The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(7)

She gave me a shy, shaky nod, and I kissed her on the cheek before turning away.

“Good night, Lacie. Whatever you decide, I will understand.”

And then, I walked away to hail another taxi in the bustling Manhattan night, admitting to myself that although I would understand if she turned me down, I wouldn’t like it in the least.





Chapter Eight





Lacie




The bus ride was bad—bumpy and slow, but getting home was worse. With Rashid’s words echoing in my head, my shabby apartment building looked even more run-down than I remembered.

Every step sagged under my weight as I made my way up to the apartment, while the front door wasn’t even shut properly. Even hurrying down the hallway couldn’t stop me from spotting how each corner was filled with the dust and trash that had somehow managed to accumulate in the week since I’d last cleaned.

It smelled dank, it was dark, and the entire place had an air of depression about it. One of my roommates had their TV blaring, and I was glad that at least the other, creepy one wasn’t splayed out in the common room, his gaze trailing after me longer than it should have.

Once I got to my room, I was so exhausted that I collapsed onto the bed, ignoring the pile of laundry atop my sheets. All I had strength for was rolling under the threadbare blanket and closing my eyes.

Yet, drained as I was, my mind wasn’t ready for sleep, instead insisting on filling with images of today’s occurrences: the video, Rashid’s words about our possible arrangement, that devilishly handsome, almost excited-looking face.

Finally, after hours of tossing and turning, I sat up straight in bed and asked myself the question I was really pondering: Would this—agreeing to Rashid’s offer—make me happy?

The answer was as vague and hazy as my room was in the darkness. There was no way of knowing, not now. All I knew now was that I wasn’t happy with my life as it was; that was for sure.



*

I only realized I had fallen asleep when I awoke to knocking on my door, so violent that every blow sent the whole wooden frame shaking. Stumbling out of bed and yanking open the door found me face to face with Dave, my landlord.

At the sight of me wearing last night’s work clothes, his gaunt face sneered with a patronizing disgust. “Rent. You’re a week late.”

A cold blanket of despair fell over me.

“Oh, God. Sorry, Dave. I…my parents—I had to pay for some new medication for my mom and I…” At the sight of his unmoved, grey eyes, I trailed off. “Sorry. I’ll get it to you ASAP.”

At this, his eyes narrowed so much that they almost looked closed. “I don’t want it ASAP; I want it last week.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I mumbled.

For a minute, I was worried he wouldn’t leave, with the hostile way he was eyeing me. But, finally, with one last sneer, he turned and stormed off.

As I stood there, feeling numb, the enormity of the situation hammered down upon me. The dismal reality was that I didn’t have the money for rent—and wouldn’t, not for another two weeks, at least.

My hand reached into my pocket of its own accord.

Out came Rashid's napkin, on which was written the amount he’d promised me, as incredible as before: $1,000,000.

I stared at it. That amount would cover rent for years, along with all the costs to care for my parents, and even the tuition fees for finishing my neurology degree. With that kind of money, I’d never have to worry again.

A weary glance at the clock revealed that it was 6 a.m. Dave had actually come in here and woken me up at dawn, he was so determined to get his money. I crawled back into bed and closed my eyes for what felt like only five minutes.

I opened them to my alarm beeping obnoxiously. It took me a few hits to get it to stop. Rushing around my room to get ready proved valuable; the traffic was bad that morning, and I managed to clock in with one minute to spare. I resisted the urge to do a little dance for this small victory, and instead got to work setting up the store, unlocking the door at eight sharp.

The morning dragged on. Every customer that came in seemed either extra-surly or indecisive, but maybe it was just me being on edge. Finally, when I was locking the shop door to go on my lunch, he appeared, wearing another perfectly-fitting, expensive-looking suit and an indefatigable smile.

“I know, I know, I said I’d give you time to make your choice.” He held out an arm. “But I wanted to take you out again so I can show you what I have to offer. We’re going to brunch.”

At his words, I raised a brow. “Are we?”

Smile not budging, he nodded.

“Yep, we’re going to have a nice chat. You’re going to ask me all the questions you’ve thought about, and I’ll answer all the ones you haven’t even come up with yet. If you still refuse, I’ll just kidnap you in my personal jet.”

I kept my lips sealed shut to stop the smile that was edging onto my own face, but he could see that I was caving to his plan.

“Is that a yes?” He tilted his head at me, sending a perfect dark brown wave of hair over his forehead.

With a sigh, I took his proffered arm. “Well, it’s not a no.”

And so, we were off.

“Thanks for this, by the way,” I said shyly.