“Add this too, please.” He spoke Turkish, knowing full well Maryan and Zara wouldn’t be able to understand.

  The shopkeeper did as he requested and quickly packed the bracelet up without alerting Maryan. She smiled knowingly when he tapped his card to pay her for the service. All of this happened in the time that Maryan was looking away.

  When she turned, she confronted a second small shopping bag identical to Zara’s on the counter over the exact spot that she’d left the bracelet.

  She looked at him instantly, her lips parting, her eyes holding a question...and an argument to return the purchase.

  He made a silent show of tucking his designer wallet inside his suit jacket. The bracelet was paid for. It was hers. A small bracelet was nothing to his immense wealth. And that wealth meant not a thing if it couldn’t be enjoyed with others. Coworkers, friends, family.

  Maryan was none of those to him. And yet she’d helped raise Zara. He owed her more than a pretty trinket.

  “Can we talk?” he asked in Somali.

  She briskly nodded and turned to answer Zara’s reaching hands and clamoring cry to see the second shopping bag.

  “I want to see your present, Maryan!” She bounced for a look but stopped when Maryan handed her the bag. They lingered in the shop until Zara talked her nanny into wearing the bracelet. Then Maryan helped Zara with her necklace. Both of them walked out of the shop wearing smiles and their new accessories.

  Faisal had to capture the moment. “Wait. Can I take a picture?”

  Maryan was shaking her head when Zara exclaimed, “Yes, please!”

  Zara posed with Maryan, who allowed him to take their pictures.

  Once he was satisfied, he slipped his phone in his pants pocket and waved Burak over to them.

  “Take Zara to the restaurant,” he said to his friend and security head.

  Zara began protesting, but he crouched down to her level and squeezed her hands. “I need to talk to Maryan quickly.”

  Maryan helped by stepping up and stroking Zara’s braids. “We’re right behind you.”

  “Promise?” Zara asked them, her bottom lip not trembling as noticeably.

  “Promise,” he said with Maryan. They traded a quick look before Burak accepted Zara’s outstretched hand and led her away from them.

  “If this is about you being late again...” she began.

  “It is, but let’s talk elsewhere.” He guided her through the populated centuries-old bazaar, down winding alleys, past ancient crumbling sections of walls and under the canopy of arched ceilings decorated with blue mosaic tiles. They emerged out of one of twenty-one entrances into the Grand Bazaar.

  Breathing the fresh air outdoors was always a treat. Especially when the breeze was tinged with aromatic flavors of spices, herbs, meats and tea.

  “Would you like a cup? It won’t spoil our appetite.”

  With their tea in hand, they found a bench in the square across from the bazaar. Nowhere near as crowded, it was the perfect place to talk to her, and he hoped to plead his case of tardiness. He didn’t know which would be more challenging to do: to lay bare his heart or give her the rundown of how he’d failed to secure his coveted partnership deal for Umar Capital Group.

  * * *

  “Where did your security guy take Zara exactly?”

  Faisal’s heart-stopping grin put her at ease as much as it set up her guard.

  “Ever heard of the internet-famous Salt Bae?” He mimed sprinkling salt and laughed breezily. “He’s got a restaurant inside the bazaar and it’s very popular. And since he’s somewhat of a national treasure and this is a tour of Istanbul...”

  The mention of the tour reminded her why they were outside and away from Zara.

  Trusting his judgment that his daughter was safe in the care of the tall, muscled bodyguard Burak, Maryan focused on delving into what she expected was his apology.

  Might as well get this over with.

  If it was going to be a half-cocked attempt at an apology, she wanted it done and over with, and preferably before her refreshing pomegranate iced tea grew too warm.

  “I’m sorry about being late. I am.” He sighed and unbuttoned his suit jacket. Shifting on the bench to face her more, he launched into an explanation. “Something came up last-minute at the office. I couldn’t leave it to anyone else. All my staff were expecting me to be there. I... It didn’t feel right to abandon them.”

  Without thinking it through, she blurted, “But abandoning your daughter was okay?”

  He pulled his handsome features into a grimace. He had to have known he walked right into that one. It stung, she bet, but it couldn’t be hurting any more than her bruised ego. She’d really believed him—trusted in him to come through for her and spend the day with Zara. This wasn’t about the tour, she’d told herself, but about whether he could be there for his daughter the way she deserved.

  For four years she’d been a rock to Zara. She’d nurtured her confidence and protected her whenever possible.

  And now she was passing that long-held torch to Faisal.

  But he’s failing.

  He was also doing a terrible job at trying to meet her tall expectations. Even the short ones, like arriving on time, were eluding him right now. If he was going to apologize, would he be passing the blame on to some ambiguous work-related problem that had cropped up conveniently at the last minute?

  “The deal’s been postponed.” Faisal looked down into his paper cup, both hands holding his tea. His face crumpled as he said, “After everyone’s effort and hard work, it all managed to fall apart anyway.”

  She only learned of this deal yesterday, but he’d made it sound important to his company.

  And to him.

  She felt bad for him. Sympathy held her irritation at bay.

  “It was going so well, too. The two brothers who own majority holding of this Turkish natural gas and oil company were happy with the partnership my company would offer.”

  “They must have explained why,” she said.

  Faisal barely sipped his cup. He touched the rim to his lips and pulled back to answer her, embarrassment coloring his tone. “They did.”

  She didn’t rush him to elucidate. Looking miserable, he glanced at the passersby in the square. Whatever it was that put the brakes on his hard-sought business deal must have been bad. Especially when it was obvious he was working up the courage to rehash the humiliating explanation.

  “I’ll show you what went wrong,” he finally said, his phone in hand. He pulled up his email and opened attached photos.

  “These are recent photos from a magazine. A popular gossip rag published all through Europe. They’d sneaked a paparazzo into the party.” He turned his phone for her to have a look at the photos attached to the email. Each photo had him in a compromising position with a different woman. The last one had him pressed between two waifish brunettes in skimpy bathing suits.

  “Where were you when this was taken?”

  “A pool party I attended last week.” He tucked his phone away.

  She’d read about him being a playboy. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he would be partying the week before his daughter arrived to live with him forever.

  Stuffing down her misplaced annoyance, and the more frustrating twinges of jealousy at seeing the photos of him embracing other women, she asked the next most logical question. “Why do they care what you do in your spare time?”

  It shouldn’t have been anyone’s business. Certainly not hers to judge what he did to unwind after a long day’s work.

  “The host was one of the Turkish brothers. Erkin is his name, and he loves partying. More than me, evidently.” His self-deprecating smile plucked her heartstrings. “I know what they call me. A playboy.”

  She didn’t confess to having believed the epithet.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured, his piercing gaze frozen on her. “It’s true. I like partying. I work hard, play harder sometimes. Not always. When it’s deserved.”

  “You didn’t answer me. Why should you have to explain what you do in your free time?” She wasn’t lauding his playboy reputation. She just didn’t feel he should be penalized for it. And he wouldn’t suffer alone. There were people he might be able to help in Somalia with his oil and natural gas project. Families and communities who would benefit from a healthy economy. Families like hers.

  “That was my mistake. I didn’t think it’d be polite to refuse the younger brother’s invitation. But it seems his older brother is more traditional than I was led to believe. They don’t want their company image tarnished by photos like the ones I showed you.”

  “So, is there hope left to save the deal?”

  He heaved a sigh. “There might be, but I’ll have to win back the older brother’s trust. Prove that I’m not just partying all day and debauching my company’s reputation.”

  “Is that all you wanted to say to me?” Maryan sensed there was more he hadn’t let her in on.

  Sighing again, he said, “Besides begging you to understand that I normally don’t break promises?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want you to think I can’t work all of this out. Fatherhood and running my business. I’m capable of doing both and not drowning.”

  His vehement statement was impressive.

  It also wasn’t enough.

  She needed to see him putting in the same effort she had no doubt he’d shown to secure his gainful business.

  Faisal turned into her a little more, the heat coming off him closer.

  “My parents moved from a small town outside of Mogadishu to Turkey thirty years ago. They were business owners in Istanbul. We lived next door to our small family bakery. On weekends, my sister and I would help them by doing whatever we could.

  “I watched them juggle us and their business, and they juggled successfully.”

  “And that’s why you believe it’ll work for you.” She hugged a bare arm around her stomach and narrowed her eyes. Everything he said about his family was a step in the positive direction.

  But it’s still not enough.

  “I have to believe it will.” He gazed at her with an intensity that made her heart pang.

  Softly, she said, “On your boat you said you wanted to try, and I believe you. But you have to actually try to be here with Zara.”

  “I will,” he vowed.

  “I’m not going to dictate your schedule to you.” She wasn’t here to tell him how to spend his time. “All I’m asking is that you find more time for Zara.”

  “I swear I will,” he repeated, a smile relaxing his face and making him painfully handsome.

  She gulped a bigger sip of her tea than planned and coughed.

  He leaned in, his hand falling on her shoulder, his fingers pressing gently. “Are you okay?”

  She had cool tangy sweet tea shoot up her nose, but it might be worth the spine-electrifying contact with him. Maryan felt a telltale blush, her dark brown skin warming to the touch and her cheeks aching in her battle to stop from smiling goofily.

  “Fine,” she murmured. “But we should head back to Zara.”

  Faisal stood and offered her a hand to help her up from the bench. As they walked back together, he shattered the silence.

  “I also hope you’ll let me give you that tour of Istanbul while you’re here with us?”

  He framed it as a question, giving her a chance to refuse. It was a brownie point for him.

  “We’ve seen the bazaar,” she said, barely recognizing the good-natured taunt in there. Who was she? Faisal’s flirty nature was rubbing off on her obviously.

  He laughed and smiled. “I know you don’t mean all of the bazaar.”

  “Some of it,” she teased.

  He guided her past the metal detectors at the bazaar’s entrance and drew close enough to bump arms with her and rattle the silver mother-of-pearl bracelet on her wrist. The bracelet he’d gifted to her.

  She turned her head and discovered his face inches from hers. Naturally a kiss wasn’t far from her mind.

  He closed the gap to her ear in a heartbeat and whispered, “Then allow me to show you more.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A FEW DAYS AGO, Maryan hadn’t believed Faisal’s promise to change all too much. She had learned through life experiences not to trust twice. First with her parents promising they’d see her soon before sending her off to live in America on her own, and then when her thieving ex-boyfriend, Hassan, robbed her and her family.

  She hadn’t placed stock in his vow to be more present and spend time with Zara.

  If she’d been a betting person, she would’ve lost a lot of money by now. Because Faisal surprised her. Not only had he shown up regularly and on time for their outings the past three days, but he’d shown them plenty of Istanbul. Never taking them to the same place twice. Always showing them a new and beautiful side to the metropolis he called home.

  And Maryan had already known this, but Istanbul wasn’t merely a concrete jungle. Pockets of green spaces were to be found all over the city. Çamlıca Hill was one of those places.

  “Let’s go on a picnic,” Faisal had said that morning.

  Zara had been more than happy with the idea.

  After Maryan had wondered whether they’d be distracting him from work, Faisal had assured her that everything that needed his personal attention was seen to before he’d asked them on the impromptu picnic. His exact words echoed in her mind.

  I’d rather spend the day outside with you and Zara than be cooped up in my office.

  It sounded like he was turning a new leaf.

  I don’t even know him.

  Certainly not well enough to know whether he had changed or not over these five days. And if the change was truly for the better or otherwise. But he hadn’t been late again. And he had managed to keep any promises he made to Zara. It didn’t matter what she thought outside of that.

  Zara was happy, and that was enough to quiet her doubts about him.

  “Maryan, look,” Zara whispered in her ear and wrapped her arms around her neck. She surprised her by coming up from behind.

  Maryan had been sitting by Faisal while Zara wandered off to explore nearby. She was enamored by the pretty rows of flower gardens lining the footpath. The path wended through the hilltop park. Zara hadn’t been alone in exploring it, either. Plenty of children loitered near the flowers, their parents and families sheltered under the umbrage of the trees scattered through the park.

  They were under one of those trees now. Sunlight pierced weakly past the net of the wild maple’s thick foliage. Even with the shade protecting them from the midafternoon sun Maryan hadn’t taken any chances. She’d packed suntan lotion to protect them all. The last thing she wanted ruining their perfect day was a sunburn.

  “Daddy’s sleeping,” she said in Maryan’s ear with a giggle.

  Maryan looked to her right to find that Zara’s reporting was true. Faisal had fallen asleep.

  They had been chatting about the city, and she’d gotten the sense that he loved Istanbul. But then they’d lapsed into a peaceful silence. She had looked away for what had felt like a handful of minutes, so it was surprising to see him sound asleep.

  He was lying on his back on the grass, his arms tucked under his head and his T-shirt stretched tight against his sculpted chest. He was nothing but lean, clean-lined muscle under his finely tailored business suits. She’d discovered over the course of the day that it was more challenging to look away from his hotness when he was wearing a casual T-shirt and denim “manpris” than it was when he was in his work wear.

  She raised her eyes up from his body to his gorgeous face. The man could’ve been a model or actor and given Salma a run for her money. Though now, Maryan understood how they’d been an item once. Two breathtakingly beautiful people gravitating to each other was a tale as old as time.

  That wasn’t jealousy souring her tongue. Rather the bitter dregs of the spices from the freshly made Turkish tea Lalam had packed for them in a thermos.

  It was pointless to be envious when Faisal would never see her like that.

  I wouldn’t want him to, anyway.

  Nothing would come from a relationship right now. And one-night stands had never been her thing. Her friends had urged her to have meaningless rebound fun after she and Hassan broke up. She wasn’t up to it. Even knowing that it would feel good to hurt Hassan. He’d been a cocky jerk. Once she’d believed his charismatic personality was the most attractive part of him. That was before she had realized how toxic his overconfidence could be to her.

  Looking at Faisal, she couldn’t help but compare his charming persona with her ex’s.

  That isn’t fair. He isn’t Hassan.

  But it didn’t change the fact that it would spell trouble for her to mingle with someone equally as magnetic as her ex-boyfriend. The thought alone soured her mouth. It made it all too clear to her that she wasn’t ready for romance yet. She wasn’t in the headspace to tangle hearts with anyone. Even someone as attractive and good-natured as Faisal.

  “Do I wake him up?” Zara moved her arms off Maryan and sat carefully by her dad.

  “No, we’ll let him sleep.” Maryan pressed a finger to her lips and watched as Zara mimed her. She shared a smile with her before glancing at Faisal’s relaxed facial features. And because she couldn’t stare at him forever, she forced her attention to her phone.

  She hadn’t answered any of her friends’ messages with any details about her trip yet. Any replies to their questions had been vague. But she knew that couldn’t last forever. She’d posted more photos to her social feed, and they had gotten plenty of hits. Hundreds of hearts and comments from friends, family and even random people who had followed her over the course of the last few days.