Behind the Curtain

by BETH KERY

  “Laila, hurry up. Mamma has to use the bathroom!”

  She jumped guiltily at the sound of her mother’s loud voice just feet away on the other side of the closed door.

  How could I have ever liked staying in this tiny little house? I feel like I’m being smothered.

  “Just a second, Mamma,” she yelled, unable to keep the irritation out of her voice. She immediately felt doubly guilty about it, because Mamma Sophia, her grandmother, whom she adored, was probably standing next to her mom in the hall and had heard her rude tone.

  She hurriedly finished washing, feeling flustered and strained and guilty, her nerves still prickly from unfulfilled arousal.

  • • •

  That night, they sat out on her uncle Reda’s and aunt Nadine’s large terrace for a delicious dinner that stretched all the way through a brilliant sunset over Lake Michigan into a star-filled night. The bungalows they rented had fire pits installed on the decks, and Laila’s father and Reda got a blaze going. Her mom and aunties had outdone themselves, as usual. In honor of Zarif’s presence, they served Zarif’s favorites: a chicken tagine, sweet onions, almond and honey raghaif, and fruit. Despite her recent prickly mood, Laila found herself enjoying the excellent food and the happy, fire-lit faces of her family. She thought her father, uncles and cousins all looked very relaxed and handsome with their deepening tans following their fishing trip. Even Mamma Sophia had felt well enough to attend. Her thin face looked alight as she talked with her eldest grandson. During tea and dessert, Tahi, who sat next to her, whispered in Laila’s ear.

  “Since it’s so hot, we’re moving over to Nadine and Reda’s sleeping porch tonight.”

  “Really?” Laila whispered, relief sweeping through her. While they vacationed in Crescent Bay, they always rented the same three cottages on the beach. Zara’s family usually got the largest one, because they had the most children. That cottage possessed a screened-in porch that faced the lake. Traditionally, the three girls—Laila, Zara and Tahi—slept there on hot nights. Laila welcomed the idea tonight. In Crescent Bay, she had to share a room with Mamma Sophia. Normally, this was no problem for her. She loved her grandmother. They shared a special bond. Mamma Sophia had once possessed a lovely singing voice, and she’d taught Laila every Moroccan and traditional Arab song she knew. Until arthritis had crippled her fingers and her heart had grown weak, Mamma Sophia used to play the piano regularly. She’d been Laila’s first and best piano teacher.

  Her grandmother also used to read to her frequently when she was a little girl. Laila credited Sophia largely with her love of words and music. Now that Mamma Sophia was older, and her eyesight and her arthritis had grown worse, leaving her bedridden much of the time, their roles had been switched. Laila now often read to her, or merely visited with her while they sipped tea and Mamma Sophia lay propped up in bed.

  So she felt a little guilty at not wanting to share a room with her grandmother tonight. But she found the idea of sleeping in the open air of the porch especially appealing, given her recent bouts of restlessness and claustrophobia.

  Of horniness, a snide voice in her head added.

  But that didn’t change the fact that if she couldn’t be alone, being with her cousins on the large sleeping porch in the open air was the next best thing.

  • • •

  At around one o’clock in the morning, Laila, Zara and Tahi were still awake. The three of them formed a triangle on the floor of the sleeping porch, each of them lying on top of an air mattress and a sleeping bag. It was a warm, humid summer night. Thanks to the rows of opened screened-in windows, the cool lake breeze, her brief sleepwear and a humming fan, Laila was comfortable, however. The interior of Zara’s family’s bungalow had been silent and dark for hours now. Thanks to years of experience, the girls knew that the distant sound of waves hitting the beach and the fan easily muffled their quiet conversations from the sleeping household.

  “He told me I should come to visit him in New York this fall,” Zara said, referring to Eric.

  “Is that where he lives?” Laila asked.

  Zara nodded. “He works in Manhattan. He’s the East Coast manager of marketing—or something like that—for Gaites-Granville Media. I know it’s something in marketing, and he’s the head of it. That’s just another thing Eric and I have in common: marketing.”

  “You mean he’s taken two classes in it at the local junior college too?”

  “Shut up, Tahi. You’re just jealous. You know Eric got his degree in marketing from Harvard last year. He lives in Great Neck Estates, where all these really rich people live,” Zara said, focusing solely on Laila.

  “So he works for his daddy and lives with him too,” Tahi said drolly. “Do you really think all those stuck-up, rich WASPs are going to welcome you with open arms?”

  “You live with your daddy,” Zara shot back, her eyes gleaming in the darkness.

  “So do you,” Tahi reminded her.

  “Cut it out, you two,” Laila said wearily in her frequent role of peacekeeper between her cousins.

  “It’s not the same thing at all. Their house in Great Neck is a huge mansion, even bigger than Asher’s parents’ house on the beach,” Zara said, once again speaking solely to Laila. Laila couldn’t help but notice that her cousin had avoided responding to Tahi’s cynical comment about Eric’s family welcoming her with open arms. Knowing Zara, her cousin was having uncertainties about that issue too, and was willfully repressing her concerns. Zara always did have the ability to focus solely on a good time. “He has a whole wing of the house to himself, and his own entrance and everything. Can you believe it? I’ve never even met a millionaire before. Now I’m dating one. And you are too, Laila.”

  “Asher and I aren’t dating,” Laila assured her. “And Asher isn’t a millionaire. His parents are wealthy, that’s all.”

  “Same difference. Who do you think is going to inherit all that money? Asher is an only son, and Eric only has an older sister to split things with. Tahi, you should blow off that Rudy and focus on Jim. Eric said Jim’s family is loaded,” Zara said.

  Tahi rolled her eyes and scooted closer to Laila. “You met with Asher today. There has to be something to tell. Jim said that Asher is really interested in you.”

  “He did?” Laila asked, her skin roughening.

  “Yeah. So did Rudy. You’ve been dodging our questions all night. Zara’s told us practically everything, including the direction Eric swirls his tongue when he kisses.” Zara made a disgusted sound and slapped Tahi’s shoulder. Tahi rubbed the spot on her skin and ignored her. “Come on, spill it. Tell us what happened when you met with Asher.”

  “We just went to a beach close to the white house and swam.” Laila sidestepped the question. “We talked. He’s really smart. He’s starting work at the L.A. Times later this summer as an international reporter.”

  “He’s so gorgeous,” Tahi said fervently.

  Zara frowned. “Eric told me that Asher was going to work for GGM in Chicago.”

  Laila’s heart jumped into her throat. “Oh . . . I shouldn’t have said that about the L.A. Times. Don’t say anything to Eric. Asher hasn’t mentioned it to his parents yet. Please, Zara? I mean it.”

  Zara shrugged. “No problem, it’s no sweat off my back.” Laila exhaled in relief. She’d almost blown things for Asher. He’d want to be the one to break the news about his job to his parents, not have them hear it from Eric or by a rumor. “But why does he want a job as a reporter? He can’t make very much money doing that compared to the kind of job he’d get at GGM, can he? Unless the L.A. Times is one of GGM’s newspapers?”

  “I don’t think so,” Laila said, thinking. “I don’t think Asher wants to work for the family business.”

  “That seems kind of stupid. I’d—” Zara stopped speaking abruptly at the sound of movement just outside the porch. A slow smile curved her full lips.<
br />
  “They’re here,” she whispered, her eyes shining in the darkness.

  “Who’s here?” Tahi hissed when Zara rolled over to the floor on all fours.

  “The guys. They went to a club over in Crescent Bay tonight. Eric said they’d stop by afterward.”

  “But . . . how did they know you’d be out here on the porch?” Laila asked disbelievingly, watching in amazement as Zara stood and smoothed her long, tumbling hair, all the while peering out the windows into the darkness. Someone scratched a fingernail softly against one of the screens. Excited anxiety shivered down Laila’s spine at the furtive sound.

  “Because I told them,” Zara whispered. “I told him we’d all be out here. That’s the reason I asked Baba if we could sleep on the porch tonight, dummies.” Zara leapt gazelle-like over Laila’s reclining form and rushed over to the screen door. Laila made out several tall male shadows in the moonlight. She and Tahi shared a look of openmouthed shock. Zara was by far the most daring of them all, but she’d never been quite this audacious before.

  “She’s lost her mind,” Laila whispered.

  “I was wondering why she wore makeup and her jewelry to bed,” Tahi muttered, before she too leapt up from her sleeping bag.

  “Tahi,” Laila hissed, but apparently Zara’s madness was catching. She watched, frozen, as Tahi slipped out the screen door after Zara, her pale T-shirt gleaming in the moonlight. She heard the very muffled sound of a male voice over the sound of the waves on the distant beach.

  Was Asher out there?

  Her heartbeat started to hammer in her ears in the strained silence. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there in stunned amazement and mounting excitement, but suddenly, the screen door opened silently. Tahi came to kneel beside her. She whispered near her ear.

  “Asher is up on the dune road. He refuses to come down to the beach.”

  “Why?”

  “Eric said he wanted to drive Rudy’s car after they left the club, and he brought them all here without telling them where they were going. Asher is furious. Rudy says he might calm down if you go up and talk to him.”

  “But why is—”

  “We’re all going to take a walk down the beach. The moonlight is really bright. You should just run up the dune and talk to Asher.”

  “Tahi, we can’t. Ami Reda and Nadine are going to find out we’re gone.”

  “Are you kidding? We’ll be even quieter gone than we were while we were talking all night, and they never hear that. You’re not going to leave Asher up there all alone, are you?”

  Her cousin stood silently. Her lungs frozen, Laila watched Tahi silently slip out the screen door.

  Chapter Eight

  A few minutes later, she jogged up the dune, the sand feeling cool beneath her bare feet. Her heart chugged like an out-of-control locomotive in her chest. She wore only her sleeping attire: a pair of thin cotton shorts and a tank top.

  She’d never done anything like this before. Sure, she, Zara and Tahi had come up with some pretty elaborate stories in order to sneak off to parties, or on a few memorable occasions, to attend concerts at the Palace in Auburn Hills to see performances by some of Laila’s favorite music idols.

  But she’d never snuck out of the house in the middle of the night to meet up with a guy. Laila couldn’t imagine doing it for anyone other than him.

  Why hadn’t he come down with the other guys?

  She squinted above her and made out the top of the dune against the moonlit sky. The road was just several yards past it.

  Asher is up there, somewhere.

  Just thinking his name called to mind his gleaming light eyes, the intense expression on his handsome face, his hands coasting across her bare skin, his tall, strong body . . .

  A stitch pierced her side, the result of her nervousness and erratic breathing. Tahi had said Asher was furious and didn’t want to come down to the cottage, like the other guys had. But why was he mad, precisely? Did he not want to come with the others because he’d decided he didn’t want to see her, and was irritated that Eric had stopped here?

  The thought made her feet falter as she crested the top of the dune. Damn. Why hadn’t she thought of that possibility before she ran like a crazy woman through the night?

  Because I would have done much more for the possibility of seeing his face again, she realized with a sinking feeling.

  • • •

  Fuck this.

  Asher checked his watch impatiently. They’d been down there for over ten minutes. Eric had taken the keys to Rudy’s rental car with him and left Asher stranded.

  He couldn’t believe the balls of Eric, or that Rudy and Jimmy had gone along with his dumb-ass scheme. It had been Eric who had masterminded the whole thing . . . him and Zara, Laila’s cousin. Not that Asher was excusing Rudy and Jimmy for going along with the whole thing.

  Didn’t Eric get how much trouble Laila and her cousins could get in, if they were caught? No. All that selfish jerk cared about was his dick.

  All you’re worried about is that Eric will ruin your chances of seeing Laila in the future. So Eric took it a step further than you would have tonight. You were all too willing to cross the line this afternoon, a sarcastic voice in his head said.

  But that’d been different. When it was just Laila and him, everything was different.

  Just thinking her name made him grit his teeth furiously. What was she thinking, right this minute? He cursed under his breath and pushed himself off the parked car door, where he’d been leaning. He lunged into the road.

  Fuck Eric. He’d walk home. And pray his idiot friends didn’t get caught so that there was a chance he’d see Laila tomorrow or the next day—

  “Asher.”

  The hairs rose on his arms at the breathy call. He turned and saw Laila walking toward him. She appeared luminous in the moonlight. Her long hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. His gaze lowered. Jesus. She was hardly wearing anything.

  She approached him, her bare feet looking pale and somehow vulnerable on the blacktop of the road.

  “You’re not wearing any shoes,” he said stupidly. It wasn’t all she wasn’t wearing, he thought, jerking his gaze off the vision of her breasts pressed against very thin, nearly translucent fabric. In the bright moonlight, he could easily make out her small, erect nipples.

  “I know. I wasn’t wearing any when your friends arrived,” she said, an uncertain smile on her lips as she approached him.

  He frowned. “They didn’t . . . they didn’t see you, did they?” For some reason, he hated the idea of Eric or his friends seeing her so vulnerable. So beautiful.

  “What?” she asked shakily, coming to a stop in front of him. She glanced down at herself and crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously. “No, I don’t think so. They were all walking on the beach already.”

  He barely stifled a curse. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, realizing how idiotic he’d sounded. She was wearing more now than she would at a beach in a bikini. It was just that . . . he was even more aware of her than he had been at the beach this afternoon. She’d looked like something out of a dream, walking toward him with her dark hair spilling around her shoulders and the moonlight making her smooth limbs gleam . . .

  He shook his head when he realized she was staring at him worriedly.

  “I’m sorry about all this. It wasn’t my idea,” he assured her, waving a hand toward the beach in the distance.

  “I know. Tahi told me that you didn’t want to come down. And that you were mad,” she said softly.

  “I didn’t want Eric to get you in trouble,” he bit out, fury building like steam in his blood all over again. “He’s not my friend, by the way.” He noticed her confusion. “You called him my friend earlier. He’s not. He’s a distant relative, and I’d be blessed if I never had to see his smug-ass, pretty
boy face ever again.”

  She looked a little blank with shock, and he realized how blisteringly pissed he’d sounded. He opened his mouth to apologize, but suddenly, she laughed softly. He stilled at the vision of her small white teeth.

  “He really is. Pretty, isn’t he?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve joined his fan club,” he said, glancing at her darkly from beneath a lowered brow.

  She put up her hands in a surrender gesture, barely hiding a grin. “I’m hardly a fan. Zara, on the other hand, is ready to fall down and worship him.” All traces of a smile faded. She crossed her arms over her breasts again. Her nipples were very stiff. “It’s kind of worrisome, actually. Tahi and I have been trying to warn her to take it easy, but you don’t know Zara.” He blinked and forced his attention back on what she was saying. “Zara falls in love regularly, but I’ve never seen her get this worked up over a guy so fast.”

  Their gazes held for a few seconds. Suddenly, she ducked her head. His muscles tightened in restraint. He wanted to hold her.

  Badly.

  “Do you think your parents are going to find out you’re out of the house?”

  “We weren’t sleeping at our cottage. We were at Zara’s parents’ place. Not that it matters. If they figure out we’re gone, my parents will hear about it, eventually. But they usually never hear us, and we’ve been known to talk all night.”

  He stared out at a moonlit Lake Michigan and shifted on his feet.

  “Asher?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  He focused on her face. “Yeah,” he said after a pause.

  He saw her swallow. “It’s not, though. Is it?” she asked so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her voice above the distant surf. “Have you changed your mind about what you said this afternoon? Would you rather not see me again, after everything I told you?”

  “What? No.”

  “I’m not easy.” She seemed to hear what she’d said and laughed self-consciously. “I mean, I know it’s complicated. I’m complicated. We would be.”