The Sheikh's Fantasy Girl - Completed.

Chapter Twelve

Andie spun on her feet and headed off in another direction and didn't stop until she practically fell into her room, slamming against the closed door, heart thundering, tears trickling down pale cheeks. He wasn't the man she had thought he was. Her handbag went flying into a chair as she fled to the bathroom, scrubbing her face clean, stripped and changed, getting ready for bed.

Alone in bed mocked her. Sighing, she rolled over, clutching at a pillow. She had been kidding herself and had no idea how much more she could take. Tomorrow, she would need to get completely away. If she saw that woman again, she probably would drown her in the bloody pool, the cow!

Slamming a fist into the pillow.

That night she didn't sleep well. There were dark rings under her eyes, looking worse for wear, spending the morning on the balcony of her room, looking out across the desert that she cursed because she was trapped here when all she wanted to do was run home. 

Her emotions were all over the place.

Her phone rang and she picked up. "Yes," she answered in a tight voice.

"What is this about you paying for your meals?!" 

She shut him down. 

He was always angry at her, and he had no right to be. She just didn't care anymore and wanted to get back to work, so she could go back home. The phone rang again and she looked at the name and answered.

"Miles? What can I do for you?"

"First thing, stop feuding with our producer. This can't go on any longer. You have to work with the man, and he's the one with the money."

"I don't believe this! He went to you, behind my back. What a wimp!" She fumed and then took a deep, calming breath. "As you wish, I would be civilised, but that is all."

"Good, we are having a meeting in five, so be there."

"Where?" He passed on a room number. A suite, not a room, on the other side of her, upper level. Dread filled her stomach. "Give me fifteen minutes. I need to get dressed, and find the place." She knew exactly what area it was. She shut down the phone. "Crap!" 

Pushing out of the chair, she saw to makeup, hiding the evidence of lack of sleep, changing into jeans and a three-quarter lacy grey top layered over Georgette with bell sleeves. Pulled her hair up into a loose looped ponytail, grabbed her gear, and headed out.

As she approached closer her heart sunk lower and lower, feeling physically sick. The last place she wanted to be. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she knocked on the door; heart in her throat, though was relieved when a butler opened the door. "Miss May?"

"Yes."

"This way." They entered, walking past the main bedroom, and entered an open area, through the main living area towards an undercover large balcony area that was crowded. Hearing voices before she saw them, made her feel slightly better, entering the large balcony area, and found the director, actors, assistants, and Shihab, who was involved in a deep conversation with the director.

Andie took a chair off to the side and pulled out the script.

"So glad you could make it," Shihab noted. She looked across. He wasn't even looking at her, flicking through the pages.

"Sorry if I am late."

"Help yourself to whatever you want, and then we shall get down to business. We have already lost two days of shooting. Let's get all these details ironed out so that when we go back to the set tomorrow, we can get straight into it." 

Kathie sneaked in and settled in without a word being said to her, Andie couldn't help noticing miffed. Of course, Kathie was the star, and she was only the damn writer, grunting.