going to have to dance with Emma. If you can’t lower that Saudi male pride of yours, you’re going to ruin a perfectly good time.” Claire jumped to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back in a moment.”
She turned away, but not before he saw tears in her eyes. She yanked the door open.
So much for the kind, compassionate woman Ben had described. Who cares? It’s not going to happen. He conveniently scooted past the fact that he’d offer her his arm for the walk down the aisle.
Such a thought started the shakes in him. He shook out his second cigarette of the day and lit it. Maybe that would soothe the nerves that had begun jangling because of their conversation.
#####
“I only do the Bedouin sword dance.” Claire mimicked Ziad’s accent as she pushed open a stall door in the bathroom and stomped to the sink. What
a jerk!
She glared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes had reddened. So much for a good day. Hah! As she continued her monologue, she scrubbed her hands so hard they heated up. “It’s a silly dance.” Hardly. “And I’m stuck with the most bizarre best man on the planet!” She took deep breaths and willed herself to calm down. “Lord, you’re trying my patience in a big way here.” She shook her head. “Thanks for nothing. And now, I’m stuck with him for the day as well.”
Before shoving open the door, she took a breath. Lord, don’t let me leave him in the middle of Charleston. It’s a mighty long walk back to Mount Pleasant. Once at the counter to ask for a cup of water, she stared through the front window.
Ziad slouched on his chair with his elbows on the table. Smoke streamed from the end of a cigarette, probably something he’d done to calm his nerves. The corners of his mouth turned down as he lifted a page of the newspaper she’d seen on the table.
Suddenly, Mama’s words from two days before washed over her. He’d lost his entire family only a year ago. Maybe she should go easier on him. She rejoined him. “How many of those do you smoke a day?”
He smoothed down the newsprint as his face slid into a neutral expression. “Four.”
She gawked. “Four packs?”
“No. Cigarettes.”
“Whew. I was worried for a second.”
He chuckled, a rich sound that rested easy on her ears. “I am very—how do you say it?—health conscious.”
Uh, no you’re not. “Me too. Shall we? Charleston calls our names.”
He rose and offered his arm. “We shall. Practice for next weekend?’
“Absolutely.” She took his arm. As she did, that spicy aftershave hit her nostrils. She wanted to slide closer to him. What? Uh, uh. “I still have much to teach you.”
The day turned upward from there as they found a parking spot downtown and spent the afternoon walking around. As she explained the city’s history, she found him to be a willing student with his questions. Her guard began dropping, especially as he charmed her with that smile of his. Maybe next weekend would work out.
The sun set. Her stomach rumbled. “Do you like seafood?”
“Of course.”
“Then I know of the perfect place.” Before she realized it, she took his hand and led him toward an intersection. Her cheeks heated, and she dropped it. “This is some of the best casual dining in town.”
Exiled Heart Page 8
