“What is wrong with that?” I questioned, not angrily, yet not calmly.
He laughed. He actually laughed in my face. The instant he saw my displeased expression, he sobered up. “Err, forgive me. What I meant, was that a lady such as yourself, should not be intermingling at such an intimate level with basic staff. It is not becoming for a person of your stature.”
I was gripping onto my plate and fork so hard, I’m sure the metal would begin to bend soon. I took a deep breath, placing the plate with the fork back onto the table. Straightening up, I peered straight into Ibrahim's eyes as I spoke. “Let me get something straight here, Mr Zayed. That lady you just saw, is not a servant. She is an employee. An employee, who is respected and treated with honour and dignity in this household. How unbecoming of you, to walk in here with an air of superiority and put yourself, and me for which I did not ask, on a pedestal. If it is such an outrageous thing to merely know of your employee’s name in your eyes, then I am ashamed on your behalf. I am utterly disgusted, Mr Zayed. For that reason, I would appreciate it greatly if you would leave.”
To describe his expression as shocked, would be an understatement. His eyes were wide and his mouth was gaping open, like a fish drinking water. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for him to leave. I stood up and he instantly snapped out of it, getting to his feet with me.
“Sameena, truly, I never meant to offend you,-“
“Oh, but you did,” I interjected. “As soon as you walked through our door and looked at your surroundings with judgemental eyes, you offended me.” His mouth fell open again and I resisted the urge to laugh.
“Is there a problem here?” Ziad asked, coming to stand next to us. Pfft, where was he a few minutes ago when I really needed him?
“Not at all. Mr Zayed was just leaving now.” I sent him a tight-lipped smile.
“Ah, right. Thank you for your time and send my farewell to your father then.” He glanced at me nervously, as if I would snap at him again. Well of course he was nervous. Getting kicked out of the Prime Ministers house, by his own daughter at that, wouldn’t exactly go down well for him. I knew there were a bunch of paparazzi outside, waiting to pounce on him. No doubt, they’d begin to question why he had left after only being inside for thirty minutes.
Yes, thirty minutes.
The paps would be crushed they wouldn’t be getting a traditional love story from me.
We both proceeded to walk him to the door and I happily watched as the security guard shut our door behind him. Flashes could be seen before the door closed, mixed in with urgent yelling. Being all too familiar with their antics, I dismissed them. I shuddered dramatically and shook my hands and body out. “That was awful,” I groaned.
“What was it this time? Too stubborn? Too boring? Too ugly?” I looked over at my twin-brother with annoyance.
“Too pretentious,” I mumbled.
“I thought you loved pompousness in a man,” he retorted sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, it’s my favourite personality trait.”
Ziad chuckled. “Nah, but seriously, that dude was dry. I cracked one of my funniest jokes and he didn’t even laugh!” he exclaimed, speaking as if the man had committed mass murder.
“Oh! How rude of him!” I asserted seriously.
“I know right? Those jokes were created right here,” he tapped his head, “in a web of gold.”
YOU ARE READING
An Echoing Race.Spiritual
The last two years of Sameena Ahmad's life have been interesting, to say the least. Why? Maybe it was because she was the Prime Minister's daughter. Or maybe it's because that's when the suitors started knocking on her door. One after another, Samee...