Power and Passion (18 page)

But then on the other hand, she simply
wasn't ready. She knew, of course, that her parents wouldn't want
her to be so unhappy, so hurt. They wanted her to be happy, and
they knew she had been that way with Pierce. No matter their
cultural, ethnic, or religious differences, somehow they had found
a way to make it work, and Sara knew her parents had accepted
that.

Only now she knew it didn't work. What she'd
had with Pierce had been broken for a long time, and she'd never
wanted to admit it. Now she had no choice, but she wasn't quite
ready to discuss it with anyone else.

"I'll see you in the morning, okay?" she
said then went to hug her mother and father quickly.

"All right," her mother agreed, her voice
sounding tentative. "Sleep well," she added, and her father agreed,
adding his own goodnight.

Sara turned and went down the hall to her
room, where she slipped into bed without even changing her clothes.
She pulled the covers up over her head, and in the complete
darkness and warmth, she cried again until she finally fell
asleep.

* * *

Every morning was a little better; it was a
little easier for Sara to get out of bed and start her day. That
Tuesday she got up early and had breakfast with her parents, who
seemed pleased by the effort she made and that she looked a bit
happier than she had when she'd come in from work the previous
nights.

"Maybe you should take some time off," Ali
told her as he sat back in his chair. Soraya, pouring cups of
coffee for them all, nodded in agreement and glanced at her
daughter with a knowing eye.

"I can't, Dad," Sara said, trying her best
to keep her voice light and her tone upbeat. "Too much to do. As
always. We have lots of competitions coming up."

"And how about the plans for the gala?" her
mother asked as she took a seat next to her husband. "How is all
that going?"

"Oh, better than I'd ever imagined it
would." Finally Sara was able to offer her parents a genuine smile.
Just the thought of the gala brightened her spirits; she actually
found she couldn't wait to get into the office to start working on
it again. "With Joan and Maryam's help, we're making enormous
strides. Of course I still have to get approval from the
higher-ups, but I can't believe they'll turn it down when they see
all the work we've done and how successful it can really be."

"That's what I like to hear," said Ali, a
big grin on his face. "That's our Sara. Always sure that—what's the
saying? Where there's a will—"

"There's a way," Soraya completed for him,
nodding her head again and looking at Sara as if awaiting her
approval.

"Yes, that's it. That's the saying," she
said and made a mental note not to forget it either.

An hour later she was pulling up to the SO
office. She parked in her designated spot then jumped out of the
car, anxious to get to her computer and see if those other two
responses had come in. It wasn't like they had to; if two people
out of twelve did not approve of her idea or offer their support,
it wasn't a big deal. But the more positive feedback she received,
the more energized she felt.

"And there we go," she said then spun around
in her chair one time, hands in the air in a victory pose. Those
last two emails—one from the SO Kuwait office, another from the
financial department in the regional office—had come in, and both
were as she'd hoped they would be: full of accolades and offers of
assistance.

"Where are we going?" asked Isabella,
stopping in the doorway of Sara's office.

Sara looked up at her, a bright expression
on her face. "Anywhere we want," she exclaimed then waved her
friend to sit down in front of the desk.

"Sounds good," Isabella agreed as she took a
seat. "Except…I don't think I have any vacation time left." She did
a mock scowl that made Sara laugh lightly.

"Listen, I'm just joking," Sara said,
turning back to her computer monitor. "I just got a couple of
emails I was waiting for, and they said exactly what I wanted them
to. So I'm excited is all."

"Oh, yeah?" Isabella asked, leaning forward
and putting her forearms on the edge of the desk. She glanced at
the screen too. "About what?"

Sara clicked one of them open and scanned
the words written there again.
Wonderful idea…happy to help…call
me as soon as you can
. They all said essentially the same
thing, but Sara loved to read it each and every time.

"About the gala," she told her friend,
lowering her voice a bit and glancing out into the hallway, making
sure no one was lurking out past the door.

"Oh, the gala," Isabella repeated, a look of
surprise on her face. "So it's coming together then? Is this really
going to happen after all?"

Sara looked at her for a moment, pursing her
lips. "I don't want to make any predictions this early," she
replied slowly. "But if I had to bet…well, I don't know, but so far
it's looking pretty good. You want to see my proposal?"

Isabella sat up straight in her chair. "Oh,
yes!" She seemed almost as excited as Sara was. "Can I?"

"Of course," Sara replied, bringing it up on
the computer then hitting the "print" button. In a moment it came
feeding out of the inkjet behind her; she turned around in her
chair, snapped up the warm papers, and handed them right over to
Isabella across the desk.

Sara sat quietly while her friend perused
the document. It wasn't finished yet, far from it; there were
plenty of holes to fill in with projections and numbers and
expectations. But there was new information coming in every day,
sometimes every hour, plus she had a lunch meeting with Maryam and
Joan that day. She would bring the proposal with her and see what
they could fill in then.

"Wow, Sara," Isabella said, flipping over to
the last page. She read for a moment more then looked up at her.
"This is incredible. I can't believe you've gotten all this done
already. I mean…a bid from the Grand Creek Dubai? That's no joke."
Sara laughed a little. "No, it's not. It's pretty serious,
actually. Isabella, I told you I would make this happen. And I'm
doing it, right?"

"You sure are," Isabella said, looking at
Sara with a big smile. "I'm not saying I didn't think you could do
it, but you've done more than I really thought would be possible in
such a short amount of time."

"Neither did I," Sara agreed quietly, again
feeling grateful for all the help she'd had along the way. "Now
listen. I want to talk to you about possible marketing plans. Do
you have a few minutes to brainstorm with me?"

Isabella agreed; Sara's excitement over this
project was infectious, and she wanted to help. A few minutes,
however, turned into a couple of hours, at the end of which they
had a flowchart of potential marketing for the event all mapped out
on the office's whiteboard.

"Do you really think this will work?" Sara
asked as they sat back and looked at it. There were lists and
arrows, bullet points and question marks and big, red asterisks
marking the most important steps. Another dose of chaos, she
thought, but then she was growing to like that sort of thing.

Isabella nodded. "Absolutely it will work."
She looked at Sara and nudged her in the side with her elbow.
"You're working with the best, you know." They both laughed then
Isabella added, "As long as you get your approval, you leave the
rest of this up to me. Once the bigwigs say it's a go, I'll get my
team on it. We will
make
it work."

"What would I do without you?" Sara said,
impulsively turning to give her friend a quick hug. Isabella
embraced her as well then pulled back and looked at her.

"Hopefully we'll never find out," she said
then tossed her whiteboard marker onto the desk. She headed toward
the door waving a finger at the chart. "Just don't forget to have
an intern transcribe that before it gets erased."

Sara smiled until Isabella was long gone
down the hallway. Isabella's support kept her going, just like the
enthusiastic help of her interns and the fountain of knowledge and
experience she had in Joan and Maryam.

* * *

At almost the last minute, Sara texted Joan
and Maryam to ask if they could meet in the late afternoon instead
of at lunchtime. With the impromptu meeting with Isabella out of
the way, she had to catch up on all the things she was supposed to
do that morning.

"Can't work on the gala all day," she
mumbled to herself, wishing that it weren't true.

Sara got to work, answering emails and
returning phone calls, setting up meetings for the following week
with more parents and other representatives from SO offices in the
region. Finally it was time to go meet Maryam and Joan. She printed
out two more copies of her presentation, one for each of them, then
made her way downtown. Thankfully there wasn't much traffic, and
she arrived at the Chinese bistro just as the others were getting
there as well. They exchanged handshakes and kisses on each cheek
now that they were all more familiar with one another.

"So how are you both doing?" Sara asked as
they settled at a table inside. A waitress came over immediately,
and they ordered coffee with appetizers and kung pao chicken.

"Doing very well, thanks," Maryam said
first, smiling at the other two women. "Making good progress on the
volunteer front. So far I have a list of twenty definites and
another six maybes for people to work the event."

"Oh, Maryam, how wonderful. Thank you," Sara
said. This news made her feel so hopeful. That kind of community
interest and support boded very well for the entire project. "It's
really been no problem at all," Maryam replied. "As soon as I
describe what we want to do, people are practically jumping
onboard. There've been only a few who said no outright, and they
were mostly due to potential scheduling conflicts."

Sara nodded and took a sip of her coffee.
"And, Joan, I already know what you've been up to. I got your
report from Mina yesterday with the news about the bids from the
Grand Creek and Marks Regency."

"Really?" Maryam interrupted, her eyes wide
as she looked at Joan. "You got them to commit?"

"Well, it's tentative, of course, but yes.
They were very interested in hosting the gala. I wouldn't be
surprised if we have a little bidding war when it comes time to
make the final decision. This could be very high-profile for them
both, and no business wants to turn away good publicity."

"Regardless of the reason they agreed," Sara
went on, "it's still quite impressive, Joan. You really must know
some people in high places."

Joan smirked. "Just a few," she said then
laughed with the others. "Oh, and I have some more news for you
too. You're going to like this one."

"Really? Tell us," Maryam said, sitting
forward in her seat.

Joan looked at her then at Sara. "Remember I
sent you that web article about Saif Al Khalifa?"

"Oh, sure," Sara replied, feeling more
relaxed and realizing just how hungry she was. She reached for the
crispy greens on the plate the waitress had brought over. "He's a
marathon runner from the Emirates, Maryam. Do you know him?"

"Do I know him?" Maryam asked with a bit of
a laugh. "Who doesn't? You have to live under a rock not to know
who Saif is these days. He's all over the news, the magazines—and
my students can't stop talking about him. Some of the boys are even
growing their hair long like he does. Isn't that funny?"

Sara smiled at her friend, thankful for the
bit of levity she brought to the meeting.

"Okay, so we all know who he is," Joan went
on, as always looking to push ahead on business matters. "And
now…well, let's just say he knows who we are too."

"Joan, you didn't," Sara said, dropping her
hand to the table, holding the bit she was about to put in her
mouth.

Joan smiled and nodded, looking fairly
pleased with the surprised reaction this news drew from her
friends. Sitting next to her, Maryam was also looking at her with
her eyes once again quite wide.

"You talked to Saif Al Khalifa?" Maryam
asked, whispering as if it were a secret.

"Well, not me but my assistant, Mina," Joan
replied. "And not to him but to
his
assistant, a young man
by the name of Eric. They played a little phone tag for a while and
eventually got a hold of each other, and when Mina told Eric about
the gala, he said it might be something Saif would be interested
in. He's very big, it seems, on supporting local organizations,
especially ones having to do with sports."

Sara clapped her hands together. "Joan, this
is amazing!

I can't believe he wants to be
involved."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Joan
warned, holding up a hand, palm out. "We haven't even spoken to the
man himself yet. But tomorrow morning, when you get to work, you're
going to call Mina and tell her your availability for the coming
week, and she'll set up the call for you, okay?"

Sara paused. She blinked her eyes as she
looked at Joan. "I—
I'm
going to talk to Saif Al Khalifa?"
Two bolts, one of giddy excitement and one of cold fear, ran
through her at once. "But what am I going to say? Joan, I
can't—"

"Yes, Sara. Yes, you can," Joan cut in
calmly, her voice low and patient. "You certainly can talk to him.
Look, so the man can run fast. He's still a human being just like
you and me. All you need to do is tell him about the Special
Olympics, about the gala, and about your goals in holding
it—raising funds and awareness, cultivating community involvement,
all the good stuff. I know you can do that." She took a sip of her
coffee and eyed Sara over the rim of the cup. The younger woman
still looked nervous. "Listen, let me know when you get the
appointment set, and I'll give you some pointers. All right?"

At that suggestion, Sara seemed to deflate a
bit. Her straight back relaxed, and she put a hand up to her chest.
"Oh, that would be great, Joan. Thank you. I would appreciate
it."