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“What? You expect me to ignore your needs in favor of strangers.”
“I’m sure there are perfectly competent O.B.s in Zohra.” Though a small part of her was more than a little relieved she wouldn’t be changing doctors.
“It is best to maintain continuity of care.”
“She passed your background checks, then?” Angele couldn’t help teasing.
She had no doubts that if Zahir had not considered Dr. Shirley the best of the best, no generous remuneration would have been offered.
“She is without equal.”
“Did she accept your offer?”
“She did. She will travel with us to Zohra and then, barring any unforeseen complications, return monthly until your seventh month, at which time she will make her temporary home in the palace for the remaining duration of your pregnancy.”
“You promise you did nothing to force her decision?”
“Such as?”
“Such as having the White House call her…again. Or her congressman or anything like that at all.”
“I did not.”
Angele nodded. As long as the choice had been Dr. Shirley’s, Angele wasn’t about to complain about something she wanted. “Any decaffeinated coffee on hand?”
“Naturally.” Zahir poured her a cup from the carafe on the counter rather than the one on the table.
Dr. bin Habib bowed slightly. “I will remove to the living room while the princess partakes of her breakfast.”
Angele didn’t bother to argue that she wasn’t actually in fact a princess. Yet. Instead she said, “I won’t be long. I don’t eat much in the mornings right now.”
“I am sure you will find the nutritionally balanced menu to your liking,” Zahir interjected.
She refrained from rolling her eyes and gave him a tight smile. “I’ll do my best.”
But she wasn’t going to risk the debilitating nausea returning by eating too much, or something that might trigger it—no matter how good it was for her.
Zahir pulled out her chair and she sat down with a quiet, “Thank you,” as the older doctor left the room.
Breakfast was, in fact both palatable and not overwhelming. Zahir kept the conversation light while she ate, waiting until she was finished to broach the subject of the wedding again. “I have arranged a conference call with our mothers and the queen of Jawhar, as well as the event coordinator for the royal palace.”
Angele bit her tongue on the slightly sarcastic retort that first popped into her mind and said, “Great. What time?”
“Eleven this morning.”
“Won’t the event coordinator have gone home for the day at that point?”
“He will make himself available.”
She supposed that for a man who considered himself on call to his position 24/7, asking an employee to stay late of an evening did not seem like an unreasonable request. “Okay. Mom will be over in about an hour.”
She’d called her parents the night before, after getting the shot of Vitamin B6 and before taking the safe-for-pregnancy sleeping pill. Lou-Belia had been uncharacteristically calm when faced with the news of impending grandparenthood and the upcoming royal wedding. She’d agreed to come over in the morning, suggesting Angele get a good night’s rest.
Angele couldn’t help thinking that Zahir had somehow managed to contact her parents ahead of time and apprise them of his wishes to encourage her to get more sleep.
“Is your father coming also?”
“He is.”
