Chapter 46
ROME, ITALY
MARIAM Al-Hamad’s face already felt tired from smiling.
She supposed this was a good problem to have.
At first, she’d been worried that her event would prove to be a dud. Not because she didn’t have a lot to say so much as she wasn’t sure there would be a lot of interest. Rome was known for culture, religion, and great food, but the city was hardly a home for policy wonks.
Rome was not Georgetown or Brussels.
She’d accepted the invitation to be interviewed mainly because she thought the exposure timed with the upcoming event in Kuwait City would be a good way of reminding the world about the Iraqi aggression against her home and the continued threat to Middle East stability still posed by Saddam Hussein.
If twenty people came, along with a newspaper reporter or two, she’d consider the undertaking a success.
This was before socialite Marina Bellucci had gotten wind of the event and offered to moderate the conversation.
The chic woman was an Italian celebrity who had begun her career as a television news anchor before graduating to writing, directing, and activism.
She was a beauty with a brain whose sense of style was copied by women across the European continent.
Best of all, Marina lived in Rome.
Now anyone who was anyone in the Eternal City wanted to attend.
Tickets for the meager number of seats had sold out within an hour and the hotel had scrambled to set up an overflow room in which additional attendees could view the event via closed-circuit TV.
To capitalize on the sudden interest, a meet and greet prior to her remarks had been scheduled on the fly and a cocktail party for afterward.
Mariam was grateful for the attention this brought to her cause, but she had not prepared herself to shake hands and make small talk before she’d even sat down to be interviewed by the glamorous Marina Bellucci.
No matter.
She was a Kuwaiti ambassador, and if her sudden surge in popularity helped the tiny state, so much the better. But she was certainly looking forward to spending the next forty minutes fielding questions from just one person instead of sixty.
“Madam Ambassador—could I steal you for one second?”
Mariam forced her lips back into a smile even as she said words she didn’t mean. “Of course.”
The table with its empty chair was just steps away, but when Giorgio Moretti, the Italian minister of economy and finance, wanted a word, one didn’t say no. Especially since her government was actively courting several Italian businesses in the hope that they would open branches in Kuwait.
“Excellent,” Giorgio said. “I’d like you to meet Mario Gallo. He was hoping to get a word with you after your talk. A private word.”
Mario extended his hand and Mariam suppressed a sigh as she prepared to shake it.
If she did this, she ran the risk of the dam bursting in the form of other, seated VIPs using the opportunity to introduce themselves as well.
If she didn’t, she risked humiliating Giorgio and jeopardizing the Italian deal.
Mariam widened her smile and prepared for the inevitable.
But salvation arrived.
Like a genie summoned from a bottle, Yousef magically appeared at her side.
Using the trick employed by handlers since the beginning of time, he interposed himself between his principal and Mario, clasping the businessman’s outstretched hand in his own.
“The ambassador is pleased to meet you. If you’ll step to the side, I’d be happy to discuss her calendar. ”
Mariam caught Yousef’s eye and winked.
Then she turned back to the front of the room, her empty chair, and her waiting interlocutor. She registered the door to the men’s water closet opening as she spun. A man exited. A man with eyes the color of night. She couldn’t have said why, but his presence provoked a most unexpected reaction.
Fear.