Tasneem Uddin
"Please come to my wedding, Tasneem," begged my close friend, Amira, over the phone.
Amira was getting married in a few weeks. We had been friends since high school. Amira was of Bengali descent as well, which is why our parents were so close. I used to be in the same neighborhood as Amira until she moved away for college. At times, I would begin to miss our friendship. I didn't move away.
I would hear all these stories of college outside of this small town, yet I could never bring myself to leave the very people who raised me.
I leaned against the counter. "Relax, I will," I said, noticing that the café was empty as usual.
"Great! I need you to be my make up artist."
"Fine," I sighed. The phone pressed to my ear with my shoulder as I ran through the inventory for supplies. "Anything for my friend."
"Awesome!" she exclaimed, excitedly. I heard something crash in the background and some yelling. "I gotta go. Assalamualaikum!"
Then she hung up.
I placed my cellphone in the pocket of my jeans. It was extremely hot outside, given the fact that it was the beginning of summer. The sun shined through our glasses. My parents were off to stock up on supplies, so I was watching over the café. Business was slow today. Perhaps no one wanted to step outside in this heat. I stared at the clock after making my inventory list. It was only the middle of the day, past Dhuhr (midday) prayer.
Ring Ring.
My head jerked up to see a group of teenage girls. They were dressed in white shorts and tank tops, the complete opposite of my jean covered legs and pink button-up. My apron for the café was tied around my hip and fell close to my knees. I mustered up a smile as I greeted them.
"Welcome to Sweet Paradise Café! How may I assist you today?" I smiled as they walked towards the counter.
The blonde girl in the group scanned the diner. "Sure is empty here," she observed.
"It's a pretty hot day," I replied, keeping the smile still intact.
"We'll take three lattes," she ordered as she pulled out her wallet.
She paid me about twelve dollars, and turned back to her friends as I readied her change.
"Can you believe how hot he is? He's a Muslim too!" the brunette with curly hair whispered to the blonde.
"Here's your change," I said.
I turned around to prepare their drinks. The girls were giggling and gossiping about Allah knows who. There weren't that many rich guys around here unless you went downtown where the cities were. Usually, I only went there to go to the movies with Amira. The thought of her saddened me.
She was getting married soon, and probably won't be moving back here. My heart hurt thinking about my best friend being separated from me for even longer. When we were kids we'd always make jokes about never getting married, yet there she was with a ring on her finger.
I was a quiet person, who kept to myself. Amira had been there for me when I couldn't bring myself to talk to others. She was the one who pushed me into the real world. We shared so many smiles, laughter, sadness, and fears throughout the years. She stuck by me through everything, even now she still managed to make time to call me.
Distance really does strengthen love, I thought to myself.
The wave of nostalgia filled me as I remembered how we used to hang out in this café before college. I missed my best friend. I wasn't ready for her to get married, but the man she was marrying made her happy. If he didn't I would have to kill him.
As I finished making their lattes, the bell rang again, signaling that someone new had entered. The girls had hushed their voices and instead new masculine voices filled the silence. I turned around placing the lattes on the counter. The girls were too busy gawking at the men in fancy suits to realize that their orders were ready.
I cleared my throat, which snapped their attention to me. They bashfully took their cups and sat down, whispering to one another. I shook my head, amused. Teenagers, I thought. I turned my attention back to the men in front of me.
"May I take your order?" I asked, placing the same smile on my face.
One of the men was white with light brown hair that slightly framed his right eye. His eyes were bright blue as he looked up at the menu above my head. His features were carefree, and gentle. A suit on both men. His lips curved up in a smile.
"What a pretty lady," he winked.
I raised a brow at him.
"Stop flirting with her," grunted a deep voice.
Instantly, my eyes drifted to the man next to him. He was the epitome of dangerous. His skin was pale, but he had some of the most darkest features I ever seen. His onyx black hair was slicked back with a shine to them.
His nose slightly crooked as if it had been broken a few times. His eyes were blank of any emotion. His tamed beard covered his jawline and chin. It wasn't a full beard, just enough to graciously graze his skin. There was this aura of mystery around him. I was appalled by his raw male beauty.
"Are you going to take our orders, lady?" the man with onyx hair asked. I shivered from the coldness of his stare.
I snapped myself out of my trance. "Of course," I said, quickly, averting my gaze.
"It's rude to not look at customers," he growled.
"Excuse me?"
"I said -"
"I know what you said. I was just giving you time to rephrase it," I retorted. As soon as I said it, I slapped a hand over my mouth. I can't believe I just said that. I felt heat rise to my cheeks. "I'm sorry," I rushed out.
He glared daggers at me as his fists clenched at his sides. "Forget it," he muttered. "Just take our damn orders."
I nodded as they ordered an Oreo cookie latte and a pound cake slice with coffee, turning around to prepare the coffee.
"Did you have to be so rude to her?" the light-hearted voice asked.
"Who cares? She's just a waitress," came the grumbled response.
"She was trying to be nice!"
"And I was trying to order food."
"I'm right here, boys," I said over my shoulder as I got the ice cream cups out.
"Fantastic," the rude man remarked sarcastically. "I suppose us being in a hurry won't make you work faster."
Screw being nice.
His expression was bored when I turned around. His silky black hair falling over his eyes as he leaned on the counter. His long fingers impatiently tapping the marble underneath.
"Are all business men this rude or is it just you?" I scowled, unable to handle his hostility.
He stood up straight, snatching his latte. "Let's leave already," he said to the other man, completely ignoring me.
I narrowed my eyes at him. That little bastard. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I took deep breaths to contain my anger. What the hell is his problem?
The brown haired man gave me an apologetic smile as he paid and took his food.
"Why can't you be nice for just three minutes?" asked the brown haired man with his back turned to me.
They took a seat by the window. The mysterious man shrugged with the straw in his mouth. I felt anger radiating off me, huffing. If all business men were like this I was glad I never entered that field.
"She just annoyed me," his deep voice resonated. "Shut up and eat your food. What's done is done."
"Ibrahim," his friend sighed.
Those infuriating obscure eyes locked onto mine. I stared right back, making sure he could sense my annoyance through my glare.
Rolling his eyes as indifference pulled the reigns of his facial features, he glanced wearily at his friend who was stuffing his face with the cake slice. A small smile played on his lips, eyes gentle.
He didn't even look like the type of man I'd just witnessed.
My anger left my body, and I was left wondering what about me really made this guy show his fangs and claws.
Assalamualaikum!
Ibrahim sure is harsh. Talk about mixed signals, am I right? I'm trying to update this book like every week. STAY TUNED BY FOLLOWING ME.
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