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“So that’s another no then, right?” Jameela interrupted. “You don’t have him at the scene. All you have is your client’s brother testifying that my client killed his brother when there is nothing, other than a stolen piece of cutlery connecting my client to the unfortunate death. I expect a little better from you Mr. Malinga, but until you have an actual charge for my client, I would suggest you get your story straight. Now, if there is nothing else, I would like to confer with my client. Excuse me,” she said as she rose, and Al-Hafeez did as well, and with such abruptness it was as if something had sprung him from the chair.
Jameela walked out with Al-Hafeez on her heels, and she never once stopped to look back at him or the accuser she had to pass on the way out. When she got to the car, she wasn’t expecting a conversation from the man, so she was surprised when she felt his hand on her elbow.
“Hold on,” he told her. She turned to face him and he sighed when she did. “I’m sorry I was such an idiot before. It’s just that I am not accustomed to being in a position such as this and…”
“Hold on a second,” Jameela said as she felt her phone vibrating. Her pulse quickened when she saw that it was Freya. She ignored the call and turned to Al-Hafeez with a smile. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” he told her, and his demeanor was the most docile she had ever seen him. “I was just thanking you for…for just now,” he said as he searched for words.
“It’s my job,” she told him and smiled. He smiled and nodded, and then stood back. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I will call my driver,” he told her.
“Okay, I will talk to you later then,” she replied and got into her car. She drove off and adjusted her rear view mirror as she did. When she looked back he was still standing at the bottom of the steps looking in her direction, and she felt her heart flutter. She quickly averted her eyes, as if he could catch her in the act, but she stole another glimpse just before the car turned the corner. She was undecided before, but now she was sure she would defend him against the vultures bearing down on him. She would just have to find another way to make him pay.
CHAPTER 5
The sun streaked in through the blinds in Jameela’s apartment, and made delicate patterns on her face. Her eyes fluttered as she began to feel the warmth penetrating her skin and she subconsciously noticed the room getting brighter. Her eyes cracked, and then as if electrocuted, she sprang from bed and looked at the clock. It read half past nine. Half past nine! Alarm bells went off in her head as she dashed to the bathroom. She was going to be late for work. She still had her mouth filled with foam from the toothpaste when her phone began to ring. That must be Ahmad calling to ask about her noticeable lateness. She tossed some water into her mouth, wiped it with the towel hanging from the hook on the door and raced to retrieve the device.
“Hello?” she asked into the mouthpiece.
“Why are you out of breath this early in the morning?” her friend Mansi asked.
“Mansi?” she asked. “I thought you were Ahmad.” It was only then that she stopped to breathe.
“Why would he be calling you on a Saturday?” she asked.
Oh that’s right. It was Saturday. Jameela fell back on the bed in relief, and she smiled as she realized she had some more time to sleep. “I thought this was a work day.”
“Girl, you work too much. What time should I come by you?” Mansi asked.
Jameela dug around in her mind for an answer to that question; clearly she had something planned with Mansi that she couldn’t remember at the moment. “Time?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Mansi wailed. “How do you ever defend anyone in court with a memory so poor as yours?”
“Maybe you should retain me, and then test my memory,” Jameela joked.
“Oh, so your memory only knows money. You should do well with that Sheikh Ramadan case then,” the girl said.
“Ugh, don’t remind me about that,” Jameela said and covered her face with the pillow to block some of the sunlight. “The man is truly detestable.”
“No matter,” Mansi replied. “It’s not like you were thinking about dating him.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and it was hard not to notice that Jameela hadn’t responded. “Oh my,” Mansi laughed. “You have thought about it.”
“N-No!” Jameela stuttered. “Yes he is handsome, but…why are we talking about my client? What time do you get here? I need to freshen up.”
Mansi was still laughing on the other end of the line. “I will be there in a half an hour.”
Jameela hung up the phone before the woman could find anything else to say. She hadn’t actively given Sheikh Al-Hafeez any thought, and she didn’t want to now. But all the while she showered and dug around in her closet for something to wear, she couldn’t deny his overwhelming impact on her senses and her memory. She had never known any man like him, the way he commanded attention even from those who would refuse to give it—such as herself. He was hard not to notice, and she now thought it in her best interest to get the case over with as soon as possible. Except that meant seeing the man more often. By the time Mansi arrived she was more than ready to go.
“Where are we going again?” she asked the woman as she hopped into the car.
“We planned this day so that we could go to the spa and just relax. Right now I think you need it more than when we set it up,” Mansi said and sank her foot on the accelerator.
“I would like to get there alive,” Jameela said as she clung to the seat. Mansi only laughed; she was always the one with the wild and reckless side.
“Relax,” she told Jameela. “So,” she began and looked over at Jameela suspiciously, “when can I meet him?”
“Him, who?” Jameela asked and absent mindedly combed her hair back.
