The Sheikh's Illicit Affair (5 page)

“You make it sound amazing. But love can suck. It doesn’t last, and when it ends, it hurts.”

“Isn’t it worth it, though? To feel so alive?”

She took a long sip of wine. “I guess. Unless you end up loving the wrong person.”
Or having feelings for someone who isn’t available in the first place
, she thought.

“I should probably get going,” Megan said.

“We just got here. You can stay a little while, can’t you? We at least have to finish the bottle.”

It would be a shame to waste it. Besides that, Zaakir had learned the tango so quickly that he wouldn’t need any more lessons. He would be married in a matter of days, and this would be the last time she saw him. Why not take advantage of every minute, if they were all she’d ever have?

“Okay,” she said. “But enough of this talk of love. Tell me more about your work.”

“It’s not all that interesting, really. I buy businesses and sell them. I make investments and collect the money when they pay off.”

“You make it sound so easy. I know it’s not. I watched my parents fail.”

“I have good contacts and advisers. I’ve been learning about business since I was a small boy. I have an instinct for these things. I do make bad investments and bad deals on occasion. Everyone does. But overall, my profits outweigh my losses.”

“I sense an understatement there; the limo, the wine, the outrageous amount of money you paid me for two private lessons. You’re obviously a big success.”

“Oh, I do well enough,” he agreed, “but I don’t consider myself a success.”

“How is that possible?”

“I have yet to win the love of a woman.”

“But you’re about to be married. Surely you’ll win her over with your charm and wit.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think women in my home country are all that impressed by charm and wit. Money, yes. But there is more to me than that.”

“She’ll see that. You just spent two nights learning the tango so you could dance well at your wedding. That shows dedication to a bride you haven’t even spent much time with.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I think she’s a very lucky woman,” Megan said, avoiding his unasked question. She tipped the last of the wine into their glasses and set the bottle down. “I hope I’ll find love someday too.”

How she wished it could be Zaakir. Not that she needed his money or fame—she’d had enough of that life. But when she thought of how he held her when they danced, how he glided and turned with her on the floor, she knew she didn’t want someone else. What was it he had said?
Like water, like music
when they danced. But she also felt electricity, heat, and his undeniable strength. If she was water, he was the earth beneath her. If she was music, he was the cry of the violin strings. She wished they could stand up and dance right now.

“I know you will. You are a fine woman, Megan.”

She took a long sip, finishing her wine. “I really have to go.”

Zaakir looked as though he was about to say something, but held back. He motioned to the waitress for the check.

“I thought this was your wine?” Megan asked when the waitress had brought the bill.

“Yes, but there is a corking fee and a serving fee. And, of course, the tip.”

“Right.”

He signed the slip and stood. She followed him out of the building and to the limo that was waiting by the curb. He held open the door for her to climb in.

“Shall I have my driver take you home or back to the studio?”

“Home would be nice.”

He pressed a small button on the clear panel that separated them. “Omar, we’re going to take Miss Van Lieden to her home.” He turned back to her. “What’s the address?”

She gave him her address and tried to focus on enjoying the last twenty minutes she had with Zaakir, but it was impossible. She wanted to reach over and take his hand. She wanted to kiss him goodnight and feel his smooth lips against hers. It felt like they had only just set off when the car slowed to a stop in front of her building.

Zaakir got out and held the door open for her, then walked her to the door.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” he said softly.

“The pleasure was mine, really. And thank you for the ridiculous tip. It’s way too much, but thank you.”

“The pleasure was all mine, as you say.”

Megan took a moment to really look at his smile one last time, trying to preserve the image, before she turned and walked away.

FIVE

Try as she might, Megan could not get to sleep. As she lay in bed waiting for sleep to come, all that came to mind were thoughts of Zaakir, tangled with thoughts of her parents, her absent love life, her decision about a child. Parts of her night with Zaakir kept coming back to her; the talk of love, the rose, his impending marriage.

When she woke the next morning, she felt exhausted. She made coffee to take with to the studio and drank nearly the whole 16 ounces before she got to the door. Inside, she began her morning cleanup routine: mopping the studio floor, wiping the mirror free of fingerprints, running the little sweeper across the carpet in the waiting room.

When she’d finished, she took out her phone. It was probably too early to call Rachel, who’d been needing lots of extra sleep lately, but she could text her.

So, I not only had the second dance lesson with the Sheikh, but then he asked me out for drinks. Call me ASAP when you get up!

She put her phone on the desk beside her and picked up her class binder. She needed to finish entering the costumes into her order online. It was a long process and somewhat complicated; several hundred students, most with multiple classes and costumes meant a lot of chances to order wrong sizes or forget to order everything each student needed.

She was nearing the end of entering the order when her phone rang and Rachel’s number displayed on her screen.

“What happened last night?” Rachel said, as soon as the call connected. “That was a heck of a text to wake up to.”

“Yeah. Well, it was a heck of a night.” Megan explained how the lesson had gone and how she’d ended up going out with Zaakir afterward.

“Wow. Just wow,” Rachel said. “If he’s not marrying for love, then…”

“I know, but his country has its traditions, and it’s already too late. It’s not like he could back out of the wedding now, and it’s not like we even had a significant enough encounter to back out of a wedding over.”

“Too bad he didn’t come to get lessons months ago.”

“I know, I know. But, I think last night I figured some things out.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Megan leaned back in her chair, preparing to say this all out loud for the first time. “Okay. Well, I think first of all, that I’m too picky to find real love. I—”

“What? Oh come on, you’re not that picky. Don’t say that.”

“No, I just think my view of love and romance is too… I don’t know. Too Hollywood? I want to be swept off my feet. I want to be surprised. But that’s beside the point. I don’t think I want to wait until I’m married to have a baby.”

“Okay… But don’t you think you should think about this a little more?”

“I’m still thinking. I’m not going to make a snap decision about something like this. I have the studio to worry about, and unless you were able to start working again when the time came, I’d have to find someone to take over for me for at least a few weeks. But, there’s something bigger than that.”

Rachel laughed. “Bigger than deciding that love will forever elude you and that you should have a baby alone?”

“Yup.” Megan leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. “I’m going to try to reconcile with my parents.”

“Really? What brought that on?”

“Zaakir and I talked a lot about our families. I’m hoping that after a year of me being here and doing well I will be able to convince them I’m a success. And maybe since they’re so broke, they’ll have gained some humility.”

Rachel huffed. “Doubtful.”

“Yeah, but I have to try. The thing is, if I’m going to have a baby, I’d like that child to know his or her grandparents, even if they’re not perfect.”

“Megan. Are you serious? They’re going to flip out.”

“Probably, but maybe they’ll come around. Maybe they’re ready to stop caring what other people think for the sake of their grandchild. I hear becoming a grandparent is a big deal. People go nuts over grandkids, don’t they?”

“They do. Trust me.” Megan could almost hear her friend rolling her eyes at that. “My parents and Matt’s parents are driving us a bit nuts. But Megan. You’re not married and having a baby. And while I fully support the single parent thing, you know your parents won’t. And it’s not like you just got pregnant after sleeping with someone. You won’t know who the father is and you’re paying for his sperm.”

“They don’t have to know that part.”

“What, you think you’ll keep it from them?”

“I’ll refuse to tell them and if they’re persistent about it. I’ll think of something - say it was a horrible one night stand and I don’t even know the guy’s name.”

“I’m not sure that’s any better than telling them you went to a sperm bank. At least then you could tell them you picked a donor with a few million in the bank or something.”

“I have plenty of time to figure that part out. What do you think of all this, though? Am I nuts?”

“Of course not. I think you’re doing what you’ve done your whole life, Megan. You’re going after what you want and doing whatever it takes to get there. And, like everything else you pursue, you’ll succeed.”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

SIX

Later that night, Megan was pacing around her living room, holding her phone. She’d scrolled through her contacts, brought up her mom’s picture, and froze—she needed to practice what she was going to say a few more times.

Finally, she took in a few deep breaths, thought
“you can do this, you can do this,”
and pressed Call. She held her breath as the phone rang.

“Yes?”

It wasn’t the greeting she’d been expecting and it caught Megan off guard.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hello.”

“So, um, how are you doing?”

Her mother let out a sigh. “Can we skip the formalities? Just tell me how much.”

Megan’s face was instantly hot with rage. “I’m not calling to ask you for money.”

“Well, I can’t imagine any other reason you’d call.”

“We haven’t talked in a while. I just wanted to see how you were doing, what you’ve been up to.”

“We’re fine, thanks.”

Megan could picture her mother standing in the living room, looking over the sculptures as a housekeeper ran around her, dusting.

“How’s Dad doing?”

“He’s fine.”

“I have my first recital coming up in a few months.”

“Oh no, dear, your first recital was when you were four. That’s something little children do. You had a sparkly blue outfit. Sequins all over the front.”

“I meant for my studio. My studio is having its first recital soon.”

“Oh. That’s nice.”

Her mother’s placating tone raised the hairs on the back of Megan’s neck. She tried her hardest, but was unable to keep from getting defensive. Her rage burned hotter, years of fuel ready to catch fire at the tiniest spark.

“Mom. My studio is very successful. It’s been named one of the top ten in all of Manhattan.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Was her mother deliberately trying to make her angrier? She might be; it would be just like her to do something like that. If she stayed calm while her daughter got angry, it would make Megan seem like the childish, out-of-control one. This was a game her mother loved, and she exceled at it.

“It is! I’m not just saying this. I was in the paper and everything. I know you read the
Times
still.”

“On occasion.”

“Well, I was in there last month. Didn’t you see it?”

“I don’t recall.”

Megan let her head drop. Why did her mother always have to be so difficult?

“I thought that would make you happy. Something to show to your friends.”

“I wouldn’t dream of reminding them that you refused a decent education, moved to the city, and refuse to get married, even though you’re pushing thirty. I’d just as soon hope they forgot.”

“I’m only 28.”

“Oh, don’t remind me. At this rate, I’ll never have grandkids.”

Megan’s heart leapt at this. Her mother did want grandkids, then. Maybe she would turn out to be the crazy grandparent type, after all.

“Well, Mom, what if you were to become a grandparent?”

“Are you pregnant? Oh, good Lord. Please tell me you’re not pregnant out of wedlock.”

The flutter in her heart died.

“No, Mother. I’m not pregnant. But I’d like to be.”

“Oh. Are you calling to ask me to set you up?” Her mother’s voice was suddenly much more cheerful. “The MacKenzie boy just ended a relationship. I don’t think he’s too particular.”

“No, I don’t want to be set up. I was thinking of just going out and sleeping with the first guy I could find.”

She shouldn’t have said it. The truth of what was she planning might be worse, but going about things from this angle wouldn’t benefit her. And it certainly wouldn’t convince her mother to think differently of the situation.

“Well aren’t you a regular comedian,” her mother said flatly.

“What if I did? What if I just showed up pregnant and wasn’t married?”

Her mother let out a long sigh. “So, you are pregnant.”

“No, I’m not. But what would you do if I were?”

“I’m not going to play games with you, Megan. Are you pregnant or not?”

“I’m not.”

“Thank God. At least you managed to do one thing right. Stay on that birth control and make sure it stays that way until you have a husband.”

“Right. I’ll do just that.” Megan shook her head sadly; she hadn’t expected that the conversation would go very well, but she hadn’t thought it would go this badly. “Okay, Mother. I guess I’m gonna go. I just wanted to say hi and see how you were. You seem to be just as fine as always.”

“We are, thank you for calling.”

The phone beeped and Megan looked down at it. Her mother had ended the call.

It took more than a few deep breaths for Megan to calm down. She didn’t want to cry over this. Her mother had made her cry far too many times, and she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction now, even if she knew she couldn’t see her, and would never know.

She felt like a pouty child stopping her foot. She wanted to scream, “But, I am successful, Mommy!” She could almost hear the whine in her voice.

No wonder her mother hadn’t responded well, she thought bitterly. Maybe if she said nothing, but invited her mother to a baby shower when the time came, that would have the effect she wanted. Maybe her mother would call her, upset, asking why she hadn’t known who the father was, and why Megan kept her grandchild a secret for so long.

No, but that’s what normal parents did. Normal parents cared and wanted to know what was going on in their kids’ lives. Not her parents. They wanted a daughter who would benefit them. And Megan only brought them farther down.

And a grandbaby out of wedlock would be no different. She’d been crazy to think it would be. They wouldn’t change and become doting grandparents. No. Her child would be one more thing that made them look bad to others. She could already hear the gossip.
“Megan had a baby.” “No, there’s no father, can you believe it?” “One-night stand, I heard.” “Her poor parents. They must be heartbroken.”

No. But
she
was. Heartbroken for the parents she never had. The childhood she missed out on. The love that was so painfully missing in every way. If it wasn’t for the love of her friends and the love of her job, she’d be completely loveless. Life wouldn’t have meaning.

But she did have Rachel and her other friends. She had a studio full of students who loved her and thought she was the best teacher in the world. She had a newspaper article framed in her office that proved she was successful, even in the eyes of the upscale Manhattanites who weren’t all that easy to please, either. She’d accomplished a lot in a year. Now she wanted someone to share that life with; someone who would recognize all she’d done and all she was capable of.

Of course, Megan thoughts immediately went to Zaakir. She tried to force herself to stop; she was never going to see him again. He would be married any day now, and Megan had no doubt that he’d fall in love, and that his bride would fall in love with him. How could she not? Zaakir was a catch, and any woman would be lucky to have him. She knew if she had him, she’d never stop feeling lucky. Not for a single day of her life.

She didn’t have Zaakir, or any man. And that little fact could either hold her back from having a baby, or she could refuse to let it. She hadn’t let her parents hold her back from living her dream, so why would she let the absence of a husband hold her back from this? She could be her own family. Just her and her child. Who knows, maybe she’d have a few children. And they’d be happy and loved. Real love like the kind you only find in a family.

The more Megan thought about it - about all Zaakir had said about love and about how a family should be - the more she convinced herself that now was the time. She could make that appointment. She could go into a sperm bank and have her own baby. On her own. She didn’t need anyone’s help or approval.

She went to her computer and brought up the website of the sperm bank she’d been reading about. She typed in the phone number, saved it in her phone for future reference, and hit Call.

It rang three times before a female voice answered.

“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment for a consultation, please.”

“I’d be glad to help you with that. Which of our services are you interested in?”

“I’d like to talk to someone about purchasing donor sperm.” Saying it felt weird, but Megan smiled; she was making the first step towards having a child.

“Great. When would you like to come in? I have an opening tomorrow evening.”

“That’s perfect.”

Megan gave the woman her information and saved the appointment in her phone’s calendar.

She hung up and sat, thinking. She’d read enough to know that it didn’t always take the first time, and that she’d need to find a doctor. That would be her next step, assuming everything went well at the consultation. But, if everything did go perfectly, a year from now, she could be holding a baby in her arms. Her apartment could be filled with highchairs and strollers and baby toys. One year from now, she could be a mom. Tears came to her eyes and she breathed through them, laughing, and dreaming.