Her career was about to take off, she could feel it, and with Malik’s stellar review of the performance art she’d been doing for the last five weeks, she knew she was going to have an amazing reference once the job was over. That being said, while she wasn’t up for making their faux romance a reality, she saw nothing wrong with developing her character somewhat by bonding more with Malik during her last few days in Rabayat.
Amie sat on the couch in a silk nightgown and put her legs across Malik’s lap, his legs now covered by goosebumps at the touch of her skin to his. He had told previously her that was his secret to knowing whether a woman was truly pretty or not; if he could feel skin to skin contact, his whole body would cascade with goosebumps.
She smiled and began to twirl her hair in between her fingers, signaling with her free hand for Malik to rub her feet.
He laughed. “Why don’t you rub my feet?”
“Unfortunately, that’s not in my contract,” she quipped. “Sorry!”
“I want to take you to the theater tonight,” he said suddenly.
“Oh my God, seriously?”
Malik beamed as he looked at her, delighted that his surprise had caused her so much excitement.
It was then that Amie remembered Zafina’s words: “He hates the theater.” Her bounding excitement evaporated as her eyes darted back and forth; suddenly wondering if this was a true gesture of affection, or if it was just one of Malik’s wily charms, making women think he loved what they loved.
“I’ve already arranged the tickets and seats,” he was saying. “We’ll have our own box and everything.”
“That’s really amazing,” she managed to say, her enthusiasm fading.
“You don’t sound all that convinced,” he teased.
“No, it’s just…” She shrugged lamely. “Your sister mentioned your, oh, I don’t know, stunning hatred for the theater.”
Malik laughed. “Zafina?! How would she know! The last time we were taken to the theater together I probably didn’t even have a license.”
Amie studied him carefully as he refuted the statement and finally decided to believe him—or at least make him think that she did.
THIRTEEN
With renewed vigor, Amie spent the whole evening prepping herself for a night of romance; choosing a beautiful dress, curling her hair, and slapping on as much makeup as she could without looking like she was trying out for the world’s oldest profession.
Rabayat City was set in a narrow valley filled with rich history: temples, tombs and monuments from the early years of civilization. With all of its architectural gems, it was no surprise to Amie how beautiful their theater looked, and just as grand and breathtaking as Azim had described, way back on her first night in the country. The outside was beautiful brick with an Old-Hollywood style marquee; the inside bustling with excited locals coming to see opening night of the newest production.
Ah, opening night. Back in Chicago, Amie hadn’t experienced opening night of Carolina and the Bridge like the rest of her cast had, but the energy backstage had still been unmistakable; a nervous, palpable excitement running through every actor as they whispered their lines and prepped their costumes over and over again. It gave her butterflies just thinking about it.
Malik took her to their seats; a private box, offset from the center balcony. The theater was a fair size, and had meticulously-carved designs down the walls, as well as that signature red curtain shielding the actors from the audience.
Amie gripped Malik’s arm and whispered excited giggles into his ear until a hushed, anticipatory silence filled the room; the play was about to start.
Malik took a look around, surveying the rest of the audience, before taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze as the first scene began.
The play was a Middle-Eastern take on Romeo and Juliet; star-crossed lovers held back from one another by their warring families. While spoken in Arabic, the plot was easy enough to follow, which was probably why Malik had chosen it in the first place. Still, every few moments he would lean closer to her, whispering translations of the dialogue in her ear.