Breeding Dylan

12: Community for Dylan

We got home and barely had time for a nap when Tareq's mother came to tell us to get ready for the formal. A worker came in behind her holding a hang up bag with my tuxedo fresh from the tailor.

"We can skip if you are too tired, my love." Tareq offered, but I kind of needed some excitement.

We went to shower and get dressed up together in his bathroom. A stylist came in and gave us quick haircuts. She applied a little eyeliner and powder on me that made my skin glow.

The tuxedo actually looked really hot on me. It was like high school prom if I'd grown up in a better neighborhood. The stylist fixed my hair in this smooth swoop style that I always thought about doing but didn't know how.

For the first time here I felt like a hot guy who belonged rather than the poor kid or the pregnant kid. Tareq looked so hot. He didn't need any help or styling. This was routine for him.

We got into the limo with his parents and went to a huge hotel complex built on a peninsula that jutted out into the bay or gulf or whatever this water was called.

"You look very nice," Mr. Zakar offered as we drove up to the entrance.

"Thank you, sir. Your wife chose for me. She has impeccable taste." It was time to mend fences with Mrs. Zakar if I was going to survive here.

"You look wonderful," Mrs. Zakar added.

"He does. I will keep him close to avoid predators." Tareq put his arm around me.

The celebration was on the top floor of the hotel. It was half indoors and half out with a huge rooftop patio that offered views of most of the kingdom.

"What is this celebration for?" I asked as we walked in. There was an elaborate set up with a bar, buffet, dance floor, and tables. A DJ was playing some Arabian music with a catchy beat.

"The son of a powerful sheikh, Omar Altani, is to be married. The couple is there." He pointed towards a tall nerdy guy with his arm around a bejeweled princess with a beautiful dress and gorgeous face.

"He's marrying her? Why?" I whispered though the music was loud enough to cover my tackiness.

"Her father is one of top tech developers in Indonesia. The sheikh looks to bring major investments and pay big for his connections." Tareq looked uncomfortable with gossip.

"I hope he's nice to her." I felt bad. She didn't look happy about this.

"He is nice enough to turn blind eye that she brings her female lover to live here with them," Mrs. Zakar was ready to dish. She pretended to straighten my bow tie while she talked.

"No way!" I looked over at her.

"That is what I hear. She is forced to marry man so she find one who will give her freedom. The girl is listed as her personal assistant. They know this country does not permit paparazzi so her privacy will be maintained until they make appearances abroad." Mrs. Zakar has all the details. She laughed at my shocked expression.

"Your mother spilled the tea with me! She likes me," I told Tareq when we made our way to the dance floor.

"She spills tea on you? I help you clean it. There is restroom here." Tareq started to walk back.

"No. She spilled the tea. That's saying she gossiped. It means she's really trying with me. Maybe she wants a good relationship between us for the baby. I'm so happy!" I was feeling hopeful.

"My boy is so innocent! I love this! You misunderstand. She knows she need new tactic. My father love you, I love you, and you carry my only heir. She plays smart. Is why my mother is queen of all social circle. She is very feared. You are kind to not keep the grudge. My boy is too good for that. She see you have value now." He kissed me and pulled me out to dance with him.