“Oh?” He lifted a brow. “Shahaar is one of my favorite places. I wish you had let me know. I could have taken you.”
She swallowed a bitter laugh. “Well, that would hardly be appropriate for a working relationship, Zahir. I see you at the office, and that’s it.”
He tutted, an uncomfortable pause emerging. “Right. Well, I actually wanted to mention something that takes you out of the office.”
Anxiety slithered through her. She had no energy left to confront this man. “What’s that?”
“There’s a dinner tonight.” He slid his hands into his pockets, looking rather pleased with himself. “Business dinner, rather. Strategy, check-ins, that sort of thing. Omar and Marian should be there, now that they’re back from their eternal honeymoon.”
Layla grinned but squashed it immediately. “Is it required?”
“Well, no…” Zahir’s gaze fell to the floor. “But it would be beneficial for you to attend. A good way to touch base with colleagues. Plus, the food is great.”
Work dinner wouldn’t be so bad. And with Marian there, she’d have reinforcements if needed. There was no good reason to say no—other than the fact that looking at Zahir’s face made her insides hurt. “Sure. Just let me know when and where.”
“Great.” Zahir smiled again, his gaze lingering on her face. The same warmth passed between them that had ensnared her the moment they started talking at Echo.
She forced a tight smile, ripping her gaze from his impeccably handsome jawline. “Okay then. See you later.”
Layla gritted her teeth as Zahir took the hint and excused himself, whooshing out a deep breath once her door clicked shut. This was hell. No, actually it was worse than hell.
Not only was she pregnant
out of wedlock in the most traditional country she’d ever set foot in, the pregnancy brought up all sorts of questions she wasn’t ready to face. Did she even want it? Now that she was pregnant, having the baby seemed the only way. Considering the alternative just didn’t sit right with her. But doing this on her own? It would be one thing if she’d been in a committed relationship and they had an accident. But even that was unlikely. Layla didn’t let herself get into committed relationships. She liked to be the fun time, a fleeting comet of perfect conversation and amazing sex that never once fizzled into flagging attraction or awkward disappointments.
It was much easier that way.
Because that way, she never had to confront anything unsavory. No heartbreak, no letdowns, nothing other than strictly what she wanted. Why be in a relationship when she could be free? It had been her motto since finding out the hard way that getting rejected hurt big-time, and there was no way to prevent the other person from just deciding one day he no longer loved her.
It had happened right after college, when her boyfriend of six years just abandoned their apartment one day and never returned. She’d found out later he’d skipped town to go marry someone he’d met on a free dating service, a relationship that had fermented quietly right under her nose for at least a year. She’d thought she’d get the happily ever after, but instead she’d gotten burned.
No one else would get the chance to hurt her again. And if anything, throwing a baby into the mix only widened the doorway of vulnerability. If she told Zahir, he could shut them out or worse, make her a prisoner to his demands. No, it was better to handle this on her own. She’d be a single mother. Women did it every day, all around the world.
Once she banked a few more paychecks, she’d figure out where to deliver, and how to get out of her contract. Step by step. Things would come together.
She took a shaky breath, struggling to feel a sense of calm about it all, until a hiccup emerged and gut-wrenching sobs wracked her body.
10
Zahir twirled the stem of his wine glass back and forth under his fingers, allowing himself just one more glance at Layla. He knew he’d been staring at her throughout dinner, but it was impossible to look away. She’d shown up to work distant and distracted, which made him even more desperate to catch her eye and know that she was okay. Layla had a strange way of wearing her emotions on her sleeve. Or maybe he was simply the only one who could see them.
“I’d say we’ve done a fine job of mixing cultures and blending practices,” Imaad spoke up, breaking through Zahir’s thoughts. Imaad raised his wine glass, the rest of the table following suit. The group, which included all levels of executives, had been discussing overall business strategies, along with the benefits and challenges of the merger. Zahir was quick to point out Layla’s contributions when he could, though he swore she shrank a little each time he did.
The table dissolved into individual conversations, and Zahir took another sip of his wine as Layla stood, gesturing discreetly to Marian. The two hurried away, leaving Layla’s spot empty directly in front of him. Omar leaned toward him, gripping the back of his chair.
“Okay. Let me be plain.” He cleared his throat, his dark eyes darting over Zahir’s face. “Do you have a thing for your new hire?”
Zahir blinked a few times, struggling to find words. Was it so obvious?
“Or maybe you’re already sleeping together.” Omar lifted a brow.
“What are you talking about?” Zahir finally found his voice, and it came out more defensive than he liked.
“I know you. You have one thing written on your face.”
Zahir tugged at the collar of his shirt. There was something unnerving about being called out, even if it was by his brother. He’d thought this attraction was far more under wraps. “And what’s that?”
“You’re looking to fuck.”