Sadiq nodded and pulled his mother’s hands up to his mouth, kissing them. He smiled and let out a long sigh, wondering if she was right. They sat together for a while as Sadiq filled his mother in on the tour and how he was thinking of starting his own record company before he eventually came to inherit the throne. Before long, his mother became tired, and Sadiq left her alone to rest.
He spent the next few hours wandering around his parents’ estate, thinking about what he should do. When it was time to return to the jet, his father asked if he could escort him in the car. The two men sat in the back of the limo talking about Sadiq’s mother, her health and a few family business affairs. Finally, Mehdi turned to him with a solemn expression.
“Sadiq,” he said in a quiet but firm voice. “You are my son. I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”
Sadiq watched as his father, normally so cool and in control, cleared his throat and picked at his fingernails.
“I know, Father,” he said, watching the tension fall from Mehdi’s face. “I love you, too. It’s just that I’m a grown man now, and I have my own ideas, my own plans, my own dreams. I want to do things that are different from what you want for me. That doesn’t make them wrong. It doesn’t make them unacceptable. It just means they’re different.”
“Yes, I think I’m starting to learn that,” his father said softly.
“Father, all I’ve ever wanted is to be happy. And right now, all I want is for you to accept me for who I am, no matter what that means.”
Mehdi looked at him and blinked. Sadiq had never seen his father afraid, but for an instant, he thought he saw a hint of something flash behind his eyes.
“I will do whatever it takes to make you happy,” his father said. “Because I’m scared that if I don’t, I might lose you again.”
The words pierced Sadiq’s heart. He was hearing the words he had longed to hear his entire life.
Suddenly overcome with emotion, Sadiq threw his arms around his father and hugged him tightly. When the two men separated, both of their faces were wet with tears.
“So, tell me about this jazz singer,” Mehdi said with a grin.
Sadiq looked at his father in surprise. Then the two men smiled, and spoke in unison. “Mother.”
***
When he returned to the palace on the mainland, Sadiq found he had a renewed sense of purpose. He was overjoyed that his relationship with his father had been restored, but he was also more worried than ever about his mother’s health. He spent the next few days staying on top of his father’s affairs so that he could spend more time with his wife until she was fully recovered. He also contacted all of the clubs that Hannah had performed at to personally thank them for allowing her to put on her shows.
The days rolled into weeks and Sadiq was still unsure what to do about Hannah. He kept himself busy with work, his parents and looking into opportunities to further establish himself in the music business. When his days ended, he would go up to his room alone and listen to the recordings he had made of all of Hannah’s performances, wondering where she was and what she was doing, and if she was thinking about him, too.
NINETEEN
Hannah’s first few weeks back in Brooklyn were far from easy. The catering company had taken on several new people and couldn’t offer her any more than a couple of shifts a week—nowhere near enough to pay her bills. She started looking for singing gigs, but found things were worse than when she’d first arrived in New York. The jobs had been few and far between then; now that she’d been fired from her only singing job in the city, she was having no luck at all.
In addition to her time with Sadiq having done a number on her emotionally, singing almost every night for six weeks had taken its toll on Hannah’s body. The day she had got home from El-Shakanish, she had fallen into bed and slept for almost sixteen hours. When she finally awoke and began looking for work, she did so with dark circles under her eyes and a rasping voice. She had come down with a terrible cold and found herself searching the want ads over a hot cup of chicken noodle soup and a box of tissues. She laughed ruefully at the irony of it all; even if she had managed to find a singing job, she wouldn’t have been able to perform. It was just as well, really, because every time she thought of singing it made her think about Sadiq, and she figured that being in a club would only bring that memory home even more.
Hannah had been back in the city for about a week when Chloe returned from her trip and asked her friend to fill her in on everything that had happened in the time she’d been away. Hannah spoke for what seemed like hours about the fascinating history of El-Shakanish and the kindness of its people, going into vivid detail describing the ruins, temples and other places Sadiq had taken her, and talking at length about the palace, the grounds and the staff she had met.
“And,” Chloe said when Hannah was done.
“And what?” Hannah answered through a tissue.
“And what about the Sheikh? You seem to have left out any details about him.” Chloe eyed her friend suspiciously.
Hannah sat back against the sofa and rubbed her red nose. “Oh, him.”
“Yeah, him,” Chloe said, ribbing her friend. She had not heard one thing about him the entire six weeks and now, after listening to Hannah go on about her trip for so long, she was dying to know everything about her time with the international playboy.
“C’mon, Hannah, tell me all the dirty little details,” she said, laughing.
A flush ran up Hannah’s body and she felt her face heat up. The words ‘dirty little secret’ reminded her of how Sadiq thought of her. She grabbed another tissue and started to dab at her nose, and then moved up to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had started to form.
Chloe noticed and scooted in close to her friend. “Han, what is it? Did I say something to upset you?”
Hannah just shook her head, but Chloe realized what had happened.
“It was him, wasn’t it? Did he do something? Did he hurt you? You tell me where he is, Han, and I swear to you, I’ll go beat the snot out of him. Don’t let this delicate frame fool you,” she said, pointing to her curvy figure. “I was raised on the street and know how to use these guns.” She lifted her arms up and flexed her biceps.
Hannah laughed in spite of herself. She reached her hand out and gently lowered Chloe’s arm. “No, he didn’t hurt me. I mean, not intentionally, I don’t think.”
“I want to know all about it, everything. But first, let me get some wine.”
“You might want to get a lot,” said Hannah. “It might take a while.”
Chloe went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle and a glass and returned to the living room. She poured a glass then sat back and listened as Hannah told her everything that had happened between her and Sadiq from the moment she got into the limo in Brooklyn, right up until she said goodbye to Naasir at the airport.