Chapter 27

ZAINAB

Sofia lets us into my father’s London house and assures us that dinner will be served in half an hour.

Spotting the hightops on the shoe rack, I sigh with relief. My brother is already here.

The aria from my father’s favorite opera soundtrack echoes down the hallway as Griff and I take off our coats in the foyer.

He places his hand on my lower back. I shoot him a nervous glance before straightening my shoulders and walking toward the living room.

~It’s time to face the music.~

My father’s face lights up when he sees me. I only wish that I could keep that smile on his face.

“Darling, there you are.” He reaches out to hug me and then puts out his hand. “And Mr. Huxley, too.”

“Griff, please,” my boyfriend replies, and my father raises his eyebrows.

“Very well, Griff it is. Now, what can I get you two to drink?”

While my father is distracted by the drinks trolley, I go on the hunt for Faisal. As suspected, he is outside having a cigarette on the patio.

“Hey, Sis.”

“Hey.” I walk over to him. “I need your help tonight.”

“With what?”

I swallow thickly. “I’m telling Dad about Griff and me.”

Surprise crosses Faisal’s face before he blows out a long exhale. “Okay, damn. Before or after dinner?”

“What do you think is best?”

“During,” he replies with a shrug. “He won’t be able to storm off, and he would have already had some food so he might be less hangry.”

“Won’t that be really awkward?”

“Nab, you’re shagging your bodyguard. It’s awkward already.”

“Great,” I mutter. “How do you think I should approach this?”

Faisal snorts. “I know you’re not asking me for advice. I have no idea, Nab.”

“Come on, you must have some advice?”

“Yeah, don’t kiss Griff in front of him.”

I shake my head in exasperation. Faisal finishes his cigarette, and we go back inside together. My father and Griff are sitting opposite each other on adjacent sofas, drinks in hand.

“I made you one, darling,” he says, gesturing to an untouched glass.

I pick it up and take a large swig for courage. “Thank you.”

“So, what’s new in your lives?” Father asks, looking between my brother and me.

Faisal smirks. “Yeah, Zainab, what’s new in your life?”

I glare at him and then fake a smile for my dad. “Very much the usual. I’m still undecided on the manuscript.”

My father nods thoughtfully. He’s heard all about the piece.

“I’m sure you’ll come to a decision soon. What about your social life? Are you getting out? Are you dating anyone?”

I open my mouth and quickly close it again. I have no idea how to answer that.

“I’m booking a new tour for next year,” Faisal says, and thankfully, the heat is taken off me.

Sofia comes through to announce that dinner is ready, and we move to the dining room.

I wait until my father has cleared half of his plate before I put my cutlery down and clear my throat. He looks up at me expectantly.

“Father, I need to tell you something. Earlier you asked how my life is, and actually, I ~am~ dating someone.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he places his fork down. “This is fantastic news, Zainab. Who is he? Do I know him?”

It feels like there is a stone sitting in my stomach. I clutch my hands together on my lap under the table. I want nothing more than to link my fingers with Griff’s and hold his hand for support, but I know that will just make things worse.

“Um, yes, you do know him.” I inhale quickly and turn back to my father. “It’s Griff, Dad. Griffith and I are dating.”

For a very tense moment, nobody says a word. It feels like all of us are holding our breath. My father’s face remains impassive as he processes my reply.

Then, just as quickly, he frowns at me. He raises his napkin to his mouth and carefully wipes the corners before slowly setting it down. His eyes don’t leave mine once.

“Tell me that this is a joke, Zainab. It’s not funny, but it better be a joke.”

I see Griff stiffen in my periphery. I want to reach out to him more than ever.

“It’s not a joke.”

You could hear a pin drop.

Faisal is looking back and forth between me and our dad.

Griff is staring at my father, his body turned slightly toward mine. I’m sure his protective instincts are kicking into overdrive right now.

My father swallows and takes a deep breath. “You are not dating a member of your security team, Zainab.”

“He isn’t my bodyguard anymore.”

My father’s eyes narrow on both of us, his mouth pressed into a grim line. “No daughter of mine will date an ~employee~.”

He makes the word sound dirty.

My father has always been a bit of a snob. It’s one of the reasons I was surprised that he was so accepting of Faisal’s career choice. A rapper is hardly on the same level as a lawyer or surgeon in my father’s eyes, but he loves Faisal and wants him to be happy.

I can only hope he wants the same for me.

“He’s a good guy, Dad.” Faisal jumps to my defense, and I smile at him in thanks.

Our father’s attention turns to him as he spits, “I didn’t ask if he’s a good man. I know what kind of man he is, and he is not suitable for you.”

I hate the way he is talking about Griff as if he’s not sitting here. I should have never brought this up with Griff in the room. I should have asked him to step outside or something.

On instinct, I reach for his hand under the table. After a second of hesitation, he links his fingers with mine.

“With all due respect, Dad,” I begin quietly. “I’m not asking your permission.”

There’s a moment where my father just looks at me, his expression dumbfounded.

Without warning, he stands up, pushing back his chair. He throws his napkin onto the table with a flourish.

“Well, I think dinner is finished,” he snaps.

We’re all silent as he rounds the table and storms out of the dining room, his polished shoes thudding along the floorboards. For a beat, no one says anything.

Faisal breaks the silence. “I think that went well.”

I glare at him before groaning and putting my head in my hands. “That was so awful.”

Griff rubs between my shoulder blades, and I just want to curl up in his arms.

“It could have gone worse; he could have thrown food,” Faisal supplies unhelpfully.

“We expected this, Zee,” Griff says softly.

“I know, but I didn’t think he’d actually be so rude to you.”

“In fairness, I think he forgot that I was sitting here. He didn’t look at me once.”

“Give him some time to cool off, then go speak to him,” Faisal suggests.

***

I follow my brother’s advice. The three of us finish dinner together, and then I head to my father’s study to continue our talk.

He’s had his moment to blow up, and hopefully now he has cooled down enough to be rational.

I knock on the door, and my father grunts in response. I step inside and find him sitting in the wingback armchair with a book on his lap. It’s closed, and he’s too busy staring at the fireplace.

He doesn’t look up as I take the vacated seat opposite him.

“Dad,” I say gently. “I really like him.”

His jaw clenches, and I watch his nostrils flare as he breathes out.

“He isn’t the right fit for you.”

“Yes, actually, he is.” I straighten my shoulders and prepare to fight for my man. “Like Faisal said, he’s a really good guy. He protects me, cares about me, makes me happy. He does everything you’d want my partner to do. He treats me so well, Dad.”

There’s a long moment that drags out. I don’t know if he’s going to speak again, so I mentally prepare my next plea.

But then he breaks the silence. “You really like him?”

His face turns to mine, and our eyes lock. I nod slowly.

“Yeah, more than you know. I’ve never felt this way about someone before.”

He sighs heavily and runs his hand down his face.

“If he makes you happy… I guess I can’t ask for anything more than that.”

My shoulders drop with relief. “Thank you, Dad.” I reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know your friends might talk. I don’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Let them.” He gives me a weary smile.

***

“You’ve finally decided?” my boss asks, failing to keep the mild irritation out of her tone.

“Yes, I want to put forward the Smithson manuscript.”

“The romance?” she asks, surprised.

“Yes.”

“You weren’t keen on it when we last spoke. Why the change of heart?”

“I’ve…” I hesitate, trying to find the right words. “I’ve since been swayed. I think it will be really popular.”

“All right then, send over the revisions.”

We hang up, and I let out a sigh of relief. It’s over. I’ve selected my three.

Reading through the manuscript now, I understand completely what the author is trying to convey. Sure, the love interest says some cheesy lines, but by the end he proves through his actions that he loves the main character.

I was cynical and blinded. Griff made me realize that men like this can exist outside of fiction.