I'm a Busy Man, Habibi

He just looked at her for a second, confused. "Amunet?"

"Yes?"

"Just making sure it was you. For a second I worried your mother had crawled out of her grave." She giggled at him. "...I haven't seen you this happy in years. Something good happen?"

"No. But it will."

Her father then got a smile on his face. "Well I hope he appreciates the effort you put in." he ducked around the corner as she threw a pillow at him.

"Shut up!"

She finished getting ready and set up the shop.

She didn't see him once that day.

The 7th day

After seeing him for several days straight, the several days of not seeing him ticked her off. Especially now that she wanted to see him. To rub her seduction in his face, of course. Her fake seduction... of course.

Instead she had to deal with an influx of customers, keeping her busy for the last couple of days. Vacationers and regulars alike came to the cafe in near record numbers. Each came with a new story about the missing man. He helped one family with their child. He helped out around the house. He helped them with some something or other. To all of them, the man was a saint. And to put the cherry on top, each person said that when they offered to repay the man, he simply requested they get a meal at her cafe.

Quite frankly the cafe couldn't handle the rush. It had never truly been full, even when three people ran it. Now with just two of them, they were being overrun. The first day they had the most people in recent memory. The second day, they barely got through it.

That night, she prayed that God would send an angel to help them get through this profitable, yet tough time. Instead he sent a bastard.

On the third day, bright and early, he appeared at their door. And of course it was the day I decided to stop dressing up in favor of comfort.

Her father wearily opened the door. "My apologies but we are not open yet my friend."

"I'm not here for a meal." He pulled off his hat and rolled up his sleeves. She tried and failed not to stare at his toned and hairy forearms. "I'm here to help."

Her father simply hugged him tight. "You are the son I never had."

The man chuckled and clapped him on the back. "I get that a lot." Her father went into the back to start up the kitchen and left them alone. The man looked at her and reminded her how much she hated his face when he smiled. He opened his arms.

"What are you doing?"

"What? No hug?" She made a noise of disgust and went about setting up the shop. He called after her, "Not even a thank you?"

She hated to admit it, but his help was invaluable. Having another set of hands to wait tables removed major weight from her shoulders. And his skill at people-pleasing was top notch. He had such a way with words that not a single person complained when she told them of the long wait times or even messed up their orders slightly. It was like everyone in town was enthralled with him. Everyone except her. I saw right through him. I believed that everyone was blind to the shyster he was. Turns out I was the only blind one.

Present

Amunet poked Akila in her cheek, causing the infant to giggle. "Your great-grandfather helped me out a lot that day, Ya Amar." She wiped away a tear as her emotions got the better of her. "He's still helping me out now. Without that gawad I would have never met you." She looked into the innocent eyes of the child, basking in her happiness of just existing.

A month later, Morocco

Her father was so pleased with the man's performance that he hired him on the spot, even allowing him to stay with them and stop using the village's inn as a living space. Since then, the increase in customers had been permanent, albeit not to the same peaks. People would come in at all times of day to just chat with the man while getting a coffee. Many of his admirers included women, who Amunet watched him turn down one after the next.

Amunet had been, and still am, furious at her father for such impulsiveness. What good and decent father allows a strange man into his home when he has a daughter? But she knew the play. To her father he wasn't just some "strange man." He was a good man, a smart man, and a friend. And the man her father wanted her to be with.

Living with another person after it just being her father and her for so long came as a rude awakening for Amunet. She had always been "rough around the edges" according to her mother. As a child she loved to play in the dirt and rough with the boys. The only reason she stopped doing that was when she hit puberty and the boys started wanting to play different games. But she still maintained that roughness at home behind closed doors, usually dressing pretty light around the house and lazing around when not out doing something.

All of that changed the first day the man lived with them. She had gotten out of bed, her hair a mess and what little she wore somehow still looked disheveled. Still half asleep, she went to the bathroom and met him on her way out as he went in. That woke her up.

He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The smile said it all. When they bumped into each other, it appeared he wasn't completely awake either. But after a quick up and down of her body, the smile said all she needed to know. She shoved past him and hurried to her room, the first time in a decade she actually felt some sense of embarrassment in her body. He didn't even laugh it off, or any normal way to reduce the tension. Instead he just called after her, "Good morning, Amunet," and entered the bathroom.

From then on, she made sure she was proper as she wandered around her house. Years later she would realize that probably would have been a good way to complete her plan of seduction, but she was a young woman with pride and capable of shame.

The worst part about the man besides the smile and smug confidence was the lack of a name she could curse. He had been in the village for over a month and yet no one knew his name. He simply refused to give it, and the excuse he told everyone made her that much more infuriated. She had other women approaching her and begging her to just "be nice" to him.

His reason for hiding his name was a simple one and emphasized his interest in her. "The first person I met here was Amunet. It would be rude of me to introduce myself to anyone else before she accepts my introduction."

Out of sheer spite, she delayed the introduction for as long as she could. But that didn't mean she didn't interact with him. She kept up the plan in the cafe and on the shopping runs her father made her go on with him. I miss those lazy afternoons together. She batted her lashes. She smiled at him and laughed at his jokes. Everything one should do to show interest. Inside the house though, she limited contact with him as much as possible.

He kept asking her out, and she kept turning him down, subtle like. Instead of flat out denials, she alluded to the potential for her acceptance in the future. That she simply wasn't ready yet. Until one summer evening.

The two of them closed up shop together. One positive about him was that he was more competent than her father with numbers, making the tax and profit record keeping go by much faster each day, giving them more time to slack off. It was that fateful night when the stars aligned.

Around eight on that Friday evening, she got hungry and decided to go into the kitchen for a snack. It was then she saw him, sitting in the empty cafe, staring out of the glass into the village. He had a wine bottle and two glasses next to him. And he was smoking a cigarette.

For some reason she didn't feel the usual indignation at his mere existence then. Not even the usual self awareness she had when they were alone in the cafe. She was calm.

She approached him from behind and snatched the cigarette from his hand as he ashed it. After putting it out, she stood there, looking down at him as he looked up with that smile. And for whatever reason, to this day she would swear it was to keep up the plan but truly she didn't know, she smiled back.

She nodded to the bottle of wine. It was a good one. Her tone was playful. "I always knew you were a thief. Sneaking your way into my house just to steal a bottle of good wine."

He returned the banter. "Perhaps. That was my master plan all along. Increase your revenue so that I can steal the good stuff. But wine this good would be a shame to drink alone." He offered her the second glass from his seated position. "Care to be my accomplice?"

This is where she would normally tell him off. Where she would take the wine away or say something snarky and slightly inviting and lead him on further. Instead she took the glass and seated herself next to him instead of her usual across. She held out the glass and he gave her a generous pour, then matched it with his own glass.

She looked at her glass after taking a gulp, "Were you expecting me to come here?"

He didn't look at her, just kept staring out the window. "Not expecting. Simply hoping." He took a sip himself and flashed her a smile before turning back to the window. "And God answered my prayers."

Several minutes passed before she realized that while he was looking at the night's sky, she had been staring directly at him. She quickly went to looking out the window as well, but kept sneaking glances at him. He continued to smile, but something was off.

Then she understood. His smile was somehow different that night. It lacked the smug confidence and aura he usually projected. It seemed like a "real" smile. Like he was truly just enjoying being in her presence.

For the first time since they met, she initiated a conversation with the man that didn't involve an insult or telling him off.

9:30 pm, same night

They had a pleasant conversation as they finished the bottle. She didn't get angry at him once. She felt as if she was getting to know the real him, even if his answers to personal questions were still vague. It was a pleasant conversation about nothing. And then he asked her the question.

"Hey." She looked over at him. "You wanna go for a picnic?"

She was so caught up in having fun that she accepted without thinking. "Sure." He smiled back. The genuine one.

"Great." And then he stood.

"Where are you going?"

"The picnic."

"You meant now!?"

"Why not? No time like the present." Without another word he walked into the kitchen. She followed after him, picking up the glasses and bottle as she went. Together, they joked around as they made a simple meal and left the cafe. She let him lead the way to a hill, a good ways from town but it was worth it. It overlooked the town and the sea as well as offering a quality view of the stars. They sat under the lone tree at the top of the hill.

Amunet remembered that she originally went to the kitchen for food and happily scarfed down her portion of the meal before blushing at the man's laughter. As he ate his half, they talked more about nothing. She didn't even realize how close she was sitting to him. They were not touching but she could feel his body heat.

There was a lull in the conversation and they went back to how they were in the shop. She looked at him while he stared at the stars.

"Why do you stare at the sky so much when you have a pretty girl with you?"

He continued to look up as she responded, his face slack with an unfamiliar clarity. "I travel a lot. I've been all throughout the Mediterranean doing jobs..."

"Architecture, right?"

That jolted him out of his stupor for a second, as if her words reminded him. "Yeah. You know how it is, people all over want pretty houses." He went back to staring at the stars. "I've been to many places, seen many people and done many things. But sometimes I get homesick. That's why I like the stars. They are the same no matter where you are." Then a moment of silence. It was the realest thing he had said to her in all of the time she'd known him.

She ventured, "... And where is home?"

"Well, I don't really have a home to go back to. Not after..." he trailed off. "But I'm originally from Egypt. Cairo, actually."

"Always wanted to go to Cairo."

He didn't look at her. She didn't even think he was speaking to her, just responding out of reflex. "Maybe I'll take you there someday..."

A silence fell over the two of them for several minutes. He just kept looking at the sky. Kept looking... sad. She told herself she hated his confidence, but this something else entirely.

She reached over and placed her hand on his. He tensed slightly, returning to the present as he slowly looked at her.

"You... you uh. You have a home here."

A weak smile. Devoid of it's usual grandeur. "I thought you didn't want me around."

"I never said that. It just... took a while for you to grow on me."

They stared into each other's eyes for a long while. And then he started leaning closer.

That was the perfect time to enact the plan. But hindsight is twenty twenty. As his face got closer, the furthest thing from her mind was stopping the moment. Later, she would reflect and realize. Somehow he had won. She didn't know when, But all of the talks they had, all of the times she flirted with him, she realized she enjoyed them. Not because of the eventual payoff of hurting him later, but because she honestly enjoyed talking to him and eventually learned to enjoy his company, even despite the infuriating smile on his handsome face.

But right before their lips met, he stopped and pulled away. "Wait. wait. This is wrong." All the possibilities he could have meant flashed through her head. Was there something wrong with the place? Maybe his respect for her father wouldn't allow him to do this. But as usual, his real reason was simple and incredibly infuriating.

He stood from the blanket and pulled her to her feet. Then he took a step back and a deep breath. And then the smile returned. The usual one. He extended his hand.

"You still don't know my name, Amunet." She lost the energy to fight with him. All of the pent up emotion that he just paused to have this moment clashed with the hatred and left her no energy to argue. She just extended her hand and shook his. "Nice to meet you ma'am. I'm Asad Almasi."

The moment gone, or more accurately stolen from her by him, Amunet sighed and simply said, "Yeah, whate-" The moment was returned with interest when, using her hand to pull her in, and continued where he left off.

He leaned down and kissed her. The electrifying shock she felt was not tinged with as much anger as she had expected. Once again she had been dragged into his pace. Once again she was playing directly into his hand. Except this time, she was fine with it.

Present

"And after that, we went back to the house and-"

"Mother, please." Kesi pleaded. But Amunet was not deterred.

"Made love." Her child and grandchildren groaned at the thought. "Oh grow up." She looked to her daughter. "Kesi, last time I checked I wasn't a virgin named Maryam. You are the product of the love your father and I shared. Just like," she turned to her grandchildren, "you two are the product of your mother's love." She focused on the mother of the angel she held in her arms. "Shani, how exactly did this little one come to be?" Shani just looked away. "Exactly." Then she turned to Asad. "And yo-"

Asad interrupted her with a familiar smugness. "Jida, trust me. I know what you mean."

"Do you? If you had half the skill your grandfather had, you wouldn't have any problems keeping a woman." Shani snorted as she began howling on the ground in laughter at yet another attack on her brother. "Now, where was I?"

Despite saying that last line, she got distracted as she remembered that night.

10:15 pm that night, Morocco

The kiss was... stiffer than she thought it would be. All of the suave confidence in his actions did not transfer over to his lips, almost as if he was still concerned how she would react to it. His arms had pulled her close, but they didn't hold her, giving her the chance to pull away. She thought it was cute how his actions betrayed his true feelings.

Seeing and feeling him so unsure and afraid made her want to comfort him. She took it upon herself to press their bodies closer together. She reached up and pulled his head closer to deepen their kiss and she let out a low moan to let him know she enjoyed it.

His grip on her tightened then, though not as much as she'd like. He was still holding back for some reason. It's not like with a face like that he was a virgin. Amunet had to push him a little farther.

She pushed him down to the blanket they had set up, landing on top of him. She eagerly resumed their kiss to spur him into action. He returned the kiss enthusiastically but still did nothing anywhere else. His arms stayed to either side of him as they made out in the moonlight.

Taking matters into her own hands once more, she reached over and grabbed one of his wrists, moving it down to her waist as she now balanced on one arm above him. She then dropped her weight a bit so that she laid flat on him. The hand she placed on her waist started moving the way she wanted it to, caressing her side and grippin' her flesh beneath the fabric of her dress.

The hand began traveling down her leg and she tensed in anticipation, unconsciously lifting her hips towards the future contact. And then the hand was gone, the kiss ended, and once again he had left her wanting more.

His face lingered just out of her reach and she could feel his breath mixing with hers, the sourness of the wine entering her nostrils. He looked up at her, his eyes gazing at her the same way he looked at the night sky.

"We should stop-"

"Why?" Being blue balled twice had mixed in her anger with her arousal for the man. He was finally getting what he wanted and now he got cold feet?

"Because, I don't want to do it... like this. We're both drunk and... I just want to get this right, with you." His eyes expressed genuine concern for her. They simultaneously stoked the flames of her passion and the flames of her anger.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

His mouth moved before he could stop it, almost as if the response was hard wired. "Only the special ones." The second the words left his mouth he silently cursed himself. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. You-"

She silenced him with a simple action. She slid one hand between their bodies and palmed his hard on through his pants. "What happened to the man from the bus station, huh? The man who called me 'habibi' when he barely knew me?"

"That was before I figured out how wonderful you are." Another sentence that made her nethers clench in anticipation and her heart pound. She pulled him into a deeper and more frantic kiss.

She whispered into his ear. "I need you, now."

There was a shift in the mood as she could feel his inhibitions fading away. She prepared herself before once again he stopped. His breath was now as ragged and sensual as hers was. An improvement. "Not here."

"What do you -"

"Your father won't be back until the morning. We'll do it back at the house." His voice offered no rebuttal.

She knew this was another way for him to show her he cared but the annoyance of yet another delay in their union provoked her further. She couldn't help poking fun at him while they quickly packed up the picnic.

"Am I not good enough to be had in the dirt like other girls?" she asked as she folded the blanket

He quickly walked over to her and kissed her again, this time being the more active of the two. He looked at her seriously. "You are better than that. Than them. You deserve so much more." Another throb. Another pang of annoyance at the delay.