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Chapter 6
Bassem stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist. He headed back into his room to get dressed. He had a small house in Austin that he had purchased. He was going to live there until his new house was built and ready for moving into.
As he was getting dressed, his cell phone rang. He picked it up from the nightstand and answered it.
“Hello,” he answered.
“Bassem, it’s your mother,” a voice sounded from the receiver.
“I know your voice, Mother.” Bassem put the phone on speaker and put it down on the nightstand.
“Well, it has been long since you called me. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t recognize my voice.”
Bassem rolled his eyes. His mother was always dramatic. “I have been tied up with work,” he replied.
“Even so, you should always make sure to call me at least once a day.”
“Once a day?” Bassem did not have that much time on his hands. He slipped into a pair of grey trousers.
“Yes. Anyway, how have you been?”
“I’ve been well.”
“Do you have a lover?”
“This is not a conversation I am willing to have with you.”
His mother burst into laughter. “You are so different to your brother. He has a new woman every other day,” she said.
“That’s his business,” he said. His mother sighed.
“I am so thankful that you have never had a scandal.”
“My brother has only had two scandals,” Bassem said.
“Two is too many!” his mother cried out. “I need the two of you to settle down this year,” she added.
“This year is a bit too soon.”
“No, it is not. You are already thirty years old. You don’t want to end up getting married at forty.”
“Forty sounds like a nice age to wed,” Bassem teased his mother.
“Do not say things like that,” she snapped. Bassem laughed. He started buttoning up his pink shirt.
“I have to go,” he said to his mother. “I have to meet with the architect in half an hour.”
“Okay. Make sure you call me more often,” she replied. Bassem hung up the phone. He brushed his hair and then slipped into his loafers. He sprayed on a little bit of cologne before he left his house.
***
Bassem arrived at Collette Architects almost twenty minutes later. The perky receptionist escorted him to Blake’s office.
“Good morning, sheikh,” Blake greeted him as he walked into her office. She was wearing a cream skirt that complemented her curves and a sky-blue striped shirt. She had her hair tied up into a tight ponytail.
“Good morning, Miss Gordon,” Bassem replied.
“Please have a seat.”
