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Authors: Gus Leodas

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BOOK: A Sorority of Angels
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“Absent anything else, teasing can’t hurt.”

“Ali, I’ll do anything for you except have sex with another man. A former professional is one thing; in love with you another. Am I understood?”

“Why do you keep bringing it up? I don’t want you involved.”

“I hear you, but deep down you want me to.”

 

Defense Minister Fateh Kabani arrived on Monday as scheduled. The first week proved hectic. In addition to Ali’s itinerary, Kabani received numerous invitations to socials occupying all his evenings that week. By Monday, he suggested the coming week be less intense. On Monday night, he chose privacy to relax, to write reports. Tuesday was theater evening. Ali and Alise accompanied him. He enjoyed the theater and requested tickets for other shows. Wednesday night, they had tickets for Lincoln Center and New York Philharmonic. Ali scheduled a small gathering for Thursday, in Kabani’s suite at Royale Hanover on Park Avenue.

Constant entertainment and daily involvement maintaining and keeping ahead of Kabani’s schedule distracted Alise from her problem with Ali and the baby.

Alise felt the past two weeks brought Ali closer. Her cordiality towards Kabani pleased Ali. Kabani appeared delighted in her company. He grew fonder of Alise and told Ali. On Tuesday, Kabani and Ali had a long talk about Alise. After the conversation, Kabani paid more than cordial attention to her. Alise felt she was getting to know Kabani better and responded with gestures, squinting her eyes when he made her laugh, and the soft touches conveying an ‘I enjoy being with you’. Due to the busy schedule, Laura agreed to join them for dinner and theater when Kabani returned from Washington.

The gathering at Kabani’s suite on Thursday was a reception for sixteen Syrian embassy employees. Cocktails started at six o’clock and a buffet dinner at seven-thirty. The invitations read from six to nine. The last guest left at nine-thirty. Ali and Alise remained. Kabani looked pleased.

“Ali, this evening was an excellent idea and opportune to give my speech on how well they’re performing their duties. You were right. This is a better atmosphere as opposed to a cold conference room. Alise, you have a great boss.”

Alise smiled at Ali. “I agree with you. He’s an outstanding ambassador and why I work for him.”

“He’s lucky to have you. When you return to Syria, I am instituting first claim on you to work for me.”

“I may hold you to your word.”

“I want to make a toast.” Kabani filled three champagne glasses and passed one to each. “Here’s to Alise Diab, Syria’s first lady in America.”

“My goodness, thank you, I’m flattered.”

“As efficient as the ambassador is I’m certain things wouldn’t have gone as well for me without you.”

They drank the toast then discussed the party and guests for the next fifteen minutes. Ali bolted and searched for something.

“I have to go back to my office for a minute. The staff got together and brought you a present to commemorate your first visit to the United States. The evening wouldn’t be complete if I don’t get it.”

He headed for the door. Alise followed him. When out of Kabani’s hearing range Alise inquired, “What gift? I didn’t contribute anything.”

“I did for you. You were busy and out often I forgot to tell you, a plaque. Look, I’ll be fifteen, twenty minutes the most. In the meantime talk to him about his interests, something. I wouldn’t leave him alone except with you. Say nice comments about me. It’s opportune.”

“That’s easy.”

“Back as soon as possible.”

Ali left and closed the door. Kabani watched her graceful figure as she walked towards him and the sofa. She sat and crossed her legs, dress falling two inches above the knee.

“Ah, Alise, alone at last.” He laughed. Kabani was handsome, same size and age as Ali, with a moustache.

“Have you enjoyed your stay, Mr. Minister?”

“Yes, and accomplished a great deal. You added tremendously. Since Ali is unmarried, that makes you a first lady of sorts. We should have all beautiful women working in our embassies. They speak well of Syria.” He lifted his glass again. “Here’s to a beautiful Syrian lady.”

“So many compliments in one night, Mr. Minister, will spoil me.”

“We know each other for eleven days. Call me Fateh. After all, no one else is here. I’m sure Ali will approve if you called me Fateh.”

“Do you mind if I discuss a cause I’m involved with here at the UN, with UNICEF?”

“Please do.”

“It will be simpler if I showed you a piece of literature UNICEF is distributing around the world.”

She opened her purse and passed the literature to him. She watched as he read looking for impact signs. He winced a few times then passed it back.

“I wasn’t aware the problem was so extensive. About time the world did more to eradicate the scourge.”

She returned the piece to her purse. “What’s going on in this area is a tragedy. Hunger and starvation also exist in our homeland. Are you aware?”

“Yes. But I don’t know to what degree.”

“I’m uncertain of the percentage to population but it’s high. Is there anything you can do?”

“I don’t think so, far from my area of responsibility.”

“Do you know whose it is?”

“No.”

“That’s because our government doesn’t have an anti-hunger program.”

“Surprising.”

“I assure you the program is nonexistent. Do you know why?”

“No.”

“Syria’s money is going into defense spending. Most is pumped into military defense against an attack that will never happen.”

He sat up, surprised. “Alise, you don’t know what you’re saying. I’m the defense minister and it’s my duty to prepare our country from attack.”

“Israel will never attack Syria.”

“That’s an incredible statement. Tell me how you arrived at the intelligence.”

“Israel is not a warmongering state. Its posture is defensive.”

“I don’t agree with you.”

“If I’m getting personal, Fateh, please stop me. My intent is to have an open discussion and not to offend.”

“You won’t offend me by what you say. I don’t agree with you. Israel isn’t the only country we must defend against. I won’t explain tonight the defense posture or policies of our country.”

“I think I aggravated you.”

“You didn’t.”

“If our money wasn’t needed for defense more would be available to feed the starving and to improve living and educational standards.”

“Alise, continue to work with UNICEF. Do not attempt to understand the affairs of State of a great nation. We have much to do first. Our country has other economic matters plus civil strife matters, and sanctions added to the problem.”

“I understand a country cannot be great without a solid economy. If money keeps flowing into armaments instead of the economy, future growth and foreign investments are improbable. Look at North Korea, an economic disaster compared to South Korea.”

Kabani was impressed. “I can’t argue with that, but enough politics. Let’s have more champagne.” He poured two glasses. He then sat next to her. “Here you are. Here’s to you again and to Syria’s future guaranteed with defense spending.”

“I see you want the last word.”

“On this subject, yes.”

He lifted the phone. “I’m ordering another bottle of champagne. Excuse me.”

“I hope you’re not ordering for me. I had more than enough.”

“I’ll order anyway.” He placed the order.

Alise left for the bathroom. What more to say to Kabani? It was useless to talk about hunger. He defended defense, his status in life. Ali should walk in any minute to help with further conversation. She delayed returning for a few more minutes then returned.

“Alise, do you enjoy living here?”

“New York is nice. I share an apartment with a girlfriend from The Democratic Republic of The Congo. She returned home for a month on vacation.”

“Do you miss her?”

“When she left, you arrived. I haven’t had a chance to be lonely.” She offered a light laugh. Alise knew he wasn’t married but asked to maintain conversation. “Are you married? Do you have a family? Divorced? Single?”

“Single, single, single.”

“Why would such a handsome man be unmarried? You must have a dozen women after you.”

“There’s the problem. I love them all.” They laughed. “Have you ever been married, Alise?”

“Still holding out.”

“How come such a beautiful woman hasn’t been cornered yet?”

“Soon.”

“You have someone?”

“Back home. You don’t know him.”

“Then he’s a fool for not marrying you to keep you from coming here. How could he let you leave?”

“He’s a fool.” They laughed again.

“Alise, I want to know you better. Do you think your man in Syria will object?”

Ali had better get here fast.

“I’m certain he will.”

“Would he object to a dinner some evening?”

“He’s the jealous kind.”

“We’ll keep it a secret.”

“It will be my bad luck he’ll find out.”

“You have drawn me to you since the moment I first saw you.”

“Fateh, are you romancing me?” Someone knocked on the door.
Just in time.
“That must be Ali. I’ll get it.”

His words stopped her. “No, it isn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I know. That’s room service.”

She seemed skeptical, not knowing whether he was right or guessing. She opened the door; room service. She looked at Kabani. He smiled an I-told-you-so. Alise turned suspicious. The waiter opened the bottle, poured two glasses, and left. Kabani gulped the two glasses like water with a hungry expression about to have filet mignon. He leered at her with a smug look.

“I told you it wasn’t Ali. He’s not coming back.”

Perplexed, she asked, “Why?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She called Ali’s office number. No answer. Then she called his apartment dialing slowly, praying he wasn’t home. She refused to believe he abandoned her to Kabani. Did he want her to sleep with him?

The phone rang once, twice before answered.

“Hello.”

“Ali, this is Alise.”

He hung up. She cradled the receiver stunned and mortified. The hurt ran deep. She revised her posture then sat opposite Kabani. She had to escape this trap without offending him. Ali probably made some wild promises.

How could he?

How could he?

 

“Fateh, once again you are right. I didn’t know you would go to extremes.”

“I wanted to be alone with you ever since I saw you.”

“When you see Ali, thank him for accommodating. He had to rush to the office. That’s team work.”

“I will when I see him Monday. Tomorrow I’m going to Washington for the weekend, a change in plans. On Monday, I’ll extend my gratitude when he meets me at the airport.”

“I’ll see him tomorrow at the office and have a few words also.”

“Don’t be harsh on him.”

“I won’t be harsh at all. I’ll drink to your mutual scheme.”

“That’s right. Drink up and relax,” Kabani encouraged.

She drank the pain Ali inflicted along with the entire glass.

“I’ll have another.”

“Brava!” He filled the glass. “You’re pleased Ali and I pulled this maneuver?”

“Not entirely. I enjoy being alone with you. I suspect you both prefer we spend the night together. I become your playmate and Ali becomes your big hero. I love your company but I can’t sleep with you.”

“If you can’t sleep here then let’s have some fun, become better acquainted then you can leave if you wish. I’ll be spending more time in New York, as you know, and want to spend it with you. Tonight can be more than a ‘one-nighter’, so to speak. I am attracted to you.”

“I don’t want to offend you but a relationship between us is impossible.”

“Why?”

“As I mentioned, I have someone back home. I can love only one man at a time. When I return home and my lover no longer attracts me, I’ll happily call you for a rendezvous.”

“I see. That differs from what Ali told me.”

She reacted shocked Ali would tell him anything about her other than how well she did her work.

“What did he tell you?” She held her breath, waiting.

“He said you can love more than one man at a time.”

He must be bluffing!

“I’m sorry,” she said looking confused. “I don’t understand the game you two are playing. I wish you’d be straightforward instead of coy.”

“All right, I will. You’re playing cat and mouse with me in protecting your virtue, but Ali told me you used to work as a prostitute.”

Her mind spun and legs wobbled as nausea ran through her body. Hard as she tried to prevent them from happening, the weak force couldn’t stop tears from flooding her eyes.

Kabani knew he hurt her, his need more important. His posture lacked compassion or apology as he watched her cry. He thought it an act to defend her injured and false virtue, waited for her act to end. He was the defense minister of Syria, important, a man who could do her favors in the future. She’d be crazy to pass up the opportunity to sleep with him.

Alise entered her own terrible world, a demeaning ugly place without any future. Her Ali thoughts grew violent.

That bastard!

She sniffled hard. “That’s a life I’m trying to forget. I’m surprised and shocked he told you, and doesn’t mean I’ll go to bed with you.”

“I don’t understand why we can’t?”

She needed to strike back at Ali. “I’m pregnant.”

He looked at her body. “You don’t appear so.”

“Second month.”

“I’ll be damned. You cheated on your lover in Syria.”

“Ali is the father.”

“What? You’re joking.”

“Been his mistress for three years. We slipped one time.”

“Aha! No wonder you were hurt. Your lover set you up and you’re offended. Now I know why he brought you to this country.”

“He wanted his professional piece regularly.”

“I don’t blame him. I envy him, but he should be discreet in the future as an ambassador. Dumb decisions can damage Syria. Nothing is more important. It reflects on discipline.”

“Knowing, you still want to go to bed with me?”

“Of course.” He began removing his shirt. Alise watched in a clinical manner.

“You’re excited about screwing me?” she asked with sarcasm.

“I want to make love to you. The other word doesn’t sound romantic.”

“There’s no love between us. Is fuck better?”

The shirt came off then the T-shirt. He undid the belt and stepped away from the pants, then shoes and socks. He stopped at the shorts.

“Don’t stop there, go all the way.”

Hesitant, he removed the shorts and stood naked then approached her impatient to embrace.

“Stop.” He did. “Sit for a minute. We have business to discuss.”

“What business?” He sat.

If she had asked him to jump five times, he would have.

“I’m a pro, remember?”

“You want me to pay you?”

“There’s no other way unless you rape me, and I don’t advise that.”

“How much?”

“For you, I’m moderately expensive. A discount is limited because I’ll have a child to support. How much am I worth to you? You’ll get the full treatment.”

“One hundred dollars.”

“Don’t insult me. For a hundred you can get somebody off the streets.”

“What do I have to pay?”

“One thousand dollars, American. That’s discount down from two.”

When Kabani delayed, Alise headed for the door.

“Wait.” She stopped. He pulled the wallet from his pants and counted. “All I have is six hundred dollars.”

“Not enough.”

“That’s all I have.”

“I’ll make a deal with you. Tell Ali one thing and you won’t owe me the balance. If you don’t tell him, the four hundred is payable when you return from Washington. If you fail to pay me, the world will know about us. Further, I’ll throw in a bonus. Tell Ali this one item and you can have a night…no, a whole day in bed with me on your return next week. Deal?”

She made
the
offer he couldn’t refuse.

“Deal.”

“Give me the money.” She accepted the six hundred dollars and put them in her purse.

Undressing, she forced her mentality to evolve to her former profession, an entrepreneur, an actor. She exposed her breasts. She left the panties on. His eyes filled with her.

“I thought of one additional item. First, tell Ali you had to pay me. Ask him to reimburse you since he put you in this position.”

“I will do so.” His eyes roamed and lusted. He would’ve agreed to anything. “What’s the second item for Ali?”

“I have your word you’ll tell him?”

“You have my word on my honor. I want that day with you. I want you now.”

Alise sat next to him, kissed his cheek, and spoke to his ear.

“Tell Ali I told you that he’s my baby’s father.”

BOOK: A Sorority of Angels
9.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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