Page 53 of Queen of Barrakesch
“Yes. They’ve finalized some of the staff and managers for the oil rig, and I want to check out the office they have set up in the village on the coast.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I’m sure you’ll whip them into shape if the work isn’t up to standard,” Wasim murmured, sounding sleepy.
“I’ll do my best.” Imani smiled and snuggled deeper into his arms.
* * *
Wasim satcross-legged on the floor at the traditional Barrakeschi restaurant with Farouk and Akmal. It was Saturday night, and Akmal had rented out the entire restaurant and called the impromptu meeting because he complained that the three of them hadn’t spent any time together in a while.
Farouk had finally closed the Hilton deal, so celebrating was an additional good reason for them to get together. So far, their conversation had been the usual as they caught up in each other’s lives.
But out of the blue, Akmal said, “The old men are still not pleased that you married Imani.”
Wasim briefly eyed his brother across the table, and it dawned on him that this was the real reason he’d wanted to get together.
He knew about the concerns of the conservative faction of the Parliament. He’d heard the whispers from the beginning, that he was marrying an “outsider,” a coded word that meant Imani wasn’t Muslim. For those members, his decision to marry her was another example of his progressive ways, but they knew better than to make those comments to his face.
He’d never told Imani about the negative rumblings, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she was aware of their displeasure. Only because King Khalid had approved of their marriage before his death had the entire process gone so well and there hadn’t been any protests.
And what could they do now anyway? She and he were married, and she was part of this family.
He picked up a circle of grilled eggplant with a dollop oflabnehand olive oil on it. “The old men will soon be dead and replaced by younger men. Their opinions matter very little to me.”
“You’re not concerned at all?” Farouk asked.
“Why should I be? We’re married, and there’s nothing anyone outside of the two of us can do to change that.”
A look passed between both men.
“What does that look mean?” Wasim asked immediately.
Akmal smirked. “Are you in love with your wife?” He said the words as if they were an accusation.
Imani had seen marriage as a lifelong commitment to the person you love. Not a lifelong commitment to the person youmightfall in love with, and their differing views had certainly presented a challenge.
But Wasim had only recently come to admit his love for her, to himself. He hadn’t said a word to anyone else, and certainly not to her, yet. Their affection for each other had blossomed and grown, but that didn’t mean these intense emotions he now experienced were reciprocated.
He could even admit that getting her to marry him was more self-serving than he originally acknowledged. When he’d lost his father, he’d used that as an excuse to hold onto her. To hold onto her laughter, her unmatched beauty, and adventurous spirit. He’d needed her and losing her had presented itself as an obstacle to be overcome by any means necessary.
“And if I am?” he asked.
“I think it’s wonderful,” Akmal said. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
“Spoken like a man who would do anything for his wife,” Farouk added.
“And I would,” Wasim confirmed.
“How does she feel about you?”
He decided to be honest. “That, I don’t know, but I think she’s getting there. We’re happy, at least.”
“Well, look at us. Three happily married men. We should drink to that.” Akmal held up his Coke and Wasim and Farouk touched their glasses against his. “To our wives.”
“To our lives,” Farouk and Wasim repeated.
Then all three men laughed.
24
