The Name of Red

by Beena Khan

  She laughed at his reaction.

  “That wasn’t what I was hoping for,” he replied, sadly. He turned his gaze to the steering wheel.

  “Grey is sexy,” she offered.

  And so are you.

  Kabir turned toward her, and she was afraid he had heard her unspoken words.

  What does she mean? he wondered.

  “What about me?” Kabir blurted out.

  Oh, shit.

  Elif glanced up at him in surprise, as if that was an unexpected question from him.

  “I mean, how do I look, Red?” he corrected himself.

  She turned her body fully toward him and leaned an elbow on the seat. He felt so small under her gaze.

  “Are you expecting compliments?” she asked.

  He gave her a tight lipped smile, and she laughed at his reaction.

  “Fine, you look so handsome. Better than any Grey or anyone else,” she said.

  He grinned at her words feeling like a macho man now.

  “Are you happy now?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Let’s go then,” she said, turning her body toward the road, and she fastened her seatbelt. He started the engine, and he began to drive.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “There’s a nice restaurant a few blocks away from us,” he replied.

  The remainder of the short drive was in silence.

  They found parking and exited the car. Elif saw the restaurant, Beirut. The restaurant was one story tall with a lounge outside for the people eating. Elif thought it was cute how the sitting places had a tent on top of it.

  “How come you don’t have tents in your lounge?” she asked, tilting her face toward his.

  “Not my thing,” he answered.

  “What’s your thing then?”

  Elif noticed he looked up at her in surprise, as if he wanted to say something, but he was hesitating.

  He shook his head. “Let’s go inside.”

  She was curious about what he was going to say but didn’t ask again. Together, they walked inside the restaurant.

  “Are we a pretend couple again?”

  “Obviously, we’re going to dinner,” he replied, looping his arm through hers.

  She grinned at him.

  A young female in a bow tie and black slacks greeted them in the front with a “hello.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before shyly smiling at Kabir.

  “Do you have a reservation?” she asked Kabir only.

  Elif raised an eyebrow at her.

  The young female looked away quickly. It wasn’t that Elif was jealous. She found it strange the server only spoke with Kabir and ignored her as if she wasn’t even there. Elif looked at him with the corner of the eye.

  Well, he looks amazing obviously, she thought with a smile.

  “Hi, my name is Kabir Khan. I made a reservation,” Elif heard him say. She looked at him in surprise.

  A reservation?

  They walked inside. “You made a reservation?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “It gets booked easily. You have to make a reservation one day ahead.”

  “You take reservations at your place too?” she asked, curious.

  “For larger groups, yes,” he answered.

  Soon, they were seated by the window. Elif folded her hands in front of her and inspected her surroundings. The restaurant was painted in pastel and neutral colors. The walls were painted white, and the tables were pastel, light brown colors. There were candles and red roses on the table.

  “This feels romantic and cozy,” she said slowly and observed the man, her pretend boyfriend and also her date, in front of her.

  Kabir innocently shrugged in response.

  She hid a smile.

  He thinks he’s slick?

  “Are we on a date?” Elif asked.

  “You’re the one who wanted to go to a restaurant,” he said, narrowing her eyes at her.

  “You’re right, I did,” she replied. She opened the menu and began to read. “I want the lamb chops only with wine,” she said.

  Keep dinner light, don’t lead him on.

  She looked up at him. “What do you want?” she asked.

  “That’s all you’re getting?” he asked, his forehead puckered.

  She simply nodded, and he frowned at her in return. “Okay, I’ll get chicken kebab skewers only,” he replied.

  A server came to take the order.

  It’s a female again. Why are all females coming?

  She noticed the rest of the servers were males. She also noticed how the server looked at Kabir and took him in. Her eyes traveled from Kabir’s suit to his face.

  “Hello, sir. I’m Tina,” the server introduced herself. “How are you doing today?” she asked Kabir.

  What about me? Elif thought in amusement.

  “We’re great,” Elif bit out.

  The server turned to look at her as if noticing her for the first time. She quickly took the order and left. Elif stared at the server in annoyance. Then, she turned her head back and saw Kabir staring.

  “What?” she asked.

  “That was a pretty hostile reaction,” Kabir said slowly, a grin pulling on his face.

  Way to throw my words back at me.

  She was silent and studied him the entire time. Time went on like this. The candles around Kabir illuminated his face. She watched his fingers drumming on the table. She leaned back in her chair and put a finger on her chin.

  I never noticed how attractive he actually is.

  Apparently, Kabir noticed her studying him and he asked, “What?”

  “I can’t believe you’re wearing a suit,” she said. “I could have worn an evening gown or something.”

  He grinned. “Your outfit is nice and casual.”

  She pouted. “You’re taking my shine away. Everyone is looking at you.”

  “Good. Now you know how I feel,” he said, smiling. “Are you jealous?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied, quickly.

  “Sure.” He was hiding a smile.

  “I am not!” she defended herself. “They’re just ignoring me and looking at you only which is rude because I’m with you as a couple, pretend or not.”

  The food order came and they began to eat without speaking.

  After ten minutes, Elif said in a small voice, “I miss your bar.”

  Kabir looked up at her words. “You feel ignored here?” he asked.

  She nodded slowly.

  “You wanna leave?”

  They had finished eating by now.

  She nodded again.

  “You wanna go back to our bar?” he asked.

  He said our bar.

  She grinned in return. He looked at the time, it was ten minutes past nine. “Okay, let’s go,” he replied.

  He asked for the bill. When the bill came, Elif protested and wanted to pay her own half, but Kabir insisted, “I’m your pretend gentleman boyfriend. Let me please.”

  “Fine,” she replied, giving in.

  They left the restaurant and began to drive back to his restaurant.

  “Well, this was a terrible first dinner date,” he concluded which resulted in Elif laughing.

  She shrugged at him. “Maybe we’re not dinner people. We’re chilling at the bar people,” she replied.

  He shook his head at her, smiling.

  “Are you going to wear your suit at your restaurant too?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied.

  “Take it off,” she ordered softly.

  He looked at her in surprise.

  “I mean, everyone will look at you,” she corrected herself.

  “You had no problem when people looked at you when we went to a different bar,” he said grinning.

  She rolled her eyes at him in annoyance. “People look at you like Christian Grey walked in the room, and I’m poor Anastasia who gets left behind.”

  Kabir laughed at her. “You’re honestly jeal
ous because I was the center of attention today?” he asked. “Why can’t I be an alpha today?”

  “You didn’t even want to be Christian Grey, and you sound whiny,” Elif observed.

  “You sound... kinda bruised,” Kabir said softly.

  Bruised? Even his comebacks are so polite.

  She wanted to laugh.

  “Whatever,” Elif managed to huff out.

  They reached the bar, and Kabir began to take off his blazer and vest. Her eyes widened at the sight. She noticed how his arms flexed when he took off the blazer.

  “Am I getting a strip show?” she teased him.

  Kabir turned beet red.

  “You’re a very flirtatious person,” he admitted. He turned toward Elif who was clapping joyfully at the removal of his suit.

  “I speak my truth,” she replied.

  “Don’t get too happy and think I’m taking it off because you asked earlier. I know most of the customers, and I feel weird around them in a suit,” he said, wagging a finger at her.

  She nodded in glee, and they began getting out of the car. Suddenly, Kabir’s phone beeped loudly. He took out his phone to look at it. Over his shoulder, Elif noticed it was the Athan app that was giving him an Islamic prayer notification for Isha.

  They headed inside. It was crowded as usual with music playing. She waved at Arayn at the bar. He looked at them and took them both in together.

  “Where were you two?” he accused them.

  “Date night,” Elif replied.

  Aryan’s eyes widened in response and slowly looked at Kabir for confirmation.

  “More like her new idea of exploring other restaurants,” he countered.

  “Clearly that didn’t turn out too well. You’re back in an hour,” Aryan replied.

  Elif laughed, taking a seat on the bar stool and ordered wine.

  Kabir remembered Elif looking at his phone. He took a seat next to her and turned toward her. He asked, “It’s time for prayers. Do you practice your faith?”

  Elif paused at her drink. “I don’t pray salaah, prayers, I don’t believe I'm worthy anymore. I like to believe I’m spiritual.” She turned her face toward his. “I know you pray. You pray five times a day?”

  “I don’t pray as much as I should. I pray three out of the five daily prayers,” he confessed. Then he asked, “Do you think you’re going to go to hell?”

  Elif looked at him, surprised.

  I should shut up, Kabir thought.

  “I’m not judging but as a Muslim, you drink and you dress a certain way. Aren’t you afraid of God’s judgment?”

  Elif was silent before she answered, “You know, before Islam came, before the Holy Qur’an, before any religion came, some people believed in Allah. They prayed, but they didn’t have a book to guide them on how to live.”

  Kabir was confused but waited for her to finish.

  “Maybe I’m just one of those people from that era. The people who believed and prayed... spiritually.”

  Kabir smiled in realization.

  “There’s a story of a Muslim man who prayed. Another man walked past him and realized he was praying differently than the ‘correct’ way of praying. The man who walked by, asked the other man, ‘What are you doing? You’re praying all wrong.’”

  Kabir’s ears tuned to her face. He liked it when she spoke about religion. He watched in fascination as she spoke. He watched her lips move as they formed the words they were speaking.

  Elif continued saying, “The man who was praying was embarrassed. He asked, ‘How should I pray then?’ The man who corrected him and began explaining the right way, but the man who was praying couldn’t understand it. The ‘right’ prayer method was different from his own.”

  She turned her face toward him and smiled.

  “The man who was praying tried to practice this new method but he failed. He resumed back to his old method. Do you know, it wasn’t that he was praying all wrong that mattered to God but his devotion?” she asked.

  Kabir waited for her to continue.

  “People who believe shouldn’t go to hell even if they don’t pray or pray wrong. I don't think I’ll go to heaven since I’m not a saint and I have sinned. People like me might have our own place up there,” she said nodding upward. She looked at him, “You’re definitely going to heaven though.”

  Kabir blushed and fidgeted with his hands. “No, I’m not.”

  “You believe. You pray. You help the homeless.” She smiled as she looked at Aryan who was serving drinks. “You give zakaat. You don’t look at women. You even avoid looking at me. You will go to heaven. I pray to God that you do.”

  He looked up at her, his warm brown eyes meeting her cool, blue ones. Her eyes were gentle and kind. She touched his arm before moving her hand away. His eyes were drawn to the spot on his arm she just touched. Suddenly, his face grew warm and he felt a heat and desire he couldn’t explain.

  She made him nervous, a feeling he avoided.

  He excused himself and left her drinking, waiting to wash away his dark thoughts.

  Elif stared after Kabir after he left.

  She turned toward Aryan.

  “Do you think I make him nervous?” she asked.

  Aryan chuckled. “You could make any guy nervous.”

  Elif stared at him right in the eye. “Clearly I don’t have the same effect on you.”

  He shook his head, grinning. “No, you don’t make me nervous, but you made a strong impact.”

  Elif looked up at him in shock, a wide smile forming on her face.

  Then, Aryan grimaced. “Then, you made us brothers.”

  Elif burst out laughing. She hadn’t expected this at all.

  “I thought you didn’t notice. I thought you were immune to my charm.”

  Aryan continued saying, “Don’t think I consider you my sister because I don’t. If you’re looking for a brotherly bond, go somewhere else.”

  She was amused. “But I thought we were brothers.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, brothers. Not brother and sister. It’s different. I consider you a bro like the rest of my guy friends, like family.”

  “Why can’t I be your sister?” she asked.

  He stopped making the drink, and looked up at her in surprise. He rolled his eyes at her. “Which sane man wants to make you his sister?”

  She laughed loudly catching the attention of the people near her.

  “You’re sorta... pretty. So no.”

  Elif’s cheeks began to hurt from smiling too much. “How come you never made a move on me?” she asked.

  Aryan shrugged. “I still miss Aanaah,” he confessed.

  “I would like to think I’m shocked, but this is hilarious. I thought you’re still heartbroken,” she replied.

  He chuckled. “Well, I’m heartbroken but not dead.”

  Elif lost her smile for a moment at the word, dead but composed herself and kept a smile plastered on her face.

  “I want red wine please,” she requested.

  “I noticed, as your bartender. You drink red when you’re happy. One red wine coming right up,” Aryan said, before turning away to make her drink.

  Chapter 18

  “Kabir, what new books do you have for me today? I would like something to read,” Elif asked Kabir the next day.

  He had a new book with him and placed it on the table. He was getting better at understanding Elif’s preferences in books. She read many books, so he was careful in choosing his books to something she would like specifically.

  He placed the book, A Woman is No Man by Etaf Rum on the table. She arched her eyebrow at the title, but then she caught the author's name.

  “Are you purposefully giving me books of authors similar to names to me?” she accused him.

  “No,” he replied, but a secretive smile played on his lips.

  “Yes, you are,” Elif narrowed her eyes at him as she picked up the book.

  She opened the first page, and within five minutes of reading
the book, she was engrossed in the character Deya. Deya is an Arab-American and she’s beginning to have many suitors, possible men she could marry but she doesn’t want to.

  Kabir asked her a question, but Elif was no longer paying attention to him anymore. Kabir noticed she was consumed by the book and the character Deya who wanted to make her own choices without defying her family.

  Kabir smiled at her before walking away.

  ❖

  Kabir asked Elif the day after, if she had liked the book.

  “Like? You know I would love any book about an oppressed minority within an oppressed minority,” she beamed at him.

  I know, he thought.

  “That was a feminist book though,” Elif observed him.

  He remained silent.

  “Honest truth. I'm curious, are you a feminist?” Elif posed the question in such a way Kabir couldn’t refuse to answer.

  “Yes.”

  He stared at her in the eye, but he tucked his hands into the front of his jean pockets. He was confident of his answer, but his movements wavered. Whenever he was nervous, anxiety began to build up within him, and he tried to tuck himself within his own body.

  He liked Elif’s confidence, and he admired her, but his confidence wavered when it came to her. She threw him off sometimes. He wasn't weak, and she didn't belittle him. It had taken him years to build up his confidence after he was bullied in his childhood. He wasn’t a smooth talker when it came to conversing with women, yet women were drawn to him without him trying, primarily because of his wealth and his strong looks.

  Elif grinned at him. “I knew it when I saw Bad Feminist in your book collection.”

  Kabir ran his hands through his hair, tousling it, unsure of what to do. Elif was, of course, taking the pleasure in making him squirm.

  “What do you think about women who are bold and dominating?” Elif asked.

  He smiled. “Are you asking about yourself?” he asked.

  She shrugged as she sipped her drink coyly. “I’m one of many.”

  “I didn’t think much of them until you waltzed in my bar,” he admitted. Elif was silent, as she waited for him to continue. He took a deep breath and continued, “Being dominating isn’t bad. It can empower others. I’m not really a dominating person,” he said, his cheeks pinkening.