Suite Dubai (Arriving) by Callista Fox Read Free Book Online

had that come from?

    Her phone vibrated. It was another text from Samantha. Please come to my office , it said. We have a lot to discuss .  

    Oh God, she was going to be fired. She imagined Samantha’s sorry-to-do-this smile, if she had one of those. Rachel straightened her jacket, tucked some escaped tendrils of hair back into her bun and reapplied lipgloss.  

    Samantha’s office was decorated just like hers, with floor to ceiling windows, a sitting area, and a big cherrywood desk. Unlike hers, every surface, from her desk to her sofa and all the floor space near her feet was covered with files and papers. The stacks made a nest around her chair. “Have a seat,” she told Rachel.  

    Rachel relocated the documents on her chair so she could sit.  

    Samantha held up a piece of paper and squinted at it. “I have your timeline here. I’m sorry we didn’t get to it at the meeting.”

    “That’s fine, It’s just a--”  

    “Ninety days,” Samantha said looking at her phone. “Ninety days would put the opening in July, right?” She looked up now. “That, Rachel, is the worst time of the year to have an event. It’s bloody hot here. Not even hot but imagine for a moment the desert, which is where we are, during the hottest part of the year, with the humidity cranked up to a hundred percent. It’s almost unbearable, which is why everyone goes on holiday in July. Even the Prince tries to get away for a few weeks. Goes to San Moritz.”  

    Rachel didn’t say anything.  

    “I was thinking,” she continued, looking at what Rachel assumed was the calendar on her phone. “We could do something sooner, rather than wait until it gets cooler. You don’t really need three months to find someone to serve food. There’s a restaurant right downstairs. Even if you fly something in, oysters, or lobsters, that can be arranged in a snap.”

    Fly something in?

    “How about the end of May? The weather is still, well it’s mild for Dubai. That would give you about 40 days to get this thing planned. How,” she asked, “does that sound?”  

    Impossible came to mind. She fought hard not to say it. Part of her brain was still caught up on the words fly something in . “Sure,” she said. “Fine.” She could say anything, agree to anything. You want dancing hyenas, painted neon green. Sure. You want the hotel’s name written in storm clouds. Absolutely. “So, the last Friday in May?”

    Samantha’s lips stretched to a tight little smile. “Friday, Rachel, is a holy day....like Sunday in the American South. Friday, everyone goes to mosque. Or they stay home while everyone else goes to mosque.”  

    Rachel watched Samantha’s mouth move, her little green eyes narrow, her thin pink lips draw closed like a purse, but she wasn’t listening anymore. This place was so different, even the days of the week meant something else. A Sunday was a Monday. A Thursday became a Friday. And Friday and Saturday, the weekend. She sat there with her legs crossed at the ankles, pretending to listen to Samantha and wondered what else she didn’t know and how would she know that she didn’t know it.  

    “So let’s do that Thursday, shall we?”

    “Why not.” Rachel said, standing up. “Let’s do it Thursday.” Let’s do it tomorrow .

    “Good,” Samantha said. “The Prince has some time today at 4:30 to discuss the event. We can tell him we have a date, at least. We can also discuss the budget. I know you don’t have anything yet.”  

    “No.” Rachel interrupted. “I can have something. An estimate, anyway.”

    “Good,” Samantha said. “I’ll meet you in reception and we can walk up together.”  

    ***

    Hamid had a way of poking his head into her office when she was most distraught.

    “Is anything wrong?” he asked.

    “Nope, just working,” she said, staring at her laptop screen, wishing he’d take the hint that she was busy.  

    Instead he walked in and sat in one of the chairs. “No