Rosie felt in her pocket for her phone. “I can call it. I’ve got it—”
But Hakan just waved his hand again, causing her to halt. “Seriously, I can get my aides to take care of it.” He laughed at her expression, at the panic she exhibited. “Really, it’s not going to be a problem. I’m sure my aides will thank you for just giving them something to fill their time.”
“Your aides?”
“They’re back at the hotel,” he said, gesturing. “I was on my way back there. The Edgewater. Do you know it?”
Rosie’s eyes widened. “Of course I know it,” she murmured.
The Edgewater was one of the most upscale hotels in all of Seattle. She’d entered it a few times back when she’d worked for a catering business as a college student, and she’d learned, once and for all, what luxury really meant.
Hakan began to rub his hands over his pockets, searching for something, distracted. He frowned before snapping his fingers and leaning down into his car, his fingers tentative over the shards of glass.
“Be careful!” Rosie said quickly.
But Hakan came back with several pieces of his iPhone, grinning. “It wasn’t enough just to destroy my car, was it?”
Rosie looked horrified before realizing Hakan was joking once more. “You can use mine!” She gestured, handing him the phone she could hardly pay for. She was willing, in that moment, to give him her arm, if it meant her guilt would go away.
“Don’t be silly. You know where the Edgewater is, right?”
She nodded, her eyes bright.
“And I don’t know where it is. And I don’t have my phone to call anyone to come get me…”
Rosie frowned, unsure. “Do you, um. Need me to take you to there?” Her heart had quickened at the thought.
Hakan snapped his fingers, his eyebrows high. “Exactly. Knew you’d get there eventually.”
Rosie found herself grinning, so unsure about the man before her. Why didn’t he seem angry? Why was he willing to just leave his million-dollar Lamborghini there, on the side of the road, without a care?
She swallowed, realizing that it could have been a lot worse. She could have had a serious lawsuit on her hands.
“Well, let’s get going, then!” she said, clapping her hands softly.
Rosie felt like an idiot, but noticed that Hakan’s eyes shone with laughter as he turned and followed her down the street. She felt his gaze on her back, and she shivered, bringing her shoulders up higher. She didn’t want to seem too tired. She picked her feet up higher, beginning to relax; she wasn’t dead, and neither was he.
After a moment, Hakan joined her in stride, and she gave him a side-glance, wondering what to ask a man who seemed so important that he hadn’t batted an eyelash after the wreck. “So, what brings you to Seattle?” she asked him.
“Business, actually,” he said brightly. “Seattle never gets old for me. Not as chaotic as New York—where, for your information, I’ve actually never had a car accident.”
Rosie bowed her head slightly, knowing he was being playful. Was he flirting with her? She hadn’t been flirted with in so long, she wasn’t sure she’d recognize it.
“Yeah, I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I’ve lived here about ten years now, which seems insane. Time really flies.”
“It does indeed. What do you do here?” he asked.
Rosie was taken aback by the question, blinking wildly. She was unaccustomed to answering questions about herself. “I’m a nurse, actually,” she said. “Obstetric nurse.”
“What’s that like?”
Again with the questions. His fingers were so close to hers as they walked, she was frightened they would brush against each other.
“Stressful,” she sighed. “I just finished a shift a few minutes ago. This woman grabbed my hand for hours during labor, and I was sure she would break my bones. You really don’t know your strength until you become a mother.”
Hakan laughed appreciatively. “But the baby was born healthy, and all that?”
“And all that,” Rosie said, smiling. Perhaps it was her turn to be playful. “A beautiful, healthy girl. It never gets old, that moment.”
“I can imagine.”
They were quiet for a moment, walking along the sidewalk. When people passed them, Hakan paused, allowing Rosie to go ahead. He would catch up with long strides immediately afterwards, demonstrating a level of manners that Rosie hadn’t viewed in any man since her father.
As she compared him to her father, Rosie realized she’d grown quiet. She cleared her throat, hoping to break up the awkwardness. The Edgewater Hotel wasn’t so far away, and yet, she was worried that he’d find her boring before they even caught sight of it.
“And what do you do? You said you were in Seattle on business?”
Nice one, Rosie, she thought. Ask him about his job. That’s really exciting.
“Yeah,” Hakan said. “I work in the media.”
“The media,” Rosie murmured, toying with the cryptic nature of the word. What did that mean, exactly? Was he a journalist? Was he on television? Of course he is, look at him, she thought, with that deep, syrupy voice, and those bright, straight teeth. “Well, that sounds exciting.”
“It can be,” Hakan affirmed, shrugging. He looked around him as they walked toward Pike Place Market, one of the most beautiful and vibrant parts of the city. “I came down here yesterday, by myself,” he said, gesturing around them. “They were throwing the fish at the market. One flew up and smacked an older lady in the face and she didn’t bat an eyelid. I couldn’t believe it. You Seattle folks are really tough, aren’t you?”
Rosie laughed. “I’ve never seen that happen before,” she admitted. “But I hardly come down here anymore. I kind of miss it, actually.” She and her college roommates used to go to Pike Place for lunch, running home in the rain after loading themselves on roasted nuts and fish sandwiches.
“You don’t live nearby?” he asked.
“It’s close, sure. I live in Capitol Hill. It’s just not convenient all the time.”
“Ah, Capitol Hill. The ‘trendy neighborhood,’” he teased, giving her that grin again.
Rosie had begun to feel nervous, trailing her fingers through her hair. Something about this guy was gnawing on her, making her want to run away. She knew that was her social anxiety stirring, her fear that he would run away first. After all, she wanted him to stay, to continue asking her silly questions, to continue teasing her. She had promised her best friend, Amy, that she would be more open to guys. But this gorgeous man—with his Lamborghini and his job in the media, was he really even a prospect?
Rosie shook her head, her red curls wavering across her shoulders. She was probably just tired from the stress of it all, she thought. She knew Hakan would forget about her the moment he stepped into the grandeur of the Edgewater, and she would do the same when she leaped on the bus. She would return to her normal life.
“Here we are,” she said, gesturing toward the hotel which towered into the air, edging up against the gray Seattle clouds.
“Ah, that wasn’t so difficult,” Hakan said, bringing his arms t
o his hips. Rosie couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles quaked beneath his shirt. “Guess it’s time for me to wake the aides up to rescue my Lamborghini.”
Rosie smiled at him, knowing their time together had come to a close. She felt a cut in her lip come open from all the smiling, and the taste of iron slid over her tongue.
She searched for the right words. “Well, again. I’m so sorry about everything. And if I can do anything—” She flubbed her words, thinking about all the money she owed him: more money than she’d seen in her life. The payment plan would stretch on to her grandchildren.
But Hakan waved his hand, turning toward the pillar they stood beside and scribbling with a pen on a small piece of paper.
Rosie frowned, crossing her arms, falling to her social anxiety again. Behind her, Seattle’s traffic was blaring in full-force. Before her, was the water. She was standing between chaos and calm. She was losing her sense of self.
After a moment, Hakan spun back and, suddenly, wrapped his strong arms around her, closing her into an unexpected hug.
Shocked, she unstrung her arms from her chest to wrap them around his body, patting him soundly on the back. She laughed, feeling the giggles bubbling in her stomach.
“It has been a sincere pleasure, Rosie. And thank you for your help today. I would never have found the place without you,” Hakan said, bowing his head to her before spinning back and up the steps, into the hotel.
Rosie watched him, her head tilted, memorizing the way he had smiled at her, at the way his chest had felt against her cheek when he’d hugged her. Outside of work, she hadn’t had physical contact with another person in quite some time, let alone an attractive man. She shivered, feeling the utter surprise of being thanked for wrecking someone else’s car. Did he not remember the circumstances that had led to her helping him? Did he not care?
She slipped her hands down her flat stomach, to her pants, and discovered something sharp and jagged sticking out of her pockets. She glanced down and saw the corner of a thick business card jutting out, as if Hakan had shoved it there, mid-hug.
She turned, taking the object in her fingers and twirling it, awestruck. She felt as if she’d discovered a treasure. She walked toward the water, the breeze tickling her cheeks, as she read the name on the card: Sheikh Hakan Al-Raffayk Bin Zayn.
Sheikh? The name was longer than most sentences. And beneath it were the words “InZayn Media Agency.”
The words gave her pause. She had certainly heard the name of this agency before—what she now learned was a play on Hakan’s last name. She swallowed, realizing that when he’d said he worked in media, that he literally was the media—so much of it, anyway. She read much of his publication and partners’ works on her days off. She watched that news channel, as well. Had she seen him before, one of those lost faces on television?
Regardless, this turn of events explained the Lamborghini—and his nonchalance about wrecking it—much, much better.
Beneath the title of Hakan’s media agency was his phone number, an area code from across the country. And there, beneath the number, was his very own handwriting. There on his business card, he’d scrawled the words “Call me!”
She brought the card to her chest, her heart beating madly. Already, this man represented so many strange things. And, she thought absently, perhaps the strangest one of all was that he was interested in her.