In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful
'Peace and Blessings of Allah be upon our beloved Prophet and Master Muhammad (s.a.s), all his blessed descendents and noble companions.'
- Aameen.
Chapter Four
The Playboy's Attempts
London, U.K.
"Oh I don't know Soph, kinda busy now but when I last checked there were several friend requests...most of them from completely unknown women! Would you believe it!" Sophia's lips twitched as she heard her best friend's voice snort in disgust.
"I think I shouldn't have set his former photo as the profile pic. But he's sorta changed now, older too and how could our relatives recognize him then?" Maryam mused unhappily. "So, I used one his earlier photos as the display. But this is bringing up unnecessary problems with random women asking his age or whether he's still that handsome, and it made me so furious...!"
"Reply them sweetheart. Tell he is, very sexy... especially now." Sophia interjected, grinning widely though her friend couldn't see her.
There was a moment's stillness before the daughter's wrath came gushing, "Sophia You Dirty-Minded Roberts! Gah if only you were in front of me now!"
Sophia's grin bubbled into merry laughter as Maryam continued to list the various gruesome threats that she would carry out.
"Hey I was just telling the truth. And it's time he noticed that there lived other women on earth besides his darling daughter," Sophia's voice was gently mocking to Maryam's ears. "There's no need to be so protective about him. He's obviously older and more experienced than you're, let him have some fun now and then. Encourage him to socialize, date some wonderful women -
When Sophia ended her friendly advice, there was a long silence on the other side. Have I hurt her by my frank opinion? Sophia worried in belated uneasiness.
"Mar -"
"It's not like I keep him in binds Soph," Maryam interrupted her with a mixture of rough tenderness. "It's he himself who binds his whole life to mine. Yes he's indeed older in years than me, but... I don't think he's that experienced - as long as I have known him, he follows this punctual routine which he rarely varies from.
"Sometimes I feel like he's an innocent and I'm an old woman in the ways of the world. You know how I have changed now, but my Abba is still how he used to be. One could say I'm more religious than him now." Maryam laughed, not hiding the self-deprecation that she felt inside her.
"But y'know I can never be sure about my holding on to practicing goodness... to all this piety always, coz there are times ... I don't know," she sighed, a breath dragged deep from her struggling heart.
A loving smile flitted across her lips as she continued softly, "Yet with absolute certainty I can say this about my dad, he will never do anything that isn't honest or right. And Soph sweetheart, I told you before, no - I explained to you in detail how it's not allowed 'to date' in Islam... all of which of course I learned recently and I don't know how much I'll follow or how long I would last before slipping back into something which I shouldn't do..."
"You would be alright," Sophia comforted but felt that these things about Islam which her friend was learning and striving to follow seemed a bit too harsh.
The call ended after some more minutes and Sophia finally turned from the terrace's railing, a pensive smile on her lips.
She glanced up from her phone's screen, and then visibly stiffened.
Close to the dark frosted doors stood the man she had avoided like the plague for the past four days; yet here he was once again, casually leaning against a mock orange shrub near the shaded low table and chair - his hand abstractedly twirling a glass of champagne as he watched her with intense eyes.
George saw the smile vanish from her lips and almost imagined her slipping on the cold expressionless mask as she stared back at him.
"So," he observed, raising his pierced brow in exaggerated surprise, "the Ice Queen laughs too."
Sophia did not reply. Her cool glance travelled back to the doors through which she could make out vague blurry figures, all celebrating the immense success of Mattie Jones in the informal party which the designer had thrown that evening to the leading fashionistas.
In the slowly darkening night around them, some of the heavy music played by the DJ floated outside to them mingled with faint wisps of laughter. Sophia pretended not to notice her vaguely hammering heart as she moved towards him, while he still regarded her with cool intensity.
"If you please," she gave him one of her beautiful automatic smiles as she made to go past him.
"No. Wait a moment Miss Roberts," he drawled, matching her aloofness with his own detached manner .
"Tell me," he continued almost lazily, yet his gaze hovered intently on her face. "Why did you send back those flowers?"
George saw the mask slip a little as Sophia frowned. "Was not my answer clear? I don't want either your gifts or attention."
"Why? I have a right to know," His unusual dark eyes never wavered as they diligently scoured her face for some reaction, "why you dislike me so much."
For a moment, her mask fell completely and he caught a startled expression, but then she replaced it swiftly by open disdain.
"Please don't be vain Mr. Benedict. Why would I dislike you? I don't even know you. But if you really want to know," she gave a tiny shrug. "I dislike all men in general." He was smiling now, albeit ruefully.
Sophia turned from him and pushed open the glass door. But his hand shot out and grasped her wrist.
"Don't go," he entreated softly. "Please." She looked down at his fingers and he immediately let go of her hand.
Her heart stumbled and she tried to breathe easily, forever glad that he couldn't read the sharp effect of his abrupt touch upon her. Or maybe he did, but remained silent.
When she did not go inside but turned reluctantly towards the terrace, he flashed his beautiful smile in gratitude. Sophia sighed inwardly, telling her sudden irregular heart beats that this man was nothing but bad news. She watched him drain down his remaining wine and run his fingers through his hair almost thoughtfully.
He sat down on the low deck chair, placing the glass on the table. But she turned towards the railing and he saw her meld partially into the shadows, once again becoming the aloof beautiful woman, far out of his reach.
When he had observed her sometime before without her knowledge, he had seen the way she had laughed to someone in the phone - in absolute delight and enjoyment. Yet she stood now, the exquisite face striving to show no emotion and the green eyes cool and impersonal.
George wondered how it would be if she laughed with him like that, how it would feel taking hold of her in his arms; He wished he could kiss her into abandon, not letting her go free until she had loosened her severe self-control, until she throws her mask away revealing that which was beneath it -warm and alive, not this facade of iciness.
He mused what sonofa***** had made her become this way, that she didn't seem to care how unjust her judgement was, in disliking 'all men in general'.
"You say you don't know me," his quiet voice broke into her thoughts. "Yet you won't allow us to get to know each other, it would mean a lot to me if we could go out." He hinted at her rejection of his dates twice.
Her head snapped towards him. "Do I look like an idiot Mr. Benedict? You should have known by now that I'm not your dumb models...and I'm well acquainted of your famous reputation which means obviously my plans don't include in becoming one more number in your affairs-statistics."
George stared, and then throwing back his gorgeous head, burst into loud laughter that echoed into the night.
Sophia heard the deep, rich laugh and felt something curl tightly in her stomach. She shivered and moved further away from him. Why couldn't he leave her alone? Ever since that night at the ball until today, it had appeared as if he was pursuing her relentlessly despite her stern discouragement. He was there at every place she went and by asking her out twice for dinner before others, he had made his intentions clear.
If I can't leave this country soon... Sophia stifled her budding emotions and thought blankly how she could refuse him further. The Fashion world was amused now, that their darling playboy had met his match finally - someone who didn't swoon and fall before his feet... yet she knew, that soon the tables may change, and her cold behavior towards him would be frowned upon.
She rubbed her forehead unconsciously to ease her head's dull pounding, gazing unseeingly at the blinking lights of the traffic way below. A gentle breeze caressed and tried to soothe her. Sophia sighed, deep down inside she knew that it wasn't him or the others she was afraid of; No, it was she herself.
Afraid that she would eventually succumb to his persuasive charm and terrified that her rigidly guarded mind and heart would prove traitorous.
"That was brutal Sophia." He grinned seemingly amused, yet his heart became forlorn. "May I call you that? I know you'll say no but never mind, I won't give up."
"You know you amaze me," George shook his head in wonder, his grin turning pleased.
She remained silent, thankful that he couldn't hear the erratic gallop of her heart. But her mind remained familiarly skeptical, is this how he flatters the other women too?
He rose and moved to where she stood, their shoulders almost touching, while Sophia willed herself to stand still and betray nothing.
They stood thus; suddenly hushed and breathless yet dimly aware of the attraction that was dawning between them. It needed only a touch - of spark to catch fire and become ablaze.
George turned his head, openly drinking in her profile and involuntarily leaning closer. She heard his steady breathing become heavy and turned towards the door thinking to go far away from his presence.
"I think," he spoke again in the soft voice she had heard before. "You are wrong. My reputation as you mentioned is nothing but a huge exaggeration. People assume it must be great being me, but the playboy title is stuck to me no matter what I do, and it's not cool at all. Everybody calls you the Ice Queen, isn't that an exaggeration too? The past days I observed how you don't have any friends here and how others give a wide berth to you... does that mean you don't have a warm heart beating behind all that layer of coldness? Does being an Ice Queen mean you don't mind loneliness and aren't afraid of others words?"
She did not turn back yet he heard surprise in her voice as she replied, "You said that I amaze you but I'm astonished by you, Mr. Benedict."
Sophia left him and this time he did not stop her as she pushed open the doors, and hurried inside towards the lights, sounds, happy familiarity... or anything... that could bring all her tangled senses back to normality.
And George smiled to himself, not the devastating grin that shatters others hearts, but a melancholic smile as he observed to the world at large, "Astonishment is better than dislike, don't you think?"
***