Chapter 11
The next morning, Soraya woke up bleary-eyed and hungry.
She felt something cool against her skin and realized she was still wearing the dress Sorenth had given her the night before.
She had never taken it off, and after examining the dress, it was surprisingly unwrinkled and unstained. It really was fascinating material.
Sorenth. His face flashed across her mind—his dashing smile and olive-green eyes. Looking around the room, she spotted her phone on her cluttered nightstand and picked it up. A black screen looked back at her. It was dead. With a sigh, she found her charger and plugged it in.
While waiting for it to charge, she went to her closet and flicked through her clothes until she found a flowy green sundress.
Removing the beautiful yellow gown and hanging it up, she quickly changed and headed out to the kitchen to get a bite to eat.
She pulled together some yogurt, honey, and berries. Mixing it all, she took a bite absentmindedly—and gagged. Spitting out the foul food, she grabbed a cup of water and swished her mouth out to try to get rid of the taste.
After purging her mouth of the horrid taste, she opened the fridge to inspect the yogurt.
She had just bought it, and it shouldn’t have gone bad so soon.
The expiration date was a couple of weeks out, so it must have been a bad batch.
Disappointed, she dumped the yogurt in the sink and recycled the container.
She heard a ding go off in her bedroom, and the yogurt was forgotten as she padded into her room, making a beeline for her phone. She was only slightly disappointed when she saw Ahvi’s name on the screen.
Clicking on her messages, she saw she had no other texts. A quick glance at the time showed it was only an hour and a half until noon. Disheartened that Sorenth hadn’t texted her yet, she clicked the message open:
Ahvi: I’ll be out all day. Don’t worry about me.
Man, her boss is truly evil for making her work so hard on a Sunday. Soraya thought, feeling bummed out on her friend’s behalf.
She sent a quick text asking if she needed help, then sat on her bed and scrolled through social media.
Fifteen minutes later, Ahvi replied, declining her offer but saying she should be home later that night. Soraya gave the message a thumbs up.
The afternoon sun shone through her window, warming her up while she lay cozy on her bed. She caught herself dozing off and decided a nice nap sounded like a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.
Her eyelids were growing heavier and heavier, and she didn’t resist as sleep gently swept her away on a warm thought of waking up to a text from Sorenth.
~
Waking up several hours later, Soraya yawned and stretched out her heavy limbs. All her late-night activities were starting to catch up with her.
Her head felt heavy, and her mouth felt dry. Smacking her lips together, she sat up in bed. Looking over her shoulder at her window, she saw the last light of the day peeking through the downtown buildings.
Getting up, she checked her fully charged phone and saw it was almost eight at night. One message from Jesmine stated that she was going to the gym and would be there for a while.
That was it. Soraya received no other texts during her marathon nap time, and something in her heart twisted at that.
It was just a one-night stand, she thought to herself. It didn’t mean anything.
Forcing herself to squash the disappointment—and, if she was honest with herself, the hurt—she threw her phone on her bed and put her hands on her hips, thinking.
Ahvi was out and most likely won’t be home until well past midnight. Jesmine was at the gym, working out her feelings, which could take a while. So, what was she going to do with herself? Soraya didn’t like being alone for too long; it made her restless.
She could stay home and binge-watch a show or start a movie series. Or maybe she could do something useful, like visit the soup kitchen where she often volunteered. But…
Something under her skin was buzzing with adrenaline. She felt more awake than ever, and her body craved movement. To do something.
Her stomach growled ferociously. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything all day, and when the sharp hunger pangs spiked through her stomach, she made up her mind.
Flinging open her closet door, she took out the gold dress gifted to her by someone she didn’t want to name.
Giving it a quick sniff test, she deemed it clean and whipped it off its hanger. She hardly wore it long enough to warrant cleaning it.
Throwing off her clothes, she went over to her drawer and pulled out a pair of clean underwear. After sliding the underwear on, she pulled the dress overhead and shivered as the material sluiced down her body in one smooth wave.
She couldn’t wear a bra with it unless she wanted the straps to show.
Looking in the mirror, she decided to forgo the heavy makeup and opted instead to curl her eyelashes and apply mascara. Nude lipstick completed the look.
Letting her hair flow down her back, she curled the ends and examined herself in the mirror. She wished she had a nice pair of gold dangling earrings to go with the dress—maybe one day.
Grabbing her phone and white clutch, she stepped into her strappy gold heels by the door before swiftly exiting the apartment to venture into the downtown area yet again.
~
Walking through downtown, looking the way she did, and feeling the dress swish around her legs, made her feel like she was strutting down a runway, not that anyone looked her way.
But she knew she looked ethereal—thanks mainly to the dress—and she almost felt like it, too, if not for the relentless growling of her empty stomach.
Soraya passed one of her favorite taco trucks and was tempted by the thought of three mouth-watering al pastor tacos, topped with some sweet pineapple. But the moment the scent hit her nose, she recoiled, slapping a hand over her face to block out the horrid smell.
The servers and cooks cast her a few suspicious glances as she rushed away, cheeks burning with embarrassment at her reaction.
But it wasn’t just their food—it was all of them. Her favorite burger joint smelled too rancid, the sushi place too fishy, the pizza too plastic, and even the rich spices of her beloved Indian cuisine made her gag. Everything, including the very downtown air, seemed unbearable.
Frustrated, she pulled out the travel perfume from her clutch and gave herself a spritz. It helped, but only a little.
Left hungry, cranky, and increasingly annoyed by how the day unfolded, she stomped down the gum-stained sidewalks, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete.
Letting her hunger and feet take her wherever they wish—her mind swirled aimlessly—about Tariq. About Sorenth, Ahvi, and Jesmine, and the stupid food—
The smell of something so profoundly delicious wafted around her, halting her mind and feet in their tracks.
She looked around and saw she was on some random street. Cars and buses were passing her on her right, and a steady stream of people was walking around her as they chatted merrily.
Sniffing the air, a group of people dressed for clubbing gave her a wide berth as they laughed and chattered about some new TV show. After they flowed around her, her mouth watered as the wonderful scent grew stronger.
Turning her head, she saw a restaurant she had never seen or heard of before. In painted black letters above the door read:
The Drunken Duck.
The most marvelous smells she had ever smelled in her whole life wrapped her up and drew her in.
Salivating, she reached for the handle and was jolted with electricity. Hissing, she shook her hand, cursing the stupid static, and tried again. This time, she managed to open the door and stepped inside.
For a moment, it felt as if she were stepping through a force field—entering in slow motion.
When her foot landed on the floor inside, she realized she was in a lovely restaurant with a bar occupying the far side of the room.
The low ceiling was well-lit, and charming little lanterns adorned the tables scattered throughout the space, each flickering with a warm red flame that created a cozy ambiance for the patrons enjoying their tasty-looking dishes.
The atmosphere was inviting, and she decided she didn’t care what the price was; she would savor their best meal if it meant tasting something out of this world, judging by the heavenly aroma surrounding her.
Wandering down the few steps, she headed toward the bar. There were seats available at the far end, but in the middle sat a lone man.
He had a broad, straight back, and as she approached the bar, her feet turned away from the empty seat by the wall, drawn instead to the one a couple of seats down from him.
Placing her clutch on the counter, she settled into the high red cushion barstool and casually glanced at him.
He had black hair gilded red by the fake flame of the lantern before him. Dressed in a long-sleeved white dress shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks, he sat with his hands steepled in front of his mouth, his elbows resting on the bar. He looked deep in thought.
Breathing in the air, she could smell all sorts of wonderful things, but the smell of jasmine and sage really stood out to her.
Rubbing her thighs together, she could clearly see how handsome his side profile was. He had thick eyebrows and a strong jaw. He was a big man, but not as imposing as Tariq—she couldn’t help but notice.
She debated striking up a conversation with him when a beautiful woman glided right up next to him. She had fiery red hair, cut into a bob. She was a tiny thing with soft curves and a dazzling open-back green dress that flowed around her mid-calf.
“Hello, my dear. You look as if you could use some company tonight,” the woman all but purred into his ear. “Allow me to join you?” She said the last part while wrapping her hands around his bicep.