I Actually Married A Muslim!

1:Meetings, Greetings, & 1st Impressions

When I first saw her , I couldn't help thinking something along the lines of what in the world is someone like HER doing at a company like ours???

Little did I know that someone like HER would soon be taking over my life.

Hey! Don't get me wrong! She wasn't actually doing anything wrong . On the contrary, she was actually working diligently and smiling at everyone who catches her eyes.

Well, smiling at everyone but ME that is.

Later, I would learn that she refused to smile at me because I was a boy that she wasn't related to, she didn't know me at all. But at that time , it seemed quite weird.

I mean, I was still young. A successful, hot, handsome guy who just so happened to be single.

Just what didn't she like in me?

I'd walk into a restaurant and girls would gape at me, like their all-time favorite rockstar just walked in.

With her it was different. She wasn't swooning over me like all the girls who saw me did.

I'm guessing that's what drew me to her, eventually, after I saw past all the danger I thought she was.

Not to trail off the subject anymore, I thought she was dangerous simply because of her outfit choices.

Yes, me being the judgmental "Christian" that I was, I thought that she might be one of ... Them, if you get what I mean.

So I walked straight to her and told her exactly what I was thinking.

"Why in the name of God are you dressed like that? Are you perhaps carrying a bomb or something?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in genuine curiosity.

Instead of rolling her eyes at me, or raising her eyebrows, or giving me the finger, or doing anything that would show her disapproval , She laughed.

She laughed. Just like that.

Her laugh was so breathtakingly beautiful. It was a happy, bubbly laugh that seemed gentle yet fiercely joyful all at once. I instantly thought Jesus. This girl needs to be mine! Upon hearing it.

"No. I'm not carrying a bomb. And I'm dressed like this because I'm Muslim. And because I actually like it." She'd answered, with a calm smile.

"Oh really? Muslim? Where'd you come from then?" I'd asked.

"Umm from Sacramento, California ?"

I'd arched an eyebrow at her reply. "No. Like seriously where do you come from? Is it Saudi Arabia? Egypt? Syria? Where?"

This time, she really did roll her eyes. "Dude. I'm American. Born and raised. I've lived here my entire life. I know no other place than this."

"Wow. You just said dude guess that makes you American." I'd muttered under my breath.

"Come again?" She retorted.

"Nothing." I shrugged.

"Sir, you do know that I can report you for this right? I have HR on speed dial." She'd asked, cocking her head to the side and smiling a little.

"Names Adam. Nice meeting you Eve. Let's get along."

She burst out laughing. "That's so lame you know. My names not Eve, and I don't think I'll ever be your Eve, Adam."

"Well. I'm guessing I gotta get back to work. Good talk!" I'd stuck my hand out for her to shake.

She'd shook her head and smiled politely. "I'm sorry Adam, I don't shake hands with the other gender."