Erick paced the hotel lobby with his cell phone in his ear, watching as
Hollywood
A-listers and global film stars began filing in for the film festival.
Diana Lovemore spoke to him in a slow, calming tone which did nothing to quell his anger.
“I didn’t mean she isn’t coming at all, Mr. Redmund, what I said is that she won’t be coming
today
. She will be arriving late due to overbooking on her flight.”
“That is absolutely outrageous!
I paid to get her here on time!”
“Yes, Mr. Redmund. I understand this is disappointing, but as I’m sure you are aware, there are several people from
Hollywood
on the commercial flights trying to get to
Morocco
right now for the start of the film festival.”
“Yes, I understand that, but Cindy was to be top priority.”
“I apologize, sir.
The airlines assured me when I called her flight will be the first one out in the morning and you will have her there before lunch.”
“I wanted her here now!
I cannot understand how this happened.
She is every bit as important a celebrity as whoever they have on her flight.”
“Yes, Mr. Redmund, I agree, but….”
“I should’ve picked her up myself in the jet.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell me; why her?
Of all the people on that plane, why her?”
“It wasn’t like that, exactly.”
“Then please enlighten me.
How was it/”
“It wasn’t just the airline, sir. The girl…well, she has barely traveled by air before. When I spoke with her she admitted she wasn’t well.
Apparently she made an error on her application.
She had flown only once before.”
Erick’s eyes scanned the lobby and everyone in it, he said, not paying attention to a word Diana was telling him.
Suddenly he made eye contact with the man he was there to meet.
“Uh-huh; look, I’ve got to go, okay? You just keep me posted on it, will you?
I gotta run for now. Call my assistant next time, will you?
Thanks. Bye.”
Before she could reply, he was gone in a click.
Walking quickly toward a quiet elderly man, Erick slipped his phone into his pocket.
“Erick Redmund, How are you? How was your trip to our beautiful country of
Morocco
?”
Bowing slightly, a pleasant smile crossed Erick’s lips at the sight of the reason for his trip.
“Hello Mr. Jibade,” How are you, Sir?
My trip was fantastic and your country is absolutely beautiful.”
Mr. Haji Jibade was an eighth-generation descendant of Moroccan royalty. Erick discovered him through one of his company’s clients who was anxious to invest in films.
After speaking to him primarily by email and telephone, Erick was instantly impressed by his powerfully gentle demeanor.
Directly behind him stood a beautifully attired woman in a long, flowing turquoise-colored silk gown.
Her long black hair was adorned with beads of all shapes and sizes, and twisted into a braid garnished delicately with woven silk flowers.
Like her companion, she was an older woman, but in her day she would have certainly turned heads wherever she went.
“I am fine, Mr. Redmund.
I would like you to meet my wife, Dalila.”
“My pleasure.”
Erick bowed again toward the beautifully elegant Dalila as Jibade continued his questioning.
“And where is your wife?”
Mr. Jibade looked around the four corners of the lobby, and Erick hated the fact he was having to answer this question so soon. Keeping eye contact so nobody would know he was telling tall tales, Erick’s stomach tightened slightly as he began to explain.
“Oh, she got detained in
London
, but will be here later tonight or tomorrow.”
Actually, Erick realized he had no clue when she would arrive; he only hoped it would be sooner rather than later.
From his extensive research into the local culture, Erick discovered family was incredibly important to his new friends, and at least for the next week while he was here, he was bound and determined family would be important to him too.
“We will look forward to meeting your wife when she arrives.”
The cell phone rang again and although Erick knew it was rude, he needed to see who it was.
“Excuse me; I need to see if this is word about my….
wife
.”
“Yes, of course.”
Erick turned away as he answered, hearing a familiar voice on the other end of the line.
“Gloria here.”
“Yes, I know; what is it?”
“I just got a call from Diana Lovemore, who asked me to call you.
Your…friend, Cindy, will be leaving out of
London
first thing tomorrow morning and the flight takes several hours, so she won’t be getting in until tomorrow around lunch time.”
Erick impatiently rolled his eyes and took a deep breath as he attempted to gain some measure of calm and composure about the situation.
He could wait for her until tomorrow, but the sooner his ‘bride’ was safely by his side, the better.
Let the games begin,
he thought, turning to rejoin his hosts.
“I’m afraid my wife won’t be here until morning. Meanwhile, may I offer you both a drink?”
Within a matter of minutes, Erick was fully invested in his new role as temporary husband.
If only his bride would show up, his plans could begin.
Chapter Eight
Cindy barely moved when the phone began ringing in her room the following morning.
She could faintly hear the noise as her mind slowly began to make sense of it, but her exhaustion fell so heavily on her, she could not move for several rings.
“Hello?”
She groggily sat up in the soft bed and looked around the room, trying to remember where she was.
“Ms. Brown.
Good morning.
This is your wake-up call.”
The strange accent still didn’t completely register.
“Your driver will be by to take you to the airport in thirty minutes.”
The announcement about the flight sent a rush of adrenaline and total recall to Cindy’s brain and she instantly popped out of bed.
Today is the day I’m going to
Morocco
!
In twenty minutes, Cindy was dressed and waiting by the curb.
She hadn’t had time to worry much about her appearance.
She could primp on the flight, but she didn’t want to miss this one and wondered how everything worked out when Erick found out about her delay.
Two hours later, Cindy was back where she should have been the day before, sitting on the flight bound for
Morocco
.
Like the one the day before, this flight was also near full capacity.
Cindy sat in first class and couldn’t help but stare at the lavishly dressed Sheiks and the elegant women who accompanied them.
Cindy walked into the first class section and easily found her aisle seat next to a slightly built dark-haired girl who was busy reading a book.
“Hello.”
The girl looked up to acknowledge Cindy, which made her feel much more relaxed than she’d been on the flight over.
“Hello; are you going to the film festival?”
The girl nodded.
“My father is a producer in Africa.
I am going to meet him and my mother.”
“My name is Cindy.”
“Pleased to meet you, Cindy.
I’m Aziza.”
“Nice to meet you, Aziza.
Do you live in
Morocco
?”
“No, I was born there but now live and go to school in
London
.
My parents and brothers are still there. Is this your first time?”
“Yes, actually it’s my first trip overseas.
I am going to meet some people I’ve never met before.”
“Yes, that happens here.
There are many business dealings going on in our country.
Particularly this week.”
The engines began to rev up as the plane cleared the runway and in her mind, Cindy had to acknowledge how far she’d come in such a short period of time.
She was no longer afraid, for some reason.
She wondered if it was the company she was keeping or the good night’s sleep.
Regardless, she was thrilled this flight would be a far cry from the last.
“You like film?”
“Oh yes.
Back in the
United States
we see a lot of movies.”
“Yes, we often get your older movies here. They are very good.
Where are you from?”
“
Dallas
.”
The young girl’s eyes grew wide as her mind obviously put together a highly idealized version of the place.
“Have you seen the show?”
“
Dallas
, you mean, with J.R. Ewing?”
“That’s the one.
I love it.
It’s brilliant, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely.”
Halfway into the flight after meals and drinks were served, the plane experienced an incredible surge of turbulence and Cindy’s calm demeanor quickly went out the window as she gripped the arm rests again as if she were regressing into her tortured past.
The creamy undertones of Cindy’s skin turned to green as she felt her stomach sour.
Aziza turned to her with a concerned look on her face.
“Are you okay?
You do not look so well.”
“I…I’m not sure.”
“You need some ginger.
Maybe some ginger ale will help you with your illness.”
Cindy pushed the button and ordered some, and was pleased that it did help her settle her stomach until the next wave hit and Cindy was certain she would lose her lunch this time.
“Oh, no.
I don’t feel so well.”
“Breathe.
It will pass.”
Although it unfortunately never passed completely, Cindy made it until the plane landed and crawled out of her seat.
“Thank you for your help, Aziza.
I hope to see you at the festival.”
“You are most welcome.
Many blessings to you.”
Cindy groggily grabbed her small carry-on and marched in step with the other passengers toward the door of the plane.
She gripped the railing on the long metal staircase leading outside and gasped as the dry desert air nearly choked her, blasting her face and filling her lungs. She held on tight and walked outside on wobbly legs.
As she looked up at the bright blue sky and over to the sand-colored building and arched doorway, she immediately noticed Arabic writing on everything and a new wave of panic filled her.
Oh my god! What have I done?
Blinded by the bright sunlight, she slipped inside the strange old building and tried to get her bearings: starting with where to go first.
Hundreds of people were packed in the tight corridors and Cindy felt completely overwhelmed as she looked at each person there and tried to read the signs.
A moment later, she saw a tall gorgeous man standing near the back of the crowd and recognized her name on the sign.
Was that Erick?
He was far better looking than she imagined, even from his picture.
He was an absolutely gorgeous specimen. From what she could tell he stood well over six feet tall, with hazel eyes, sun streaked hair and a tan. His round-collared white shirt was unbuttoned just enough to expose his hairy chest and well-developed muscles.
Her initial impression of him was the same as it was when she first saw his picture.
He was clearly the most handsome man she had ever seen.
Just looking at him, standing there with her name handwritten on that sign, forced a huge lump into her throat and an equally big knot into her stomach.
How will I be able to speak to him, let alone stay with him all week?
Afraid to approach him at first, Cindy didn’t call attention to herself right away, and it was clear he hadn’t yet seen her.
Finally, she realized she would have to face the music. She took a deep breath, walked toward him and noticed the moment they made eye contact.
“Erick? I’m Cindy.”
Erick stood staring at her, not smiling in a way that made her feel welcome or secure.
He simply stared for a few seconds too long before finally speaking.
“Hi.
I’m Erick.
Glad you could make it.”
Was he being sarcastic?
“I’m sorry about the delay.
They gave my seat away to someone else.”
“I heard you were sick.
Are you okay?”
Cindy didn’t tell anyone she was sick and wondered how he knew that.
How embarrassing!
“Oh, it was nothing.
I’m fine now, thanks.
I’ll be right back.”
The look on Erick’s face told her he wasn’t too happy about her delay, although Cindy could hardly wonder why.
She needed to get away from him for a minute, regain her composure, take a few deep breaths. Cindy stepped into the ladies room and finally got a good look at herself in the mirror.
“Oh my god, I look hideous!”
She stepped close enough to the mirror to see the sleep gathered in the corner of her eyes and promptly wiped them clean.
The corners of her mouth were dry and flaky which she also remedied with a few splashes of cold water.
It was no wonder the guy was in shock over her.
A horrible feeling filled her gut as she realized Erick was more than likely completely repelled by her. Now she was stuck here and would have to spend an entire week with him.
She wanted to curl up in a tiny ball and hide, but realized that wasn’t possible.
She splashed water on her face and pulled her hair down for a minute to straighten it and her band broke.
Oh, great.
Now she would have to let this greasy mess hang free past her shoulders.
She wanted to run kicking and screaming far, far away from here, but where would she go?
Staring at her exhausted image in the mirror, Cindy began thinking of Erick, who wore an obviously expensive white silk shirt and linen khaki pants, his blonde wavy hair slicked back perfectly, his pearly white teeth glistening in the hot desert sun.
He was a dream man—a fantasy for someone else.
But not for her.
Why she thought for a minute that she would be able to be with someone like him was the question she was now forced to ask herself as she stared at her reflection.
“It’ll be okay; it’s only for a few days.”
Chapter Nine
Erick’s eyes grew wide as he stood there speechless, staring at the tall lanky brunette as she walked out of the bathroom, greasy hair pulled partially out of an unkempt ponytail that looked like something from the ’70s, gazing at him through the thick smudged lenses of her glasses.
My god! What have I done?
“Hi. Thanks for waiting.”
She did have a pretty smile, Erick thought, trying his best to think of something,
anything
, positive.
“So you’re Cindy…”
Something about the way he said it, or maybe it was the look on his face he tried hard to hide, made the poor girl burst into tears.
He wanted to act compassionate toward her, but truly didn’t know how.
Erick remembered the breathing techniques he learned from a sexy yoga teacher he dated once and decided now would be an excellent time to employ them to give off a more compassionate look and try to calm her down.
“I’m glad you’re here.
I’m sorry you were sick.
I’m going to take you back to the hotel so we can get you something good to eat, okay?”
Cindy sniveled and nodded.
“I’m so sorry about this, Erick.
I’ve never flown before, and I wasn’t feeling well.”
“It’s okay.”
Erick wondered if there was some side servants’ entrance he could slip her into when they got back to the hotel.
Somehow, he was going to have to get this woman transformed, and it seemed as though he would need more help that he originally thought to do it.
Sure, he wanted plain, but this was going a bit overboard.
It just goes to show, you can’t tell what people look like from a picture
.
“Thanks.
I appreciate your understanding.”
“The agency said you were a world traveler, so I was just a bit surprised you got sick, that’s all.”
“I’m so sorry about that.
When I filled out my questionnaire I said I would like exotic world travel, but I’d never been out of
Iowa
until two years ago.”
Could this nightmare get any worse?