Sold To The Sheikh Bidder
“I was looking for a place to set up a lunch with a new client and settled on this restaurant. The meeting went so well, I guess I just started to associate a good feeling with it. And then I started coming in on my own and got to know the owner.
“It’s one of the few places in Al Asaab where I can eat by myself and feel comfortable. Or where I can bring friends or clients alike.
“Plus,” Hakim leaned toward Lauren and said in a stage whisper, “the food is outstanding. Some of the best I’ve ever had.”
Hakim grinned at the silver-haired man who had just walked up next to the banquette. The man just shook his head.
“I would say that if you really liked my food, you’d be here more often. I suppose, though, that it’s enough that you brought this lovely lady to dine with you this time.”
Hakim stood and embraced the man. “Lauren, this is Adir Assan, the owner and head chef of this fine establishment. Adir, this is Lauren Sanders, a friend of mine from California.”
Adir shook Lauren’s hand. “Ms. Sanders, we’re delighted you could join us.”
Lauren shook her head. “Thank you for staying open for us tonight. I know it’s late here, though to be honest, I have no idea what time it actually is. Your restaurant is beautiful and I’m looking forward to trying the food.”
Adir gave her a small bow. “Then leave everything to me.”
Hakim shook his hand and Adir returned to his kitchen. He noticed Lauren watching him and said, “Adir is a good friend.”
“I can see. It’s interesting to see this whole different side of you here.”
Hakim waited as a server brought out a first course and poured the wine. When they were alone again, he asked, “Why is this a different side of me?”
“You’re more open, even when we’ve only been here a short time.”
Hakim shrugged. “It’s home.”
“Mm. I get that. But just because California isn’t home, why are you so different there? I mean, you “bought” me from an auction to spite my mother. That’s not the man I see here.”
“I have to be different here. It’s business.”
“But why do you dislike my mom so much? Surely the two of you could be competitors without being enemies.”
“Lauren, I don’t want to upset you.”
She laughed. “You’ve already upset me. So, explain—make me understand.”
“Your mother doesn’t like me.”
“That, I know. And I’ve asked her about it. For the record, I think her reasons are not the best. But I’m asking about you.”
Hakim took a deep breath. “Did you she tell you about the Peterson account?”
Lauren thought about it. “It rings a bell, yes.”
“We got our bid in a day late, technically. It was delivered but somehow got lost at the reception desk. I found out later that Patricia had told the receptionist that I was dating a nineteen-year-old actress and encouraged her to “lose” our bid so that her company wouldn’t be embarrassed.”
Hakim could see the color drain out of Lauren’s face.
“She didn’t,” Lauren said, sounding like she didn’t believe him.
He nodded. “She did. And I wasn’t dating a nineteen-year-old. She was a twenty-six-year-old, playing a nineteen-year-old. And it’s not the only time she’s spread rumors about me, or used some underhanded trick to gain some advantage.
Lauren shook her head. “I know my mother is tough, but that doesn’t sound like her.”
“She is a brilliant businesswoman; she doesn’t even need all those tricks. But I think she’s so afraid of losing her position as the most successful that’s she lost sight of what’s right.”
“You don’t understand,” Lauren countered, instinctively rushing to defend her mother. “She had to fight for everything, even being CEO of her own company. When they went public, the board wanted to replace her with a man because CEOs were men and a woman couldn’t run a company. Despite the fact that she built it from the ground up.”
“Lauren, she lied about me.”
“And I’m not saying that’s right, but she was only trying to save her company. To save her job. I know you understand that. And I know that while she’s incredibly tough at business, she always has my best interests at heart.”
Hakim didn’t want to argue, and he understood why Lauren was reluctant to hear these things about her mother. So, as they finished their entrees and the waiter brought the main course, he decided to change the subject.
“It’s okay. I know you’re not your mother, and through you, I see that she’s not a bad person. I wish she could see that about me. But most of all, I want you to enjoy this weekend.”