‘We’re up shit’s creek. The massage therapist’s broken her arm!’ wailed Cassie.
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah, fell off her bike cycling to work this morning,’ she exclaimed, still irate. ‘The thing is, we’re fully booked this week. I’ve managed to postpone all of today’s appointments, but—’
‘You want me to take over,’ Adira finished for her.
‘Well… yeah, if that’s not too much trouble…’ Cassie trailed off desperately. ‘I’ll pay you double,’ she added hopefully.
‘I’ve only just got here.’ There was a distinct whine in Adira’s voice, but deep down she knew that Cassie wouldn’t be calling her unless it was an emergency, which this definitely counted as.
‘I know. I’m sorry, but we’re desperate.’ Adira could hear the anxiety in Cassie’s voice and couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. The thought of returning to Lilacwell so early didn’t faze her, though. If she was completely honest, it almost came as a relief.
‘I’ll pay you treble,’ Cassie begged.
‘Stop,’ laughed Adira. ‘You don’t have to pay me double either, I’ll come back.’
‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’ she gushed.
‘But cancel tomorrow morning’s appointments. I’ll want a lie-in from driving. I’ll be there in the afternoon.’
‘I will, and thank you so much! You’re an angel.’
‘I am,’ smiled Adira.
‘Bye!’ Cassie made kissing noises down the phone.
‘Bye,’ said Adira, shaking her head in amusement.
So, back to Lilacwell. Was she destined to be there?
Jasper was on his balcony watching the evening sky turn a dark violet. He was contemplating his dinner with Zara, though how he would manage to eat sat opposite her he didn’t know. He was still seething with rage at her audacity. He felt his inside jacket pocket; yes, it was safely there. After checking his watch, he collected his car keys – it was time.
As Jasper pulled up outside her home, he admired the massive, white, flat-roofed villa. It was surrounded by palm trees and greenery, which was unusual for Dubai. Many of the houses just had sun-burned lawns, or decking with pools. Various windows were lit up dimly, but when his gaze turned upwards, towards what were clearly bedroom balcony doors on the top floor, he could make out a silhouette. It was Zara, preening herself in front of a full-length mirror. His eyes narrowed. Would she be taking so much trouble over her appearance if she knew what was in store? He inhaled. He had to remain composed.
Walking up the path, he was again taken by the burst of colourful plants. Sprinklers were installed, which evidently kept all the flowers and shrubbery fresh. Most of the gardens he’d seen were usually sparse and dry from the searing heat.
The door opened before he had chance to knock. Zara’s father stood at the entrance looking directly at him.
‘Evening, Arun,’ greeted Jasper, looking him in the eye. He got the distinct impression that the man was almost warning him.
‘Hello, Jasper. I expect Zara to return by midnight,’ Arun stated matter of fact, still staring unflinchingly at him.
‘Of course,’ nodded Jasper. Earlier, he thought, if all went to plan.
Zara appeared behind her father looking rather self-satisfied. Arun stepped aside and after a quick warning glance at the pair of them closed the door.
‘Don’t mind him,’ giggled Zara, ‘he’s always been very protective of me.’ She gave a sweet smile. Jasper resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
After telling him the restaurant where she had reserved a table, Jasper realised it was in fact very near to his apartment.
‘Apparently their seafood comes highly recommended,’ Zara said, flicking her freshly washed hair over a shoulder. She was wearing a long, burgundy dress with diamanté beads sewn into it. It had a sweetheart neckline and soft folds which tapered in at the waist. Gold, strapped sandals and a gold clutch bag completed the outfit, and as always she was decked in heavy, gold jewellery. Jasper thought she looked gaudy, way too overdone for a simple evening meal. She also had that bloody awful potent perfume on, which made his eyes water. He resented the fact his car would reek of it for days.
They were soon parked up and entering the restaurant. To her credit, Zara had chosen well – its mellow lighting and private booths lit with candles created an intimate atmosphere. Good, thought Jasper, glad of the privacy. The last thing he wanted was an audience.
They were shown to a small table situated in a secluded alcove and Zara looked like the cat who got the cream, such was her smugness as she smoothly sat down opposite Jasper and rearranged her hair – again. Already she was grating on his nerves.
The waiter handed them each a menu. Jasper swiftly scoured it.
