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I waved off her apology with a smile. “Really it’s fine, Abena. And please, just call me Veronica.” I gestured towards the steaming cups on the table. “I ordered chai tea for us.”
“That’s perfect, thank you,” she said, her smile widening as she took a seat. She set her phone on the table, a serious yet warm look crossing her face. “I might have to take a call—if it comes, I promise it’ll be quick. It’s just for an issue I am trying to resolve with a big event. It would be rather rude to be on the phone while having tea with the Princess of Kastonia.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Tell me, how was the wedding yesterday?”
“It was wonderful, truly emotional,” Abena responded, her eyes lighting up. “A good friend’s daughter got married. It was a beautiful celebration.”
“That sounds lovely,” I replied. “Are Zanzibari weddings similar to Egyptian weddings?”
“Very much so,” she nodded. “Lots of dancing, delicious food—sambusa, kebabs, biryani. And interestingly, sometimes guests even get takeaway food boxes to enjoy later.”
“You’re kidding!” I exclaimed, amused.
“Not at all,” she laughed. “We had the leftovers for lunch today. Oh, and each table even had its own cake!”
“I love that idea,” I commented, genuinely intrigued. “Sounds like a celebration I would have enjoyed.”
“We have quite a bit in common,” Abena noted, shifting the conversation. “We both pursued master’s degrees in agriculture, mine in Cairo and yours in Copenhagen. Plus, we both have younger brothers.”
I nodded. “You’ve done your homework. Anything else?”
“Yes—we both share a rebellious streak against arranged marriages in the family,” Abena added with a chuckle.
“Okay, now I am dying to hear your story, if you don’t mind sharing.”
“Don’t mind at all,” she said. “My parents had chosen a man for me, one solely based on his financial status. I told them I didn’t care about how much he had in the bank, and that I would only marry for love.”
“I like you already,” I said with a grin. “I told my parents the same thing. How did your parents respond?”
“They kicked me out of the house,” Abena said with a casual shrug. “Then I proved that I did not need their help to have a happy and fulfilling life. I enrolled in the university, got my master’s degree, made a name for myself in the agricultural industry, and then eventually fell in love with a humble and handsome orange farmer I met at a conference. He now earns far more than the man they had wanted me to marry. Darius is the love of my life.”
“That is wonderful,” I said. “And what do your parents think now?”
“The only thing they talk about these days is wanting grandchildren,” she said with a laugh.
“Why am I not surprised?” I said with a smile, then froze. “Oh, no …”
“What’s wrong?” Abena asked.
“Two men from the other night just came in,” I said. “They wouldn’t leave me and Daphne alone. I want to apologize to you in advance, in case they say something completely inappropriate.”
Abena smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I know how to handle men like that.”
“Well, if it isn’t the beach beauty and her mysterious new friend,” Scum drawled, his eyes gleaming as he sauntered over. “Did you miss us?”
As much as I miss a migraine …
“We were in the middle of a conversation,” I said, trying to keep my composure. “If you’ll excuse us.”
“Is that how it’s going to be?” Turd chimed in, winking as he leaned closer. “Your knight in shining armor isn’t around today, huh? Who’s your friend?”
I bit back a sharper retort. “She’s not interested. Please leave.”
“Let her speak for herself,” Scum said, then he eyed Abena. “Hey, gorgeous … are you single and ready to mingle?”
Abena stood up, her demeanor as cool as ice, but her eyes were fiery.
“Whoa!” Turd said, glancing up at her. “You’re a tall one.”
