Chapter Six

                                                       "Janaan"

 Janaan, when it came to defining her, Zayed grew afraid to not do justice to that woman’s disposition. One of the very few women of his acquaintance, with whom he was so close to. It’d been over three years since they've known each other and during this period it took Zayed no time to notice Janaan's different frame of mind.

The reason why they have become such good friends and why he has grown so fond of her was because they shared the same interests and opinions on almost everything. She lived life in her own terms and just like him, had some trouble fitting in any frame. The similarity of their background in an outlandish country brought them more closer.

And now, here she was, walking towards him with nice steps, wearing an upper smile that he was very familiar with. Zayed stood up to welcome her, trying to hide his surprise at her unexpected arrival and his annoyance at the unpleasant meeting that he just had.

 “Salaam Alaikum,” She greeted as he made his way towards her. He took in her appearance. Her posture was relaxed so much so that you could feel calmness positively radiating from her.

“Alaikum as Salaam, Hayach Allah (Welcome) Janaan.” Zayed extended a hand towards her as she came forward to shake it.

“Allah yehayeek,” she replied, smiling widely. “How are you?” He beckoned her to a seat and she took the one opposite him.

“To be honest,” Zayed said, settling down, “I am entranced,” He confessed, leaning back on his chair. He saw her forcing back a grin.

“I can see that,” She teased; her pail jade-green eyes watched him with delight. He didn’t like the effect her arrival had on him or that smile she wore.

A moment’s silence passed, in which she looked around his office and he at her. “So, how come you’re here?” He began, “You didn’t tell me you were coming.” He tried to say the last sentence with some disappointment because his family was the only people she knew here but she still didn’t inform him.

“I am here to surprise you,” She exclaimed.

“Knowing that I don’t like surprises?” He arched an eyebrow. She beamed seeing that he was in a good mood, but Janaan didn't know she was the reason for that sudden change in his manner. “But I think I like this one.” He paused to look at her, “How’d you know where to find me?”

“Well, I have my resources.” She uttered. Zayed knew very well where she was going with this one.

“Funny thing that I was just talking to your ‘resource’ and he didn’t say anything to me about this sudden encounter.” And that resource happened to be Badr, Zayed's uncle and Janaan’s brother in law.

“Oh good, now that assures me that I can trust my brother in law, when it comes to you.” Janaan said, playfully.

Zayed recalled the times when he had first met Janaan. He had gone to America for his studies and had been staying at his uncle, Badr’s place. Ever since Badr finished his studies there, he chose to live in America. Zayed never understood his love for that country.

Because of the short difference in their age, almost thirteen years you could say, Zayed happened to be very close to his uncle, who’d asked him to stay with him in the states so that they’ll start their own business but Zayed had refused mainly because nothing about that country had appealed to him.

“I think he owes you that much, after all you were the reason he found the one who charmed him enough to finally settle down.” It was through Janaan; Badr got to know her sister, Deemah. They got married last year, in Dubai, since Janaan and her sister didn't have any other family, except for their uncle who lived in Kuwait.

"I am happy to be the match maker!" She joked and then shaking her head she said on a serious note; "It was meant to be, I was just one excuse to bring both their faiths together." He nodded at that.

Silence lapsed in the room in which Janaan examined the office. Zayed had known her long enough to know what she was going to say next.

“Look at you,” She observed, throwing her hands up in the air, “In no time you became the director of such a huge company.” She said mischievously. His lips held back a smile. “How does it feel to boss everyone around?” She laughed; He liked the sound of that careless laughter, it reminded him of his careless youth. He shook his head at her selection of words, smiling as he did.

“Boss everyone around, huh? It’s funny how you put it that way.” He said, placing his long graceful hands on the arm chair. Her eyes swept him and Zayed glanced away. “There’s more to it than just that.” He notified. “It’s a huge responsibility.” he told her lowering his gaze. “Great expectations,” he carried on, looking at the table in front of him.

“Don’t doubt your skills, Mr. Zayed,” She gave him a crooked smile. “As a matter of fact, there’s more to you than you give yourself credit for.” That made him chuckle.

“I am not as brilliant as you think I am.”

“A great man is willing to be little.” She said in her scholarly tone. He knew that that was the writer inside her talking. “You are being nothing but modest.”

“You forget. I am anything but modest.” That was it for Janaan, one of the many reasons why she admired him so much. His modesty glorified him.

She stared at him, fascinated by the way he looked in the traditional Emirati clothes. He looked different, she thought, different but very good. She frowned, remembering something.

"Oh yeah, I brought you something. I saw this an the Airport and had heard a lot about it." Janaan reached in her bag and took out a book with a light green cover. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and when she turned to him, “A book?” He ridiculed. She smiled sheepishly.

"I thought you might like this. It's philosophy, exactly what you like." He watched as she scrawled something on the book and then handed it over to him.

'Picasso and Starbucks' was the books name. He looked it over. The cover was what attracted him, with the great painter, Picasso’s picture inside the Starbucks label. He flipped the pages and noticed interesting topics and when he was about to shut it, he saw a beautiful hand writing on the first page.

'From Janaan' were the words that were elegantly scripted there. He couldn't help but smile, a smile that made Janaan nervous but brightened her mood as well.

"Thanks a lot." He said, standing up, swiftly. “I am sure you’d like to have coffee. Won’t you?” He asked. She nodded and stood up, without wasting another minute. He let her walk ahead and noticed her long blonde hair falling on her shoulders as he followed.

“You’ve changed,” Zayed said firmly. She gave him a side-long glance.

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” He replied, leading her out the door. “First of all, you aren’t as intimidated by me as you used to be,” the corner of his mouth turned into a sly smile. Janaan rolled her eyes, and scoffed.

“Oh please. Don’t flatter yourself.” She jeered.

“See my point” He stated, as she laughed.

“What was the second one?”

“That you’ve lost some weight, haven’t you been eating well? Or is it the effect of the new book you are writing?” Badr had told Zayed that Janaan would be coming here to do some research on her new book, but Zayed hadn't expected her to come this soon.

Janaan smiled, cunningly; “Actually no. Ever since you left America I have lost my appetite.” He laughed at that, a warm, rich laughter. “That’s why I followed you here.”

“Sure you did,” He joked. As they headed to the restaurant in front of the building, Janaan told him that she was here to publish her first book. She had also joined the ‘Emirates literary group’ the sessions for which will be carrying on for two months and that’s how long she’ll be staying here.

On their way to his car, Zayed noticed something familiar, it was Hamad’s car. He was sure he had seen it that day on the yacht. Was he here to see him? If so, then why didn’t he call?

*❤*Hamad*❤*

It had been half an hour as I sat there in my car talking to her on the phone, to Mona. My love. But unfortunately we weren’t exactly talking; it was another one of our fights on the same topic.

“Hamad, Guess what? Some Arab came by at our house.” She began.

“Why’d they come?” I asked, concerned. I knew where this was going.

“Well, they came asking for my hand in marriage.” My fears came true. This had been happening a lot lately. A lot of people are going with proposals for Mona.

“So,” I tried to hide the sudden chill that swept over me; “What did you say?” I tried to utter.

“I said I’ll think about it.” Her reply made me frustrated. I have known her for so long and now she says she’ll think about someone else. I was silent for a while which she seemed to notice.

“Hamad.” I didn’t answer when she tried to get my attention. “Hamad.” She called again.

“Mona, listen to me. If you say ‘yes’ to this guy I swear I am going to kill you.” I don’t know why she was laughing when I was utterly serious. “Do you understand?” I bellowed. She still giggled avoiding me and my temper.

“I was kidding you possessive man. Just checking on how much you love me.” I took a deep breath of relief.

“And what answer did you get from my reaction.” I played along now.

“Exactly what I was expecting.” She sniggered again. “But you’ll have to make a move Hamad,” She complained. “If you really want me, you’ll have to come and ask for my hand. My dad won’t refuse you and Zayed wouldn’t either because you’re his best friend.” I shook my head at her lack of understanding. I was already tired from work, and had come home early to get some sleep.

“Mona Habibti (My love), I am not doing this on purpose. I have reasons. You know I have.” I retorted.

“How long are you going to wait for your sister? Huh? May be she would never get married. So, what will you do then, you’re gonna wait until forever?” She was almost yelling. I knew she had all rights to be angry. It’s been over a year we’ve known each other and talking on the phone, I had to make a move. But Mahra was the only reason that held me back. I had her responsibility on my hands.

“My sister is not the only reason here; I am waiting for you to finish your college.” I gave the conversation another direction.

“I’ll be graduating after one semester, and I don’t think your sister will get ready that soon.” She was right. Mahra hated the word marriage; it won’t be easy with her. But I can’t just get married and settle down when my younger sister is still at home. I am all she has.

“You’re the first woman I know who’s so impatient to get married,” I ridiculed, propping my elbow on the steering wheel and resting my chin on my hand.  A moments silence passed and I knew I had embarrassed her. Her cheeks have probably turned bright red by now, a sight I wouldn’t wanna miss.

“Hello, monoooo,” I played, knowing that she wasn’t going to reply.

“Ha?” It was barely a whisper.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I want it more than you can ever imagine.” I declared. I heard her giggle and my heart sank deeper in my chest. She was still silent and knowing that I could have that effect on her made excitement surge through me.

 I was ready to break the silence again when I heard another beep, someone else was calling me. I checked and grew nervous to see that it was Zayed. For a moment I was lost of words.

“Mona, Hayati( My life). I’ll call you later. Your brother is calling me now, Bye” I heard her gasp on the other end. She too grew anxious. I knew both of us were worried that we might get discovered. Even though I never really did anything unforgivable to her but this was wrong. And if Zayed knew, he would spend no time in slaughtering me. I didn’t wait for her reply and cut the phone.

The phone still rang but I didn’t reply, for what reason I don’t know. After three more beeps the call ended. I put my hands on my face and rubbed my eyes with my finger tips, to remove the fatigue from them. It was a hard life having all the responsibility being thrust upon you.

I heard my phone ring again and this time I had to reply, it was Zayed I couldn’t avoid him. I picked up my phone from my laps where I had just thrown it, plastering a smile on my face, I answered it. “Halla walla (Hello),” I greeted, brightly, opening the door as I heard his voice.

“Ya Ahlain Hamad, Long lives he who hears your voice. How are you?” I heard him ask with the same amount of enthusiasm which turned my smile into a real one.

“I am great, Alhamdulillah. What about you? How are you?”

“I am fine.”

“How’s your father?” I asked as I walked out of our garage. With a quick glance I noticed that my car was parked on the other side of the lawn; Mahra must be home. I looked for any scratches on my car and was grateful to see none.

“He’s fine and was asking about you yesterday.” I heard him say. It had been about three months now that I hadn’t seen him. Mahra was better than me. She got to see him every day, the man who stood by me when I needed help the most. He did stuff for me that no one but just the both of us knew.

“I am really sorry I couldn’t visit him lately. Work’s just been taking all my time.” I told him, ascending the stairs leading to the main door.

“Allah Ya‘eenak, Agool (May God be with you. Listen)”

“Hala (Yeah)”

“Did you come by at my office today?” I ceased my eyebrow at his words, “‘because I think I saw your car there.” He finished.

“I haven’t been anywhere with my car today, my sister had taken it with her.” I told him, waiting for his response.

“So what was she doing in my office?” He asked, confused. I thought about it and was surprised to come to this conclusion.

Snickering I said; “Don’t tell me you don’t know that she works in your company? Your father was the one who employed her there.” He didn’t speak for a while, which assured that he wasn’t aware of it.

“Yes, Yes of course.” were his words after a moment of silence. I realized I had stopped right in front of the door, so now I walked in, feeling fatigue spreading into my bones like an alarm. I sighed which Zayed seemed to hear.

“What is it?” I heard the obvious concern in his voice.

“I feel tired, works just been hectic today.”

“Yeah, I know. But I don’t think Rashid’s ready to let you go today with that excuse.” I narrowed my eyes as a smile made its way on my lips.

“What do mean?”

“He wants all of us to be there at their farm house.” He informed.

“Man, your cousin is a real pain. I came home early today so that I could rest a little.” I heard him laugh on the other end.

“I don’t think he’s going to let you do that. He made me make the call because he thinks you won’t say no to me.” And well, there he had a point. I could never turn down Zayed.

“When are they going?” I inquired, opening the door and stepping in the house.

“They are planning to have dinner there and as you know it’ll take us an hour to reach there so we must leave now.” was Zayed’s answer. I walked in the living room and saw Mahra sitting there all by herself. She looked lost in thoughts.

“Wait, Ya Akhee (Bro) I’ll inform my family and get ready.” I said.

Mahra heard my voice and looked up at me. She didn’t seem to be in a good mood. I put a hand on my phone’s speaker and asked her; “Where’s mom?” I didn’t get why that question made her angry. She got up like a hurricane, stomping her feet on the floor harder than necessary….she started shouting.

“What do I know?” She yelled in a stormy voice, looking daggers at me and I returned the glare because I knew my friend could hear her. “Whenever you come, all you do is ask where is mom, where is mom?” She repeated, turning away from me. “How the hell would I know where your ‘mommy’ is? It’s like I’ve got sensors or something.” She yelled some other things as she went up to her room, leaving me there, with my blood boiling. I wanted to smack her as hard as I could, that little shameless girl!

I was embarrassed to speak to Zayed now. What would he think? That the women in my family aren’t brought up well? The thought made me wrathful. I wish someone would just hand her over to me!

“Hey man, you guys can count me in; I’ll call you when I leave.” I said trying to hide the embarrassment. He acted as if he hadn’t heard anything.

“Yeah, sure. Send my regards to your mother.”

“I will.” And the instant I disconnected the phone, I ran up to her room. How dare her do such a thing. She doesn’t know who she’s dealing with. When father was alive she could act all spoiled but with me, there’s no chance. I won’t handle her imprudence.

Taking two steps from the stairs, I darted up to her room and dashed in there without bothering to knock. All I wanted right now was to give her the finest lesson to never dare repeat that idiotic act of hers again.

“Mahra! Ya Haywana. (You fool)” I bellowed walking towards her. She sat there on the bed facing the windows with her back to me. “You shameless girl! Didn’t you see I was on the phone? The man heard you, what he is he gonna think of me now.” I walked around her bed to face her. She had her head bowed, her black tangled hair curtaining her face. “Look at me when I am talking to you.” Her ignorance annoyed me even further. “Mahra.” I demanded her attention.

This time she looked up and threw her head back in the air, “What?” she yelled back, but seeing the tears on her red face made the words die on my lips. A deep frown made its way on my face. I hadn’t seen her cry since father passed away. I have tried my level best to keep those tears as far away from her as possible.

“What happened?” I questioned, looking closely at her, Mahra tried not to look into my eyes, forcing me to place my hand on her chin and make her look at me as softly as I could. Something must be wrong because Mahra doesn’t cry this easily, not when I chastise her.

“I am sorry for yelling at you.” I said, removing a tear from her cheek. “Is that why you’re crying?” I mocked. She slapped my hand, clearly not wanting me anywhere near her.

I tried to force back a grin and couldn’t help but smile at her. She has been spoiled all her life no one’s ever said anything to her. Something huge must have happened to leave such an effect.

I sat down on the floor in front of her, kneeling on my lower legs. She still didn’t look at me, I waited for when she would speak up and looked around her room. Her Abaya and Shailah both were thrown on the bed like the person wearing them couldn’t wait to throw them away. She must have taken all her rage out on them.  Some of her paintings and photographs hung on the wall in front of me, next to which a clock was ticking, reminding me that I was getting late.

I turned back to her and saw her cleaning up her tears with the back of her hand. “Alright, tell me what’s wrong?” after a few seconds I heard her sob, that stung me. I sighed and got up, slouching back on her bed I placed a hand across her shoulders and pulled her in, to my surprise that didn’t help and she cried harder now. I tried to utter some soothing words and then, finally, she murmured something.

“They didn’t choose me.” She said between sobs. It took me a minute to realize what she meant and when I knew what she was talking about; “Well, they made a mistake.” I told her stroking her hair. To be honest I wanted to laugh at her, I didn’t expect her to take this job so seriously.

She pulled away and sighed, then turned to look at me. Her brown eyes surveyed me and something tightened in my chest. “They all said they’ll be choosing me, even Mr. Waleed.” There were tear drops on her long eyelashes, warning to fall any second. “It would’ve been me, if only that idiotic new boss of ours had stayed where he came from.” She sniffed. I tried not to smile because if I did Mahra would kill me. It’s not every day she opens up with her personal life. But could you blame me? It is my best friend she is scolding!

“Did they give you any reasons?” I asked. She grimaced.

“He said something about me not being qualified enough,” she exaggerated, using a louder tone; “Saying that I have potential, if so then why the heck he didn’t choose me?” then she cursed him. And that was it for me; I couldn’t take her abusing Zayed right in front of me. Being my sister doesn’t mean I’ll let her curse him. But then again it's Mahra we’re talking about. She grows older but she’ll still remain a child.

“So, are you gonna cry all day like any other girl?” I asked her, I knew that was her weakness point. She thought she was different, not like any other girl, and sometimes I felt like it is true.

“Like I care about that American wanna-be prince charming or his decisions. I won’t shed one more tear for him.” She made that decision.

I put my hand across her shoulder and whispered; “That’s what I was talking about. The only day I would like you to cry would be your wedding day.” I teased, knowing her up-coming reaction. She hit me on my chest with her fist making me chuckle.

“In your dreams am I going to get married.”

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*❤*It was nice growing up with someone like you - someone to lean on, someone to count on... someone to tell on!*❤*

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Sorry for being so late, here's the new chp. Hope u all like it in the writers POV and Hamad's:) The writers POV is something new, we wanted 2 try something else. Tell us what u think:)

Thx to all those who voted or commented or even secretly read our story. it means a LOT.

~Lot's of Love

~Witty and Witch.