Handcuffed

The lights blinded me the moment my foot landed onto the red carpet. Emir stepped out first and gave me a hand which I took gratefully. There was hell to pay for the long train we had decided on keeping. Hand in hand we took a few steps as four attendants rushed in to fix the train.

The crowd of media went wild when I started walking.

"You are looking gorgeous!"

"This way, Sana! "

"A smile please!"

The shouts blended with each other. It was overwhelming as I walked to the centre and posted for a picture with my boss.

"You are holding yourself well.", Emir said casually.

"I have an excellent poker face. It serves well for the boardroom and the gambling tables."

Emir snickered.

We turned this way and that way for a solid five minutes. It was a wild uproar. People were going crazy over the necklace and the dress.

Having fun, I gave them a sultry, bad girl pout and then sashayed off to the side.

"Now, that was unexpected.", Emir whispered in my ear.

" What can I say! We all have our moments.", I whispered back. "By the way, would it be weird if I said you look handsome?"

"Not if, I can say that you look divine.", he commented back.

"I am about to faint from your praise.", I teased.

"I promise to hold you.", he teased back.

When had thorny enmity turned into friendly camaraderie. Only Fate knew.

"Just a little more, Ms. Bianchi. We are almost out of the doghouse.", he said, his hand resting on the small of my back.

"We are just entering the gates of hell.

'Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here'. I can feel it.", I responded comically.

"There's our group of unruly babies.", he said referring to the group of press reporters.

"Must we babysit them?" I pouted.

"Unless, you want to be called a bad parent."

"Good God! I have more than enough children!", I exclaimed. " I don't need one more."

He looked at me curiously but didn't say a word. At that very moment, we reached the group of collected journalists.

"Hello! Sana! I am Lisa from Harper's Bazaar. May I say you look absolutely radiant tonight!", she gushed.

" Thank you!", I answered politely.

"Would you tell us about your dress and the necklace? ", she asked. " I believe we have never seen that necklace before."

"It was a generous gift from the House of Aslan. Mr. Aslan himself lent it to me for the occasion. It has a deep and integrated history of two cultures. It is a symbol of friendship between Aslan and Lemaire, during a war that had drawn a divide between two races. It's an example of peace, of co-existance. It is a symbol of what we need today.", I replied.

"Thank you Sana! And what about the dress Mr. Aslan? Is it one of your creations?", she asked.

"Yes...it is.", he said.

Her enthusiasm didn't diminish at his clipped answer.

" I must say, we didn't think you would create again. The fashion community was devastated after the accident.", she blabbered on.

Emir stiffened beside me. I skilfully directed the press's questions away from the uncomfortable topics to my resignation and my return to the fashion circuit as PR representative and spokesperson of the house. Emir was getting increasingly fidgety beside me.

"Would you get me a drink, please?", I asked pointedly.

" Yes, of course.", he said and squeezed my hand in silent gratitude as he left us.

I breathed in a sigh of relief when the press part was done.

"Sana, my love!"

A mellifluous, familiar tone sounded at my back. I turned sharply. It was Simone LeBlanc, André's ex-wife and one of my favorite humans in the whole world. She came dashing towards me in her enormous heels, a Herculean task that she managed to make look graceful. She wrapped me in a bear hug and suddenly it felt easier to breathe. It should have knocked the air out of me but it made me feel at home.

Some arms felt like home. Some hugs were sunlight on a winter's day. Some kisses were reassurance on the darkest nights.

"Tu es magnifique, ma cherie.", Simone exclaimed enthusiastically in an outpouring of French.

"I look like a hairless chicken next to you, Simone. You are the belle of the ball.", I said rolling my eyes.

She took my hands and posed for a pictures. The cameras had not stooped clicking since she had entered the Hall in a blaze of icy blue. She was wearing a stunning gown of ice blue that seemed to highlight her extraordinary purple eyes. She looked like Nemesis.

"Nonsense!", Simone said. " You are like a goddess tonight and I adore your necklace. I haven't seen a rarer piece. It suits you."

"La couer de la flamme, it is called.", I said.

" You are the heart of our flame, Sana. André would have been proud of you, of all you have achieved, of all you have suffered and all you have been denied. You still stand. It's a miracle.", she whispered.

"I have nothing, Simone. I am just another desperate mother trying to fit into this glamorous world. I want to throw off this gown. It's not who I am. I want to be out there, making a difference, not here simping in pretty clothes."

"Who says beauty isn't strength?", she reminded me gently.

I looked at her sharply.

"Okay, my mistake. Point taken."

She kissed my cheek as we steered inside the Hall for more drama with various celebrities and socialites.

_________

"How did this happen?", Emir exclaimed in frustration as he tried futilely to pull his hand away.

I giggled hysterically.

We had been mistakenly locked in a pair of fur handcuffs, his right hand to my left. A very enthusiastic model had dressed up in full bondage gear. I had been fascinated by the furry handcuffs. Emir had been avoiding me for the rest of the party. I had finally found him and declared that I would lock him in jail if he sulked anymore. Upon the followup of my threat, and a drunken experiment gone wrong, we had foolishly ended up locking ourselves in handcuffs.

Now we were inseperable. Quite literally.

And Emir Aslan did not like it one bit.

"You are enjoying this aren't you?", he asked sounding mad.

" Yes....but only a little bit.", I said biting my lip to stop laughing.

"It's not funny.", he said.

" It is funny.....but only a little bit.", I repeated clutching my stomach with the other hand.

"How are we ever going to get out of here?", he exclaimed.

" Who said we have to?", I challenged.

"Spending the night handcuffed to you is my idea of the seventh circle in hell.", he huffed and puffed.

I was going to fall over after seeing his red face.

" I know....", I wheezed out, "that you meant it in a completely platonic way but GOD it sounded perverted as hell...."

His eyes rounded. A tiny smile peeked at the corner of his lips.

"Take your mind out of the gutter, Miss Bianchi.", he said rolling his kajal-lined eyes.

"Oh! Stop scowling. You are acting like Sir Oracle, an old man. Did you stop to think that this is a new experience for you- being handcuffed to the woman you hate. It's something new to learn. Be hungry for new experiences. Don't behave like a bitter old man!", I admonished.

"I am a bitter old man but I'm surprised you noticed. ", he said.

" Yes, and I am Lawrence of Arabia. ", I bit out sarcastically. "Half the girls in the room were drooling over you. It's a little hard not to notice when every girl in a five-mile radius was asking if you were available!"

"And the other half?", he asked.

"They were drooling over me, of course.", I said.

" You think you are that irresistible?", he asked.

"I know I am that irresistible. Just as I know something is troubling you.", I said pointedly.

"Perspective aren't you? ", he asked his forehead creasing in surprise.

"You forget that I read people for a living. Their strengths, their weaknesses. It's all a part of the game we play. It's chess.", I said.

"You're right.", he admitted.

" I usually am. But about what specifically this time?", I teased.

"I don't give you the respect you deserve. You were a CEO, I should ask you for your opinion. I am woefully bad at leading the company.", he said sighing.

He pulled the silk blue turban from his head and unwrapped it and placed it on the ground.

"That is finest mulberry silk you are using as picnic blanket. The media would have your head for the treachery you are about to commit!", I warned.

" Who cares? If I can't have a little fun, what's the use of being a CEO?", he joked.

We sat down side by side handcuffed to each other, me in my peacock blue gown(for the afterparty) and him in his white and gold sherwani.

"So tell me why you think you are bad at playing the boss.", I began.

"Five years ago, Aslan-Lemaire hit a rough patch. My father, Sohaib Aslan, started taking double his workload to bring the company back on its feet. We were drowning in debt. The management was poor. Overwork, stress, then chronic alcoholism. He had three cardiac arrests in a year. He didn't make it through the next year. When I lost him, I was still in Paris, at the École. The board had an emergency meeting and I was made managing director with Clementine. I had grown up in Istanbul, then Paris. I had never set foot here. Neither had I wanted this. I mean, I always knew that I was going to lead but I am always thought I would have ten more years at least, to learn, to grow. My entire life was uprooted.I am still trying to figure out what is right. There have been other losses, terrible losses.", he said, his pain, a tangible thing.

"God! Your life story is so sad, it's making me depressed.", I said pretending to gag. In truth, I wanted him to smile, so at least the entire evening wouldn't be a waste.

" Going back to Istanbul brought back memories, didn't it?", I asked.

"It did. Although, the journey was worth it.", he said, his eyes shining softly under the fairy lights.

I looked away.

" Somedays, it's hard for me as well. Someone I care about very deeply is fighting a war, a literal and a metaphorical one. I am worried that....that he won't come back unscathed. No one comes back from war, the same. This war is necessary evil. He needs to make peace with his past. ", I shared.

"Maybe it's for the best. You can't fear change. Perhaps, he will come back better.", he said plucking a blade of grass.

"I pray all the time, for him. I don't need him to come back to me better, I just want him to come back and I will accept him as he is, rough and uneven edeges and all.", I said looking up at the sky.

"You love him very much.", he said softly.

"It's a curse. It's ugly, it's painful,it's messy.", I said.

"And yet we do it.", he agreed.

" We brave the pain because otherwise life is meaningless. I'd rather live this agony, than die not knowing him", I agreed.

He looked at me strangely, seeing me in a completely new light.

"You are an endless mystery, Sana Bianchi.", Enir said.

"I sound like a bloody philosopher.", I said wiggling my eye brows.

He laughed finally.

"I made you laugh. Mission accomplished."

He looked down buying his lip to stop that blooming smile.

In that moment, he reminded me of a certain doctor who had stolen my heart.

There was a satisfying click.

Emir looked up startled.

The handcuff came loose.

"How in the world-?", he asked bewildered.

I held up the hairpin that I had used to pick the lock.

" Sana Bianchi, do I want to know how you learnt to pick a lock?", he asked.

"It comes in handy, when I get arrested.", I teased.

He shook his head in incredulity.

"You are a hazard to my sanity.", he declared.

"What a compliment!", I said taking no offense.

He stood and gave me a hand.

" Let's get back to the party. People will have no doubt noticed our presence.", he said.

"Let me mess up my hair a little bit. At least people will assume that we were making out instead of being sad and depressed."

He laughed out loud. Finally, the clouds of sadness were retreating from the horizon of his grey eyes.

They were clear, relieved. He wore that devilish smile again.

He walked four steps, then turned back.

"Wait, so you always knew how to pick a lock, then why did you not open it in the first place?", he asked.

I smiled.

________