Page 14 of Hired Husband

“Excellent.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s killing me, being alone with all these men. I need backup.”

I laughed. “Call Ashanti and ask her to bring Amari for breakfast too.”

My oldest brother, Khaled, and his wife, Ashanti, lived in the same gated estate as my parents, which meant that Ashanti could easily grab her eight-year-old daughter to go save my mom from drowning in testosterone.

“I’ve already tried,” she lamented playfully. “They’re on their way to yet another children’s party. I’ve never known kids who have so many friends.”

She said the last part proudly, as if her first—and so far only—grandchild was somehow braving a whole new world by being sociable. In response, I almost asked her if she’d met herself, or any of the rest of us for that matter, but in the end, I just kept smiling and slid my feet into my pumps beside the door.

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll be there soon.”

“Hurry,” she stage-whispered, then started scolding somebody in rapid Arabic before she hung up.

I chuckled as I left my apartment, locking up before going to meet my driver in the parking garage downstairs. “Good morning, Rashid. We’re going to the estate first.”

He gave me a curt nod. “You got it, Ms. Saad. Double-time?”

“Always.”

He pulled the door open to the backseat. I climbed in and relaxed against the buttery soft leather, knowing he’d get me there as fast as humanly possible.

He navigated Cairo’s busy streets with effortless ease, never tensing up or letting people cutting him off get to him. Because of that, we arrived at the Saad compound in no time. The gates swung open to admit us entry to the long drive.

Warm stone glowed under the morning sun as we snaked our way up toward the front doors. Gardens dotted with fountains stretched out on either side. Mom met me at the door, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Finally! I thought you were never going to get here.”

I laughed. “It’s been twenty-something minutes.”

“Exactly. You took forever.” She kissed both my cheeks and linked her arm through mine. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my boys, but I do so miss my girls.”

I leaned my head against her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’re still here, and some of us are starving.”

She stiffened at my side. “Never let Nanna hear you say that. She will either move in with you to make sure you’re eating or she’ll pack up all your things herself and move you right back here.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.”

My paternal grandmother—Nanna—was not to be trifled with. It was also advisable not to mention food or being hungry around her unless you were ready to face the consequences, which was being fed until it felt like you were about to explode.

As I thought about her, I smiled and followed my mom to a shaded terrace overlooking the gardens where the breakfast table had already been set up. Fresh fruit was laid out with warm breads, dips, spreads, eggs, and tea.

I let out a contented sigh. “This looks amazing. Maybe I should poach Nancy to come cook for me.”

Mom gasped and reached out to give my shoulder a teasing smack. “Don’t you dare. If we lose her as a cook, there will be an uprising.”

I laughed. “Complete mutiny, I’m sure.”

She winked. “Absolutely.”

As I sat down, she fixed us each a cup of tea and handed mine over before taking the seat across from mine. “How’s the campaign going?”

“The final textile shoot is today.”

“Ah. Wonderful,” she said, smiling as she pushed a plate of fruit toward me. “Eat. It’ll be a busy day for you.”

“I’m counting on it, but it’s been a great shoot so far, so I really don’t mind. I loved that we used some historic locations on this one.”

I speared some fruit onto my fork and popped it into my mouth, then reached for a bread roll and broke it open on my plate. Mom watched me closely, only leaning back once she was satisfied that I was eating properly.