Pyramids and Promises (Omega Mu Alpha Brothers Book 2)

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Check out book 1

Book 1 Sneak Peek: Chapter 1

Book 1 Sneak Peek: Chapter 2

Copyright © 2016 by Kimberly Loth

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced in any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues, in the is book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is completely coincidental.

Cover design by Rebecca Frank

Ebook design and formatting by Write Dream Repeat Book Design LLC

Mom

You’re a survivor

T
he dry heat sucked all the moisture out of Jessica’s skin. She wasn’t sure which was worse, Russia’s bitter cold winter or this. She squared her shoulders. She wanted this. There wasn’t going to be any wallowing in self-pity. A man waited for her just outside the gate. He wore a nice suit and held a sign with her name on it. She waved him down, and he took her carry-on bag.

“Welcome to Egypt!” He beamed at her. She gave him a weak smile, and he continued. “Did you have a nice flight, Mrs. Erikson?” he asked in a thick Egyptian accent.

“I did. Thank you.”

She followed him into a chaotic mess of people. The line at passport control was as long as any Jessica had ever seen. When they finally reached the front, he took her passport from her. The man spoke in rapid Arabic to the agent on the other side of the glass, and within seconds they were on their way to the baggage carousel.

He was efficient, moving her through the crowd quickly. She wanted to stop and look out one of the windows. Everything she’d seen outside of her airplane window had been brown sand. One of Jessica’s biggest fears moving from Moscow to Cairo was the lack of color. Moscow had been so full of color. Even in the winter, the buildings were red and gold. Here, there was only desert. She hated brown. And sand.

“Do you have many bags?” he asked. He was two steps ahead of her and already watching bags roll down the carousel. Jessica pushed her way through throngs of passengers to join him.

“Three. They are fairly large.” She would be getting a shipment in a few weeks, but she knew from experience that living in a foreign country would be easier if she started out with as many comforts from home as possible.

People were everywhere. They shoved in all around her. Hands grabbed at bags. Not all were careful where they were grabbing either. Claustrophobia threatened to overwhelm her and send her into a panic attack. She never felt that way in Russia. Moscow hadn’t been quite this intense. The wide-open spaces of the countryside allowed her to feel at home even though she was a long way from South Dakota.

They weaved through the masses of humanity to the sliding doors leading out of the airport. The heat smacked her like an exhaust pipe blowing in her face. It wasn’t humid like summer in South Dakota, but it certainly was the hottest air she’d ever breathed. Her thick blonde hair clung to her neck. If only she had a hair tie. She imagined from now on she’d be wearing lots of ponytails.

Three women waved excitedly at her from the pickup lane. They stood next to a white SUV that was nicer than most of the vehicles that whizzed past. But it wasn’t the vehicle that caught her attention.

All three wore varying shades of the brightest flowered sundresses that Jessica had ever seen. It was the same simple dress, but one was blue, one was pink, and the final one was yellow. They were their very own bouquet. Jessica glanced nervously at her guide.

“There’s your ride,” he said with a hint of a smile. “The Embassy Welcoming Committee. You’ll be in good hands with them.”

“You’re leaving me?” Panic rose up the back of her throat. He was quick, long-legged, and for heaven’s sake, she didn’t even know his name, but she didn’t want him to abandon her. They had a community liaison office (or CLO as everyone called it) in Moscow, but that was pretty low-key. Diplomatic housewives who would help new families settle in and organize local sightseeing trips. But this was completely over the top.

“I work here at the airport, getting everyone through customs.” He dipped his head as the flowered ladies ran up. “They are a lot to take in, but they mean well.”

He melted back inside as Pink Flower grabbed her into a hug.

“Welcome to Egypt!” She squeezed Jessica tight. “I’m Melinda. And this is Marcy and Molly.”

She gestured to Blue and Yellow respectively. Melinda, Marcy, and Molly. Goodness. This was like something out of a Disney movie. All they needed were wands and wings, and they could be fairy godmothers.

“My husband, Jeff, can help you with your bags,” Melinda drawled out in a thick Texas accent. Jessica hadn’t even noticed the poor man following the women. He smiled and took Jessica’s luggage cart from her.

“We’ll get you settled into your apartment, and the gals here will show you around Maadi,” he said. He was a small khaki blob in comparison to his brightly-colored wife. He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days.

“It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for the welcome,” Jessica said.

Melinda linked her arm through Jessica’s and pulled her toward the SUV. “Your apartment is right around the corner from ours.”

“And only one floor down from both of us,” Marcy chimed in.

“It’s unusual for a transfer to happen in April. Did your paperwork get held up or something?” Molly had the cutest brown bob of curls that popped against her yellow dress.

“Molly.” Marcy elbowed her friend in the stomach. “We agreed we wouldn’t ask. Yet, anyway.” But she looked at Jessica with curiosity in her eyes.

“Something like that.” Jessica nodded. Her flight had been long, and she was tired. Not from flying, it wasn’t really that far, but for the first time in months, she felt like she could relax. Here in Cairo, she didn’t have to look over her shoulder. She’d answer all their questions, but in due time.

The sheer number of people and volume of the chatter was like nothing Jessica’d experienced before. Most moved out of the way of the brightly-colored Americans though. As a group, they were quite intimidating. Several men accosted Jeff, trying to take the cart or asking “taxi?” a thousand times. Jeff was doing a nice job with the luggage trolley and successfully dodged the masses.

Jessica sat in the backseat, sandwiched between Molly and Marcy. Melinda twisted around from the front.

“So you came from Moscow. That must be an interesting place. Our last assignment was in Venezuela.” Melinda smiled brightly.

“And the weather is so different. Did you decide you hated the cold?” Molly asked.

“Molly!” squeaked Marcy. “You’ll have to excuse her. Molly is the newbie of the group. This is her hubby’s first assignment. She’s still learning the ropes of how these transfers work.”

Jessica hung her head. While on the plane, she tried to come up with a good story. Fantastic opportunity. Lifelong dream to see Egypt. Or some such nonsense. Right now though, she couldn’t remember a single line of it. She was going to have to do better before she started work.

“Thanks for picking me up,” she said instead. “Do you know how long it takes for our cars to arrive?”

Melinda pursed her lips. “Around two months or so. But there is a lot of public transportation. Be sure you attend the meeting on what you can and can’t take. The metro is off-limits. Also, never get into a black cab.”

Jeff hopped in behind the wheel as Melinda finished.

“Most cabs are white. Make sure they have an orange license plate, or you’ll be getting in a car with someone who isn’t a taxi driver. That’s the only distinction between normal cars and taxis,” he said. “You’re welcome to catch a ride with me to the embassy until your car does come though.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind. What’s wrong with the black cabs?”

“Some people will tell you nothing, but they aren’t metered, and they are old, old cars. Most expats will risk them anyway, but the embassy tells us we can’t.”

Marcy leaned forward. “One of my friends got in a black cab, and there was cardboard on the floor. She thought it was just to protect the carpet, but her foot went right through and landed on the street.”

Jessica sighed. There were all these unspoken rules she’d have to learn all over again. She’d just gotten the hang of it in Moscow. Plus, there she knew the language. Here, she didn’t have a clue what was being said.

“You must be exhausted.” Molly’s mop of curls bounced as she patted Jessica’s hand. “Traveling always does a number on me.”

“Yeah, sorry. In spite of the fact that I should be good at this, I’m not,” said Jessica.

“Don’t be sorry,” Marcy said and patted Jessica’s other hand. “At least you’ve got a few days until you have to be to work.”

That was true. It was Wednesday, and she didn’t have to report to work until Monday.

“A few days rest and you’ll be right as rain,” Melinda added from the front seat.

The cars around them honked and swerved. Traffic laws didn’t seem to apply. It was like a school of fish all moving around each other. Terrifying. She laughed out loud when a small sedan passed them, and she saw no less than ten people crammed into the small space, with another three sitting on the trunk.

Melinda pointed. “You’ll see stuff like that all the time here. I hope you have a good camera.”

Jeff had achieved expert level at navigating the crazy streets. He turned just in time to avoid a collision with a small truck and a tiny car. Lots of honking and shouting, but it didn’t faze him in the slightest. Another turn, another near miss, with a group of pedestrians this time. Still Jeff was as cool as could be.

“How long have you guys been here?” Jessica asked on a particularly stomach-churning curve.

“Two years.” Melinda leaned into the curve and shouted over her shoulder as Jeff laid on the horn. “We were supposed to be moving on next year, but we asked for an extension because our oldest wants to graduate here.”

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