“Does he? That’s surprising.”
Zamir nodded. The enmity between his father and brother was undeniable.
“He cares for you. He hates that you are here.”
“Yes, I’m the never ending disappointment.”
Zamir breathed out through his nose, so that his nostrils flared. “You are throwing yourself the pity party.”
“The pity party?” Ra’if rolled his eyes. “A pity party. And yes. I am.”
Zamir shook his head. “You must be positive.”
“Come on, Zami. Don’t lecture me. My life is shit enough without that.”
Zamir couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay.”
“You’re the perfect one. You’re the one who never stuffs up. What the hell would you know about what I’m going through?”
Zamir settled back in the chair. “Actually, considerably more than you might think.” He shunned the idea of confiding in Ra’if. Instead, he reached for the Monopoly board. “Shall we?”
* * *
That night, when Olivia’s phone rang, she ignored it again. She couldn’t go to his room and pretend that it hadn’t happened. She couldn’t go and drink tea with him and chatter about nothing in particular, and everything that mattered to her, as if he hadn’t broken her heart.
And he had broken her heart. She saw that now.
He had made her fall in love with him, and then he’d thrown it back in her face.
She flipped over in bed and stared at the mirrored wall of her wardrobe.
Was she crazy to stay?
Not to call Johnny and beg for a replacement to be sent?
Probably.
But a macabre determination to see it through haunted her decision-making.
And so she switched her phone off and shut her eyes, and waited to see what the morning would bring.
CHAPTER SIX
There had to be some mistake. Surely the orders she’d just received couldn’t be right. Her eyes lifted and scanned the email once more.
His royal highness has asked that a suitable venue be selected for dinner of a personal nature. His guest values her privacy and the venue should reflect that. Spare no expense in securing the most impressive location in the city. Do not use his highness’s title when making the reservation.
Her brain hurt.
She sat down on the end of her bed. Another week had passed since they’d slept together, and Zamir appeared to have given up on her. He no longer called overnight, and beyond accompanying him on the visits to the clinic, he asked for nothing else of her.
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Her spare time was becoming overwhelming.
She was miserable, and she had far too much freedom to analyse it, and feel it.
But this?