Chapter-15: "Why don't I treat you to lunch, today?"

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Noor excuses herself to the washroom, just before leaving Mr. Carter's office building.

She wipes off, the tears, which had clouded her vision, before applying a fresh layer of kohl.

She had to suck it up.

She would be seeing bratty, chauvinist bachelors. She had gotten onto this race, only to defeat them. She had to be strong, to support her values.

Noor recalls, one incident, which had occurred, during the early days of her Confectionery.

"Here, you go, Sir. That will be 90 Riyals." She had been serving a customer, when the owner of the complex, in which her confectionery was situated, appears, looking, quite grim.

"Hello, Sir. How may I help you?" She had questioned.

"Well, I want you to vacate this place, in 2 days." Her customers had been leaving, since, it was closing time.

"But, Sir..." She couldn't do anything.

She was just a mere tenant.

Later, she had found out that, the owner didn't want to lease the apartment, to her, since, she hadn't been earning enough. The male tenant, who had taken her place, would earn more, the owner had supposed.

This deal wasn't in her Qadr. She mutters,

Verily, Allah is with those who are Patient,                                                    إِنَّ اللّهَ مَعَ الصَّابِرِينَ  

 before exiting.

~~~

"Its ok, you know, Ms. Noor," Fahad starts; as they enter the elevator, in order to reach their respective rooms. They would be leaving Los Angeles, the next morning, for Riyadh.

"I know, Mr. AbdurRahman. I do know....It is just that...I don't know." She was confused. She couldn't frame her words. She was bad, at it.

"I have a solution."

"To what?" Noor inquires.

"Why don't I treat you to lunch, today? You have been paying for all of my expenses. I could pay you back. We could go around the city, later, maybe?"

"No. We couldn't..."

"We could...It will cure your mood. It will be great." He insists.

"I-"

"I will see you, in the reception, in 20 minutes."

Wait, What?

~~~

Thirty minutes later, Noor arrives, while wearing a black shirt, with a black chiffon skirt. She has a white colored hijab, on, with a sartorial niqab.

Her black outfit, coincidentally, matches with Fahad's black button-down, and washed out jeans.

Plain coincidence, Really?

"We are going to," He unfolds a map, in order to pronounce the name, right. "Earthen Restaurant," He states.

"That wasn't hard, to pronounce." Noor chuckles.

"Whatever! I am just bringing out the feels," He states, while hailing a cab.

~~~

"After you," Fahad gestures ahead of her.

"After you, Mr. AbdurRahman."

"Go on, Ms. Noor. I don't mind."

"After you-"

"Sir, Ma'am," The door man calls out, irritated. "We have couples' discounts, in here. Come in, already..." He huffs, as Fahad walks ahead of her, trying to hide the pinkish hue, which had already caught, Noor's eye.

A soft chuckle escapes her mouth. She covers it, with a cough.

~~~

"Where had you been working, previously?" Noor questions, while taking a spoonful of Chinese noodles.

It is very difficult, for Noor, while trying to eat. She had to make sure, that, no part of her face was seen, by Fahad.

"I had been working in the Riyadh Arts Museum, as an event organizer."

"Impressive. You may have a thing for arts, then?"

"I do. Not painting, like Pablo Picasso, but, you know, just random stuff."

"Hmm..." She hums, in response, as Fahad looks at her.

His eyes have an enriching brown hue, which resembles chocolate, like the drink, on the table, beside her, she notices.

Break eye contact. Fahad's eyes don't want to.

Break eye contact. Noor's eyes don't want to. Yet, Noor breaks eye contact, because, well, She is the boss!

~~~

After paying the bill, Noor and Fahad take a stroll, around the premises.

Since, it is still summer, many people had on, revealing clothes. But, what could you expect? That was there culture. And, culture being quite diverse and unique, couldn't be changed.

The people in L.A. are quite friendly; only if you ignore the bald Mr. Carter, the grumpy door man and the people, stuck in the traffic.

The beeping horns, revive her back, to reality, as Fahad asks her, a question, "You like me?"

Huh?!


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