The Sheikh's Fantasy Girl - Completed.

Chapter Five

It was nearly nine when she paused.

Close to two hours and three thousand words. The most she had written in such a short time, however, she was on a roll. Bringing down her writers' programme she wiggled towards the trolley and lifted one of the covered plates, suddenly hungry. Italian.

Why did he have to go and spoil it by ordering her favourite food and probably cold? Grabbing a plate and fork also a napkin that she spread across the bed, she dug into the lukewarm creamy fettuccine carbonara that was still so delicious, her miff dispensing. 

She needed to get over herself and do her job.

Perhaps, what she needed to do was research. She researched everything, finding out what her new job entailed. Something she should have done earlier, but had been too focussed on the man at hand. He was a producer like an editor. She would take his advice, do her job, and head home. Time to get back into reality. Her family always called her a dreamer. Time to get her head out of the clouds and face life head-on. 

She can do this. Had to do this or she'd be mud.

Well, they would never ask her to do this again. To be honest, she wasn't going to, no matter what Shihab said or asked. It was far too stressful just thinking about it. She just wanted to write. Even when she had handed in a manuscript, it had many edits to have a finished product, all about tightening up the story and fixing those holes in the storyline, it was stressful. 

Shihab had only ever seen the finished, polished end product, never the raw one. He would run a mile if he had, and she never let anyone read her stuff until it was finished, polished and raring to go.

"What's going on Andrea?"

Her fork dropped onto her empty plate. "Um, eating dinner," then frowned. "I had thought you had gone out to dinner," she stated without anger, glancing across. "About before I didn't mean anything. I never thought you were a playboy putting a line on me." Colour flooded her cheeks. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to insult you. I should have taken the kind gesture for what it was."

He closed his eyes briefly, rubbing a hand across his forehead, then looked down at her earnest expression. He shook his head. "Forget it, Andrea," he said softly. "All is forgotten," he reinforced with a smile. "And I wasn't out to dinner. I had an emergency meeting. I don't want to disturb whatever you were doing."

"Sorry," she smiled brightly, forced. "Got struck by an idea." After the facts, but obviously, he brought it. He frowned, crossing over at the untouched food still on the trolley, only having that one serve.

"So I see."

"Delish," she grinned at him, meaning it. He eyed off the bottle of wine, not opened. She followed his gaze. "Oh, hope you don't mind. I paid for it with cash," she added.

Shaking his head, he crossed over closer and sat down on the bed at her side. "I am not going to win with you. Whatever you want, you can have, however, if you still want to go to the fountain show, I would advise no more of that until after the show. I don't want you to pay for anything," he added.

"I am staying here without pay. Everything we have done, you have paid for it."

"I did not pay for your souk items," he pointed out with hope.

"With arguments, okay Shihab, can't I even just pay for anything we do, because I want to treat you? I am not challenging you or your manhood, maybe, I just want to say thank you, not insult you Shihab. I'm sorry if I did." He mumbled something under his breath, she eyed him closely. 

He held up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, next time you want to pay, I will not argue on the condition we are not doing this again," he waved between them.