Irrevocably

22 | For Hoor

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No challenges this time. You guys have worked overtime. But keep up with your lovely and funny comments! I really enjoy reading them all.

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Hooriya

"Hey, Hooriya! Just to remind you that you're going to helping Mohib in his workshop! He wants to know if you're coming in today?" Lena's words made me freeze.

Oh, crap. I'd forgotten to ask Lena if I could still change, and now it might be too late. "Lena, actually... Is it possible if I work alongside you instead?" She's going to think that I'm so unprofessional!

"Is everything okay, Hooriya?" She sounded puzzled.

"I just thought..." I thought of an excuse...anything but the truth. I didn't want to make accusations about Mohib being creepy without any evidence to back me up. "You are the one who will be training me, so I should help you out." 

"Sure, that shouldn't be a problem, Hooriya. I'll let Mohib know."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any inconvenience." 

"No worries, Hooriya. I'll see what I can do, okay?" She reassured me in her warm and friendly voice.

"Thank you, Lena. And I will be in later." 

"Okay, see you later then! Bye, Hooriya." 

As the call ended, I headed towards the dining area. As I entered, I saw Farhaan speaking to a chef. He saw me enter and gave me a smile that made me almost melt into a puddle right there. Smiling back at him, I headed towards the table that I had chosen the day before as well and sat down.

Farhaan came over and sat down opposite me. "What would you like, Mrs Farhaan?"

"I'd like to see the menu, please." I told him.

"No. Today you'll get whatever you want to eat, custom made." He smiled at me. 

"Seriously?!" I raised both eyebrows at him. "What's with the special treatment? Do you treat all your guests this way?"

He just smiled. "Tell me what you want, Hoor. That really talented chef will make anything for you."

I shrugged. "Just buttered toast and a cup of tea." 

"That's all?" He looked surprised.

"Sometimes simple things are the most delicious." I reached for his hand which rested on the table and traced my fingertips across his watch.

"How many watches of mine do you want?" He looked amused as he gazed down at my hand.

"All of them. Because I have a large amount of right over your time now." I clasped our hands together, propping my elbow up onto the table.

"Arm wrestling? Really?" 

"What happened? Afraid of losing?" I gave him a teasing smile.

Our gazes locked, our hands tightly clasped together, we prepared for this test of strength. His bicep bulged and I felt myself weakening at the sight. But I ignored my weakness and focused on putting my full strength into this little battle. His strong hand easily seemed to engulf my henna-covered hands. My fingers seemed almost delicate in his grip. I tried my best to move his arm, but it didn't move even a little. A corner of his mouth lifted up in a smirk, his gaze reflecting his amusement. The contrast between our arms was almost hilarious. He worked out regularly, I was very well aware of that. Meanwhile, the only arm exercises I did was when I lifted up books onto the top shelf of my bookshelf.