Jane’s alarm chimed at daybreak.
She slipped out of her husband’s warm embrace and turned off the sound.
Mahsood remained motionless. He slept on his stomach, his limbs spread out. The blanket tangled around his legs and buttocks, exposing his chiseled dorsal muscles.
Jane reached for the corner of the duvet and halted. Better not disturb him. Early rises and late nights had pushed him to the limit. Even his never-tired, superman body had crashed from this insane routine. She tiptoed past him to the bathroom.
After putting herself in order, Jane crept out of the room and headed for the staircase. Due to the failure of the Henderson project, a calm week awaited her—a perfect opportunity to practice breakfast-making skills. Not difficult for her, and meaningful to her husband. She smiled as she stole down the hallway.
The ringing of her cell cut through the sleepy stillness of the mansion.
Dang. She grabbed at the back pocket of her jeans. Only one person would bug her at this hour.
She cleared her throat. “Hello, Tom.”
“Hi, Jane. Glad to hear my best employee is up. Spending your mornings in a productive way, no doubt,…unlike some people.”
Another jab at Rachel. Tom couldn’t accept that his secretary refused to rise at dawn and rush across the State on his first demand. Later, she’d say she’d slept and hadn’t heard her phone. And for that reason, Rachel had zero chance of promotion. Davis required his subordinates to commit body and soul at all hours. Jane sighed.
“What’s the new assignment?” she asked.
A call from her boss could mean one thing—he had a job for her. And how had he managed to sign a client over the weekend? On Friday, not a single dollar loomed on the horizon.
“He-he. Straight to the point. I like that.” Tom coughed. “For once, my useless secretary earned us some green. The two years I’ve frittered with her didn’t go to complete waste. In short, Rachel dug up a client. Nothing complicated, a tax inspection. I won’t send the whole team. Take Mike and Benson—the three of you’ll manage in a week. Head there now. I’ll text the address.” He hung up.
As usual, Tom hadn’t bothered to explain in detail. Time was money, and she’d catch up along the way. She always did.
Her phone beeped, and the incoming message popped up on the screen.
Jane stared at the text and blinked.
She’d seen this address before. She clicked on it, opening the navigation app.
Of course. Uncle Gafar’s gas station. He’d received the IRS letter on Saturday, and Awad, probably, buzzed Rachel, who’d sent them to Tom. The Khans had done well to reach out to the professionals, but did they want to hire her? Or, maybe they didn't realize who was coming to aid them. Urgh. Uncle Gafar would bite his elbows once he’d realized he’d hired his own niece-in-law.
Jane shuffled from foot to foot, gripped the handrail that edged the second-floor landing, and exhaled. Be what it may, she had to go to work. Samira and Rafa would deal with breakfast, and she must do the audit, whether welcomed by the Khans or not. She turned on her heels and marched to the bedroom.
Inside, Mahsood faced the closet as he pulled on a bottle-green silk coat. He glanced over his shoulder.
“Where’re you off to?” His gaze slid over her short-sleeved shirt and her bare arms.
Jane bit her lip. He’d find out soon enough and would, certainly, object. Fighting about it now would delay her.
“I wanted to cook but…my boss called,” she said.
Mahsood winced. He buttoned his overcoat and moved to her. “Excuse me.”
She stepped aside, and he passed into the hallway.
Well, hello to you too, Mr. Grumpy. She shook her head as she walked into the closet.
Jane changed into her favorite burgundy suit and applied a touch of mascara, then went downstairs. She sneaked past the dining room and the kitchen and slipped out of the house through the garage. She wasn’t in the mood for cold leftovers, so she dropped by Starbucks and grabbed an Americano with a croissant, which she ate as she drove to the location.
Jane guided her car across the bumpy parking lot of Uncle Gafar’s gas station and stopped next to Mike’s red Kia.
A familiar Lexus stood in front of the one-story building.
The Khans had arrived. Good. Made no sense to be here before them.
Mike emerged from his vehicle and circled around to hers.
Jane got out and waved. “Hi! Benson here?”
“He carpooled with me. You know, to reduce the greenhouse effect.” Mike chuckled.
A redheaded, freckled young guy trailed after him.
Benson looked around. “Where did Tom find this company? I hope no crime this time, but I doubt. He plugs every hole with us just to earn a few bucks.”
Jane grimaced. Grumbling like a grandpa again. He’d been in this job for what, a year?
“Ready, guys?” Mike asked.
She nodded, and with firm steps proceeded toward the entrance.
***
Mahsood sat at his desk and scrolled through emails.
Awad clicked his mouse, his other hand drumming on the wooden surface of the table.
Gafar tayaa paced in front of the storage cabinets.
“Tom said they would come early.” Tayaa glanced at the mobile he clenched in his hand.
Awad’s left eye twitched. “It’s only eight-thirty, Father. Sit. Think of your health.”
Mahsood took a deep breath. They were waiting for the expert recommended by Rachel’s in-charge. After receiving the googly from the tax service, Gafar tayaa had panicked, and Awad had called his lady friend for help.
Mahsood had opposed involving a woman in their problems—how humiliating and not fit for a man. But, as the youngest in the family, he had little say. Gafar tayaa listened to Awad and trusted Tom. Inshallah, this expert wasn’t some four-twenty because tayaa had paid a small fortune for his services. Stroking his chin, Mahsood returned his attention to the email from Father.
As-salam-alaikum beta,
Mashallah, I found a buyer for the land, and he offered a high price. Find an investment. Don’t time-waste. Ma'a salama.
Great news. Father would send the funds soon, and he hadn’t mentioned Yasmine either. He must’ve settled the issue with Kasim. Mahsood rubbed his hands. He’d use part of the money to buy a house, and then, Allah willing, he’d persuade houri to leave her pay masters. A new home would keep her busy. He smiled as he typed a response.
Footsteps resounded in the passage leading from the store to the office.
Mahsood raised his eyes. Should be Tom’s analyst. At last. Tayaa had taken enough tension.
A knock. The door opened.
He froze.
On the threshold stood his wife, and behind her lingered two unfamiliar males. Her luscious hair fell beneath her shoulders, barely a half meter from the strangers’ presence. Her floral scent must’ve hung around them, luring them to come closer, to caress her soft skin, delicate neck, and…
Mahsood clenched his fists and sucked in the air. She’d better have a sound reason for being here and in such company.
As she enteredthe room, houri’s glance slid over Awad and himself and rested on Gafar tayaa.
She raised her chin. “Good morning, Mr. Khan.”
Gafar tayaa nodded.
“Tom sent us for an audit. This is Mike and Benson. They’ll assist.”
Mahsood blinked. Will assist? Her?
Gafar tayaa gaped. “You…the person Tom spoke of?”
Hands on her hips, houri stared at him. “Yes, I am the lead on this assignment. Please provide a copy of your return, records of income and expenses, and anything else relevant.” Enunciating each word, her voice cut through the buzzing of the adjacent convenience store.
The men at her heels straightened up and squared their shoulders.
Gafar tayaa bobbed his head. “Of course, of course.” He jerked and hastened to the metal cabinet. Rummaging through it, he dumped its entire content onto the floor and raked through the heap.
“We’ll need a workspace.” Jane gestured toward Awad’s desk. “This will do. Guys, you can spread out on the couch.”
His cousin-brother picked up from his chair and moved to stand behind Mahsood.
“Did you know?” Awad whispered.
“No.”
She hadn’t told him. As if he wasn’t her husband. She hadn’t even acknowledged she knew him. Mahsood huffed.
Mike and Benson laid their laptops on the coffee table.
Jane walked to the pile of documents. Squatting next to it, she shifted papers, fished out a few pages, and smoothed them on her lap.
“Benson, try organizing these by date. Mike, review the receipts. I’ll read the return.” She rose to her feet. “Mr. Khan, you can take a break for a couple of days. If we require anything else, we’ll get in touch.”
“Thank you, thank you.” Gafar tayaa ducked and, tiptoeing around the ruffled papers, fled the office.
Awad rubbed his neck. “I guess I should go too.” Grabbing his keys, he set for the exit.
Mahsood frowned. She must’ve expected him to walk out with them. Forget it. He wasn’t leaving her with these men. He pivoted in his chair and faced his computer.
“I’ll stay.”
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