by Carol Grace
“This was your idea to meet here,” he said. “I would have been happy to come to your house. Now what would you like to drink? Some champagne?”
She stiffened. “Please don’t remind me. I’ll have coffee. What do you want to talk about?”
He hesitated while he ran his hand around his beer glass. “I can’t tell my parents the engagement isn’t for real,” he said.
“But you said…”
“I know I did and I tried, but they’re so happy about it, so pleased that I found someone like you…I just couldn’t do it. All I can say is I’ll have to wait a little while until things have cooled down a little. You have your reception at your school this week anyway, don’t you?”
“Yes, if you’re still willing to do it. I guess it won’t hurt to continue a little longer.”
“Of course I’m willing. After what you put up with at the ball, it’s the least I can do.”
“I promise you it won’t last as long as the ball did.”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “I had a good time. I thought you did, too. I hope you weren’t bored,” he said stiffly.
She blushed. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to assure you it would be a simple affair. It will be held in the old mansion of the school with just a few of the teachers there. Nothing special. But you will have to play the role of fiancé. By the way, your mother invited me to tea at the hotel next week.”
“I know. She told me. She always wanted a daughter. I think she thinks she’s got one.”
“Oh, dear. I don’t want to hurt her or your father. What should I do?”
“Go. Go have tea with her. It will make her happy.”
“And when she finds out…?”
He shook his head. “They asked for it. They asked me for a fiancée and I’ve given them one. Who can say that any engagement will last? Of course we all hope for a happy ending. In their case a happy ending means my marriage. In my case…”
“Yes?” she asked. She knew only too well that marriage was not his idea of a happy ending. She wanted to hear him say it, because it was something she had to engrave in her memory in case she started getting fooled into thinking this was all for real. Naturally, marrying a sheik was about as far from reality as she could get. She knew that.
“In my case, marriage is not one of my goals. Maybe one day when I’m older I will do my duty and marry, but not now.”
“Of course. I understand.”
“What about you, Anne, what would your parents say?”
“If they thought I was engaged? They’d be happy, I’m sure. But they live in Arizona and they’re not likely to hear about it, not from me, anyway. So there will be no tears when it’s over.”
She imagined her mother hearing she was engaged to a sheik.
A sheik? You mean one of those Arab sheiks who come riding across the desert and carry you off to their tent, or is it their castle? Does he have a harem and oil wells?
“Who has the red hair in your family, is it your mother?” He reached across the table and twisted an auburn curl around his finger. She licked her lips. Why did he do these things? Why had he kissed her in the car? Why did he look at her that way? There was no one in the bar to impress or to fool into thinking they were really engaged. Then why…why…why…did he lean forward across the table and drink her in as if he was a thirsty man in the desert?
“My hair?” She was having a hard time coming up with an answer. It wasn’t the question, it was him. He rattled her, he disturbed her and he knew it. “No, uh, it’s my grandmother who had red hair. They say I look like her.”
“She must have been beautiful,” he said softly.
“I guess that’s a compliment,” she said.
“If I were to guess, I’d say you haven’t had many.”
“No. When I was small, the kids teased me and called me carrot-top. Then in high school…but I told you about high school. When I had scoliosis, I withdrew from social activities. No one noticed me or my hair. It was kind of a relief.”
“I can’t believe no one noticed you,” he said. “They must have been blind.”
“Rafik, you don’t need to compliment me,” she said. “I’ve already agreed to this arrangement. It suits me as well as it suits you. I take responsibility for my part in the debacle at the wedding. I’m grateful to you for respecting my virtue that night and…and…so…” She didn’t know how to make it any clearer.
“I don’t understand,” he said, leisurely unwrapping her hair from around his finger and leaning back against the bench. “Do you think what I say to you is calculated to win you over? It’s not. I know what you think. That sheiks are all playboys. But we’re not all bad. Give me credit for some sincerity.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean…” Now she was really confused. She’d hurt his feelings without meaning to.
“Surely someone before me has told you how beautiful you are.”
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to brush off his compliments with a laugh or a shrug of her shoulders the way other women did, but she couldn’t. The truth was that she’d never thought of herself as beautiful. She didn’t know if anyone else did either, except some of her young students, none of whom was over six years old. Apparently her silence spoke volumes.
Rafik nodded. “I see,” he said. She was afraid he did see. He saw too much.
“I must be going,” she said, getting to her feet. He put some money on the table and followed her out of the bar, with his hand resting possessively on her shoulder. She held her head high. She had to admit he made her feel attractive, appreciated and yes…even beautiful. Was that because he was skilled in the arts of flattery and pleasing women? Probably. Or was it, as he claimed, sincerity? How much she wanted to believe it was the latter.
He walked her to her car and paused. “Thank you for coming out tonight,” he said. “You’ve made an awkward situation much better for me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
She nodded, told him the time and place of the reception at her school. He told her he’d pick her up, and then he kissed her on the cheek before he opened her door for her.
She told herself there was no reason for her cheeks to burn up on the drive home. It was only a kiss on the cheek. But she was so inexperienced, she had so little defenses against the charm of a sheik. How was she to know what to do, what to say? She didn’t know.
A few days later Carolyn, her newlywed friend, called her. Before Anne could ask about her honeymoon, Carolyn demanded to know if the rumor she had heard about Anne and Rafik was true.
“Sort of, I mean what did you hear exactly?” Anne asked cautiously. This was awful. She couldn’t lie to her good friend. And yet if she told her the truth….
“Tarik said he heard you were engaged to his cousin. I told him it couldn’t possibly be true. You just met him at the wedding, right?”
“Yes, of course, but it’s not what you think,” Anne said.
“Good, because he’s not your type,” Carolyn said.
“I know that, I definitely know that,” Anne said.
“So how did the family get this crazy idea?” Carolyn asked.
“I can explain…I think. You see…Carolyn this is strictly between you and me. You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone, especially anyone in the family.”
“Even Tarik? I don’t know if I can keep a secret from him.”
“But can you trust him?”
“With my life,” Carolyn said.
Anne sighed. How wonderful to be in love with someone you could trust that way. She took a deep breath. “All right, then. Here’s what happened. Rafik needed a fiancée…”
“What for? He distinctly told me he wasn’t interested in getting married.”
“Yes, yes, exactly. That’s why he needs a fiancée, not a real fiancée but just someone to act like one. That’s what I’m doing.”
“But why? Why would you do such a thing?”
“I…I don’t know exactly ex
cept that he’s a very persuasive person and the whole thing happened at the gala ball which you missed. It was a giant misunderstanding between him and his parents. They’re set on his getting married, but, as you know, he has no intention of getting engaged or married. So for some reason when they saw us together at the ball, they assumed I was his fiancée and announced it to everybody.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t get up there and say it wasn’t true. Not when everyone was so happy, congratulating him and me. I was in a state of shock.”
“And Rafik, what state was he in?” Carolyn asked.
“He was shocked, too. He says he’ll explain it to them. Just not right now. Because he actually wants a fiancée, not a real one of course. A false one, someone who will pretend to be a fiancée, to get them off his case, so to speak.”
“So everybody got what they wanted. Or at least they think they did. His parents got a future daughter-in-law whom they approve of, I would suppose. Who wouldn’t approve of you?”
“As a matter of fact, they do. His mother invited me to tea and they both have been truly nice to me.”
“So the parents get you, Rafik gets off the hook, but what about you, what do you get out of it? I won’t stand for Rafik taking advantage of you.”
“No, no, he isn’t. He’s been very good about the whole thing. And he’s doing me a favor, too….” Anne stopped. She didn’t want to go into the false engagement she’d gotten herself into with her headmistress, so she didn’t finish her sentence, hoping Carolyn wouldn’t notice.
“I hope he’s doing you lots of favors,” Carolyn said. “Because I don’t see what you’re getting out of it. What do you want out of it?”
Anne didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to say I want what you have. A husband who loves you and whom you can trust. She didn’t want to sound envious.
“Never mind,” Carolyn said. “You don’t have to tell me. I know you too well. You only want what’s best for everyone else. But what’s going to happen when everyone finds out?”
“That’s what I’m worried about. But Rafik doesn’t seem to be worried. He thinks he can just explain that the engagement was broken off. After all, it happens. It’s happened to him once already, I understand. But I don’t like it. I really don’t. Especially if I have to get to know his parents. I feel like such a fraud.”
“That’s got to be tough,” Carolyn said sympathetically. “Oh, my. I’m overwhelmed. But believe me I won’t tell anybody but Tarik, and I’ll swear him to secrecy. But please, Anne, don’t let yourself be taken advantage of. Because I won’t sit by and let that happen. I know, Rafik is now a part of my family, but you are my friend and I’m responsible for introducing you to him.”
“I won’t, believe me. I can take care of myself,” she assured her friend. After she’d hung up, she paced around her living room, getting more worried by the minute. Wondering if she should have told Carolyn. But it felt so good to confide in someone. And the secret had begun to burn a hole in her psyche. On the other hand, the more people that knew about this charade, the more dangerous it became that the wrong people would find out. She sat down at her desk and looked at her calendar, checking off the obstacles ahead of her. First was tea with his mother. Then the reception at the school which she’d confirmed with the headmistress who had promised to gather together all the teachers and staff who were around during the summer.
After that she could relax and attend a seminar on new methods in teaching reading put on by the state teachers’ association. It was to be held at a rustic lodge on the ocean near Monterey, and there would be no sheiks in attendance, just teaching colleagues from around the state. There would be stimulating, late-night sessions around the fireplace where they would exchange techniques for teaching children from the brightest to the most disadvantaged. There she could relax and be herself, a competent first-grade teacher who enjoyed her work and her life the way it was. No need to pretend anything in front of her fellow teachers. They knew who she was, and best of all, she knew who she was.
Rafik was trying to avoid his parents, afraid of having to enter into an awkward conversation about his “love life,” but since he worked with Massoud in the office, it was difficult not to see him. The good thing was that they had plenty of business affairs to discuss, so avoiding the topic of Anne and his engagement hadn’t been as hard to do as he’d imagined. It was his mother who caught him off guard one day in his office.
He jumped to his feet and kissed her on the cheek. “What a surprise,” he said. “I thought you were busy furnishing your new apartment.”
“I always have time for my sons,” Nura said.
“I’ll get Rahman,” Rafik offered, reaching for his phone. “So we can all get together for a few minutes. Then I’m afraid I have to take off to see one of our clients.” Rahman would be a good distraction. His mother couldn’t possibly bear down on him with him in the room, too.
His mother shook her head. “I’ve just seen your brother. I know you’re busy so I won’t take a moment.”
“Sit down,” he said politely. He didn’t like the determined look on her face. If it had anything to do with his future it could mean trouble.
She took a seat across from his desk and gave him a look that made him uneasy.
“I’m having tea with Anne today,” she said.” Ah, yes, she mentioned it to me. I’m sure she’s looking forward to it.”
“As am I,” she said. “I just want to know if there is anything I shouldn’t mention, such as your former fiancée.”
“I would appreciate your discretion, Mother. There’s no need to bring that up. It’s past history.”
“What about the time you fell off your polo pony and lost the match for your team?” she asked.
“Perhaps you should let me tell that story. We haven’t known each other long enough to delve into each other’s childhoods yet.” But he realized that though they hadn’t known each other very long at all, he already knew about Anne’s scoliosis and the humiliation she had felt wearing a brace. It had helped him understand her shyness, and her unawareness of her charm and looks.
“Another thing, about the engagement….”
Rafik braced himself for the worst. And it came.
“I wondered if you’d set a wedding date yet?”
“Uh…no. Not yet. We both believe in long engagements. Especially considering what happened the last time.”
“I hope your unhappy memories from the past won’t prevent you from seeing the difference between Anne and your previous fiancée. They are as different as night and day, from what I can see.”
“You couldn’t be more right about that. Still we’re in no hurry.”
“You’re over thirty,” she reminded him.
“What about Rahman?” he asked. “He’s over thirty, too.”
She smiled. “I’ve spoken to Rahman.”
“That’s good. He needs to be spoken to.”
Nura opened her mouth to say something else, but fortunately the telephone rang and when he hung up, his mother had left. He breathed a huge sigh of relief.
After his mother left, Rafik picked up the phone and called Anne’s number but no one answered. He wanted to warn her to tell the same story to his mother, that she also believed in long engagements. He thought he could count on her. She most certainly wouldn’t agree to a date no matter what his mother said to her. All the same, he would have liked to speak to her before she walked into tea with his mother. For a shy person like Anne, it could be likened to walking into a lion’s den.
He knew that his mother, who seemed to be as traditional as a wife could be and the type to let her husband make all the decisions, was really quite a power behind the scenes of her marriage and her family. She knew what she wanted and she almost always got it. It had been Nura’s decision to open an office in San Francisco in the hope that the family could all be together there, instead of the boys in New York and she and
their father in the Gulf. She had chosen the new apartment, and now she wanted to choose Rafik’s wife for him. That was what concerned Rafik. She wanted to see him married. Not just married, but to Anne. But he too had a strong will, perhaps inherited from his mother, and he had no intention of letting her win the battle of the marriage. It was his life, after all. He just wished he could be a fly on the wall of the tearoom.
There were no flies on any wall of the St. Francis Hotel’s tearoom. Everything was sumptuous and luxurious from the thick Oriental carpets to the embossed wall-coverings to the white-jacketed waiters to the woman in the long skirt who played the harp.
Anne was glad she’d worn her one and only suit, and her gloves when the doorman held the door for her and she saw the elegant setting on the first floor. It was a suit she saved for presentations made in front of the teachers’ association or on parents’ night at school. She noticed that Rafik’s mother was wearing an elegant blue silk dress and a hat that set off her silver hair.
She tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach. She knew this was not an ordinary tea. She was going to be asked questions, and she might say the wrong thing or be caught contradicting herself or Rafik. So far she liked the woman very much and she understood that the family as a whole liked her. So what was the real problem? That they liked her too much.
Mrs. Harun smiled at her across the room and motioned to her to join her at her small round table.
“What a lovely custom, tea in the afternoon,” Nura Harun said. “How kind of you to join me.”
Anne murmured that it was her pleasure. Rafik’s mother ordered jasmine and Earl Grey tea and sandwiches and cakes. Then she settled back in her chair and surveyed the woman who she surely hoped would be her future daughter-in-law.
“I hope your parents are as happy about your engagement as we are,” she said.
Anne murmured something she hoped sounded positive. Mrs. Harun seemed satisfied.
“I hope you’ll forgive me for asking some questions,” his mother said.
Anne nodded calmly. But inside, her heart was doing flip-flops. What kind of questions? she wanted to ask. But she didn’t. She’d find out soon enough.
