My mouth went dry at the thought of it. I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. I wasn’t sure if he could, either.
If I didn’t have Sam, could this be an offer I would accept? It was crazy, right? Like something out of a Disney movie. But, then again, this whole weekend had been cut straight from the reel of a rags-to-riches fantasy. And, so far, nothing had turned back into a pumpkin.
“And what would I do with my time?” I asked. “With no job, I think I’d get bored pretty quickly.”
Jalaal spun me in a boisterous circle. I landed back against his chest, splaying my hand out over his hard pec. We giggled at that. We were both a little drunk.
“Whatever you wanted to do,” he reasoned. “Shop. Swim. Volunteer. When you’re a beautiful pearl, the world is your oyster.”
“So cheesy!” I chastised. “Do lines like that actually work?”
Jalaal fixed me with a cheeky grin. “I don’t know,” he purred. “Let me check.”
He lowered his lips to mine and I was lost. My legs quivered beneath me, and I sent more of my weight forward into Jalaal’s chest. He held me, swaying to the slow, silken beat. Our lips meshed together, moving in perfect harmony. I sighed into his mouth, so content with my life in this alternate reality.
I just wished there was room for Jalaal in my real life. I wished I didn’t have to give him up tomorrow. But I did.
My real life wasn’t glamorous parties and swoon-worthy kisses. It was laundry, bodily fluids, and bedtime stories. I tried not to think about it—not to let the realization that it couldn’t last influence my enjoyment of the here and now.
That was the attitude I channeled when Jalaal asked if I wanted to go to an after-after-party at one of the more exclusive, high-roller casinos. Even though I felt like a fish out of water among the filthy rich party denizens, I knew I would have fun. I had fun everywhere I went with Jalaal.
The first big win of the night was at the craps table. After buying in, Jalaal handed me a blue chip.
“What’s this?” I asked.
He grinned. “Hang on to it.”
“Why?” I stared at him, puzzled.
“You’re my good luck charm,” he explained. “Call me superstitious if you’d like, but I think I’ll be luckier if you hold my chip.”
I shrugged and tucked it into my bra. Jalaal watched with hungry eyes.
“What?” I said, grinning. “This dress doesn’t have pockets.”
He laughed and slung an arm around my waist, pulling me tightly against him as he rolled the dice.
It didn’t surprise me at all that he won big.
But nobody in that casino—not even the casino itself—won bigger than me that night, because I got to go home with Jalaal Afsal and make love to him on a bed of ebony silk, thousands of feet in the air.
NINE
The gravity of my situation hit me like a falling brick come Sunday morning.
After the second-best sleep of my life—rivalled only by our first night together—I woke up in Jalaal’s powerful arms. The sun played with the lines of his face, casting shadows over his cheeks that made him look like a painting. I watched him sleep a little longer, unsure how to broach the topic of my departure.
I had a flight that afternoon. I would have to leave sometime in the next hour. It was a surprise my phone wasn’t ringing off the hook already, my friends calling to see where I was. I wouldn’t have blamed them.
But what if I told Jalaal I was leaving and he asked me to stay? I would have to tell him I couldn’t—and I would have to tell him why. I didn’t have an excuse for why we couldn’t see each other again. Nor would I be able to think of one. But I couldn’t give him my phone number either. I would need to tell him about Sam if I did, and I didn’t want to ruin this perfect weekend with the foul taste of rejection on my tongue.
I was in a pickle. I’d put off telling him for too long, and now there was no going back.
Jalaal groaned and turned onto his side, folding me underneath him.
“Hey!” I squawked in protest. “You’re squishing me.”