by Gus Leodas
“Single, single, single.”
“Why would such a handsome man be unmarried? You must have a dozen women after you.”
“There’s the problem. I love them all.” They laughed. “Have you ever been married, Alise?”
“Still holding out.”
“How come such a beautiful woman hasn’t been cornered yet?”
“Soon.”
“You have someone?”
“Back home. You don’t know him.”
“Then he’s a fool for not marrying you to keep you from coming here. How could he let you leave?”
“He’s a fool.” They laughed again.
“Alise, I want to know you better. Do you think your man in Syria will object?”
Ali had better get here fast.
“I’m certain he will.”
“Would he object to a dinner some evening?”
“He’s the jealous kind.”
“We’ll keep it a secret.”
“It will be my bad luck he’ll find out.”
“You have drawn me to you since the moment I first saw you.”
“Fateh, are you romancing me?” Someone knocked on the door. Just in time. “That must be Ali. I’ll get it.”
His words stopped her. “No, it isn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“I know. That’s room service.”
She seemed skeptical, not knowing whether he was right or guessing. She opened the door; room service. She looked at Kabani. He smiled an I-told-you-so. Alise turned suspicious. The waiter opened the bottle, poured two glasses, and left. Kabani gulped the two glasses like water with a hungry expression about to have filet mignon. He leered at her with a smug look.
“I told you it wasn’t Ali. He’s not coming back.”
Perplexed, she asked, “Why?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She called Ali’s office number. No answer. Then she called his apartment dialing slowly, praying he wasn’t home. She refused to believe he abandoned her to Kabani. Did he want her to sleep with him?
The phone rang once, twice before answered.
“Hello.”
“Ali, this is Alise.”
He hung up. She cradled the receiver stunned and mortified. The hurt ran deep. She revised her posture then sat opposite Kabani. She had to escape this trap without offending him. Ali probably made some wild promises.
How could he?
How could he?
“Fateh, once again you are right. I didn’t know you would go to extremes.”
“I wanted to be alone with you ever since I saw you.”
“When you see Ali, thank him for accommodating. He had to rush to the office. That’s team work.”
“I will when I see him Monday. Tomorrow I’m going to Washington for the weekend, a change in plans. On Monday, I’ll extend my gratitude when he meets me at the airport.”
“I’ll see him tomorrow at the office and have a few words also.”
“Don’t be harsh on him.”
“I won’t be harsh at all. I’ll drink to your mutual scheme.”
“That’s right. Drink up and relax,” Kabani encouraged.
She drank the pain Ali inflicted along with the entire glass.
“I’ll have another.”
“Brava!” He filled the glass. “You’re pleased Ali and I pulled this maneuver?”
“Not entirely. I enjoy being alone with you. I suspect you both prefer we spend the night together. I become your playmate and Ali becomes your big hero. I love your company but I can’t sleep with you.”
“If you can’t sleep here then let’s have some fun, become better acquainted then you can leave if you wish. I’ll be spending more time in New York, as you know, and want to spend it with you. Tonight can be more than a ‘one-nighter’, so to speak. I am attracted to you.”
“I don’t want to offend you but a relationship between us is impossible.”
“Why?”
“As I mentioned, I have someone back home. I can love only one man at a time. When I return home and my lover no longer attracts me, I’ll happily call you for a rendezvous.”
“I see. That differs from what Ali told me.”
She reacted shocked Ali would tell him anything about her other than how well she did her work.
“What did he tell you?” She held her breath, waiting.
“He said you can love more than one man at a time.”
He must be bluffing!
“I’m sorry,” she said looking confused. “I don’t understand the game you two are playing. I wish you’d be straightforward instead of coy.”
“All right, I will. You’re playing cat and mouse with me in protecting your virtue, but Ali told me you used to work as a prostitute.”
Her mind spun and legs wobbled as nausea ran through her body. Hard as she tried to prevent them from happening, the weak force couldn’t stop tears from flooding her eyes.
Kabani knew he hurt her, his need more important. His posture lacked compassion or apology as he watched her cry. He thought it an act to defend her injured and false virtue, waited for her act to end. He was the defense minister of Syria, important, a man who could do her favors in the future. She’d be crazy to pass up the opportunity to sleep with him.
Alise entered her own terrible world, a demeaning ugly place without any future. Her Ali thoughts grew violent.
That bastard!
She sniffled hard. “That’s a life I’m trying to forget. I’m surprised and shocked he told you, and doesn’t mean I’ll go to bed with you.”
“I don’t understand why we can’t?”
She needed to strike back at Ali. “I’m pregnant.”
He looked at her body. “You don’t appear so.”
“Second month.”
“I’ll be damned. You cheated on your lover in Syria.”
“Ali is the father.”
“What? You’re joking.”
“Been his mistress for three years. We slipped one time.”
“Aha! No wonder you were hurt. Your lover set you up and you’re offended. Now I know why he brought you to this country.”
“He wanted his professional piece regularly.”
“I don’t blame him. I envy him, but he should be discreet in the future as an ambassador. Dumb decisions can damage Syria. Nothing is more important. It reflects on discipline.”
“Knowing, you still want to go to bed with me?”
“Of course.” He began removing his shirt. Alise watched in a clinical manner.
“You’re excited about screwing me?” she asked with sarcasm.
“I want to make love to you. The other word doesn’t sound romantic.”
“There’s no love between us. Is fuck better?”
The shirt came off then the T-shirt. He undid the belt and stepped away from the pants, then shoes and socks. He stopped at the shorts.
“Don’t stop there, go all the way.”
Hesitant, he removed the shorts and stood naked then approached her impatient to embrace.
“Stop.” He did. “Sit for a minute. We have business to discuss.”
“What business?” He sat.
If she had asked him to jump five times, he would have.
“I’m a pro, remember?”
“You want me to pay you?”
“There’s no other way unless you rape me, and I don’t advise that.”
“How much?”
“For you, I’m moderately expensive. A discount is limited because I’ll have a child to support. How much am I worth to you? You’ll get the full treatment.”
“One hundred dollars.”
“Don’t insult me. For a hundred you can get somebody off the streets.”
“What do I have to pay?”
“One thousand dollars, American. That’s discount down from two.”
When Kabani delayed, Alise headed for the door.
“Wait.” She stopped. He pulled the wallet from his pants and counted. “All I have is six hun
dred dollars.”
“Not enough.”
“That’s all I have.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. Tell Ali one thing and you won’t owe me the balance. If you don’t tell him, the four hundred is payable when you return from Washington. If you fail to pay me, the world will know about us. Further, I’ll throw in a bonus. Tell Ali this one item and you can have a night…no, a whole day in bed with me on your return next week. Deal?”
She made the offer he couldn’t refuse.
“Deal.”
“Give me the money.” She accepted the six hundred dollars and put them in her purse.
Undressing, she forced her mentality to evolve to her former profession, an entrepreneur, an actor. She exposed her breasts. She left the panties on. His eyes filled with her.
“I thought of one additional item. First, tell Ali you had to pay me. Ask him to reimburse you since he put you in this position.”
“I will do so.” His eyes roamed and lusted. He would’ve agreed to anything. “What’s the second item for Ali?”
“I have your word you’ll tell him?”
“You have my word on my honor. I want that day with you. I want you now.”
Alise sat next to him, kissed his cheek, and spoke to his ear.
“Tell Ali I told you that he’s my baby’s father.”
Alise hurt.
She never hurt more. Kabani was yesterday, and yesterday she performed her best theatrical act and display for Kabani then left with her shattered dreams.
Alise performed driven to spite Ali, her way of striking back, being paid another. Alise wept during her paid performance. Kabani, in his own sphere of pleasure, never noticed.
She mourned for her dignity; for her rejection; for the demeaning position Ali had placed her; for his lack of respect; for her love for him; for her baby; for her future; for Ali’s disregard and contempt for her feelings.
Ali treated her as recycled garbage.
She mourned for her, or was it for her weakness?
Alise knew two things the next morning after a torturous night with a pack of cigarettes; she won’t feel sorry for herself or wallow in his aftermath, not anymore. She tired crying; everyday, it seemed. She also swore to stop smoking to protect the baby.
At eleven o’clock looking her best, she headed for the office. Today was payday, a reason to pick up her check. What if she saw Ali? What would she say? How would she act?
On this clear blue-sky morning making the city sparkling fresh, she was a loser, a shitty day.
From now on, Ali was strictly an employer, nine to five. The baby was hers, to decide her child’s destiny without him, and continue her job in spite having to look at Ali. If she had to return to Syria, so be it.
Six hundred dollars equaled good part-time pay. Kabani would receive his reward as promised if he held up his end of the bargain. She would know if he did. Ali would phone her, turn into a raving lunatic, and call her an idiot for telling Kabani he fathered her child. Was she crazy or something trying to destroy his career? You crazy bitch!
That argument would continue away from the office. He won’t pollute his professional atmosphere. She looked forward to the phone call.
How sweet revenge felt.
The paycheck waited on her desk, Ali in his office. She girded on how to act elevating energies for another performance. She bounced into his office bubbling full of life and smiles.
“Good morning.”
Ali looked awkward at a loss for words. Why was she happy? Did something go wrong last night?
“Hi,” he mumbled. He remained behind his desk hiding in the security of professional posture.
She closed the door, kissed his cheek then sat in the visitor’s chair. The Syrian flag draped improperly to her satisfaction, made adjustments and sat again, a delaying tactic.
“What happened to you last night?”
“Well, I…I felt sick on the way back and didn’t want Kabani to see me in that condition. I decided to go home. I’m sorry.”
“I worried about you. Then we forgot you because we got drunk as hell. When you answered, I assumed something happened to make you go home. I didn’t say anything because my speech would slur. You might have gotten mad at me for that condition with him. Right after, Kabani passed out. I left him sleeping on the floor and left. I wish you had called.” Silence was his best defense. “What’s wrong? You look pale. Maybe you should take the day off.”
“I’m tired.”
Good Alise, lull him into quiet security. When Kabani tells him, the impact will be much greater.
“You won’t mind if I take the day off will you? Two friends, Jasmine and Asmir, rented a house in the Catskills for the season and I’m going with them for the weekend. I may stay until Tuesday. Since Kabani won’t be here you don’t need me on Monday.” He had yet to answer when she leaped to her feet and kissed him again on the cheek. “Thanks, you’re a doll. Bye. See you next week. I’ll call tonight or tomorrow and give you the number. Maybe I can persuade my friends to let us use the secluded house to have a super orgy with nature. Won’t you love that?” Her eyes smiled, teasing with hate behind them.
“Do I have a choice about your taking off?”
“I deserve a vacation don’t you think after Kabani night and day? Besides, I need to get away with my friends. It should be fun.”
“You deserve a vacation. I’ll miss you.”
“Good. When I return you can show me how much you missed me. Oh, damn…”
“What’s the matter?”
“Be a sweetheart and lend me a few dollars until next week. I need to pay my share of the weekend and have extra. My friends are meeting me downstairs and have no time to get to the bank.”
“How much do you need?”
“I don’t know. Two-fifty. Three hundred?”
He extracted his wallet. “Here’s three hundred.”
“Fine. I’ll pay you back as soon as.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Bye, Ali. I’ll call you.” She left.
Alise wasn’t going anywhere with Jasmine and Asmir, although they did rent a house in the Catskills for two months on free weekends. She wanted the three hundred dollars, spite money. When giving her money, he never expected repayment. She wanted the dollars as another down payment for abandoning her last night.
She planned to stay home this weekend and go with Laura and me to Jasmine and Asmir’s UN party. She needed Monday and Tuesday off to be out of the office on Monday when Ali heard the good news from Kabani.
Alise had her excuse for avoiding the office. After cashing her check, she returned home to plan on how to grab her future by the horns.
That evening Alise sat and totaled her assets exempting her paycheck: three hundred dollars from Ali today, six hundred dollars from Kabani, five hundred dollars from Ali for the abortion, now profit.
She had eight thousand and seventy-two dollars in a money market account, sixteen hundred dollars in a checking account, about fourteen thousand dollars in jewelry, fifty thousand dollars in a bank in Syria, and no major expenses other than the rent; twelve hundred a month. She could save a majority portion of future paychecks by cutting back on expensive clothes.
Baby clothes, crib, and miscellaneous should be about two thousand. Maybe she could do part-time modeling or a second job in the evenings as a waiter or perform the art of belly dancing in nightclubs and socials. Alternatives were available. She was a survivor. She had forgotten.
Impressed with her modest assets, far from poverty, she felt secure providing excitement and a decent night’s sleep.
Alise ‘buried’ Ali, emotionally gone from her life, surprised at the sudden change. Further surprising, how she could hate him as deep as she once loved.
On Saturday, Alise decided to get out and do for herself, spending the day at the Cloisters. In the evening, escorted by Laura and me, she attended the Achilles Heart-UN party. Alise looked good as when I first met her. She acte
d happy and normal, a delight to be with.
Sunday, Alise bought The New York Times, New York Daily News and magazines on babies and maternity styles, a day for reading and entering the world of maternity, making a note to call a gynecologist within days. Pregnancy and baby soared in her senses – an exciting high.
If a penis had value, this was it.
Monday, D-Day. Kabani’s assault on Ali’s senses should take place about noon. At noon as she watched the atomic clock in her kitchen, Alise felt her victory – elation.
Alise considered herself non-vindictive but cherished the capability.
Ali knew she was out of town. At two o’clock, without the answering machine, the phone rang ten times, and every hour on the hour until eleven at night. Before four, she lowered the ring level – each ring to torment Ali, each ring a pleasure to Alise.
He must be crazed. Out of his mind.
Tuesday. The phone rang at seven in the morning, waking her then again at eight. Ten. Twelve. Two. Four – all ten rings.
The phone should ring again at five.
She should be back from her false itinerary and decided to answer the next call.
The phone rang at five. She let it ring eight times to extend the torture. “Hello,” she answered with a cheery voice.
“How could you do this to me?”
“Do what?”
“You know damn well what.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“How could you tell Kabani about us? You ruined me with him, ruined me. All he did was preach to me. Never shit where you eat. He was outraged at your pro-Israeli remarks. Outraged!”
“Do you know what he stands for? Do you want war?”
“I’m his ambassador and helping to set up his policies. How do you think he felt when someone who works for me speaks treason?”
“Treason?”
“Then you slept with him. And had the audacity to charge him six hundred dollars. Are you crazy?”
“You told him I was a prostitute and I don’t give free samples. That doesn’t upset you does it?” She made the sarcastic seem innocent. “I never thought that warmongering bastard would tell you. Isn’t that what you wanted me to do? Get friendly with him to benefit your career? I sacrificed for you. Your perspective is all wrong.”
