Colin M y Saturday mornings belonged to golf. My standing tee time was a true r eprieve after the demands of another difficult week. When Zach couldn’t join me, which was happening more and more often now that he had three kids and a wife, I went solo, and after the week I’d had last week, I needed the break even more than usual. With a thermos of coffee in my hand and my clubs already swung over my shoulder, I groaned out loud when my phone rang. This early on a Saturday morning, it couldn’t be good news, and when I pulled it out of my pocket to see an unfamiliar number on my screen, I genuinely wasn’t sure if I should answer. Usually, I would let it go to voicemail, but with Mallory’s trial so close and our lawyers working around the clock to pr epare, that wasn’t an option. I paused just inside of my front door, took a de ep breath, and then slid my thumb across the screen, hoping whoever it was didn’t need a meeting right away. “This is Colin Thayer,” I said once I’d pressed the device against my ear. There was a brief pause before I finally found out who it was. “Hi, Colin. It’s Deja.” My eyelids malfunctioned for a few beats, my heart suddenly pounding. “Deja?” Wow. What an articulate response. There’s a true Stanford MBA at work, folks. Clearly, no one wasted their money sending me there. “Am I calling too early?” she asked, sounding amused. “Uh, no.” I adjusted my grip on the clubs, my fingers tightening around the strap. “I was actually just on my way out the door.” I was also so surprised to hear her voice that I could barely remember my own name, but that wasn’t something she needed to know about. Especially because she seemed perfectly composed. “Where are you off to so early?” “Oh, uh, just to play golf,” I said intelligently. “I belong to a club in a suburb a little outside of town, so I’m usually up at the crack of dawn on Saturdays to make it out there in time.” “Ah. Well, I’m glad I didn’t wake you,” she said. “Do you think I could come with?” I nearly dropped my clubs. “You want to play golf?” “I’d love to.” “Then you can absolutely come.” Deja laughed, the sound quiet but genuinely amused. “Excellent. Pick me up from Gabrielle’s?” I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “How long do you need?” “I’m ready now,” she said, once again surprising the crap out of me. “I’m not much for sle eping in either. My body clock rarely allows it.”
“Okay, then,” I said, dragging out the words since I was trying to push past the shock of this entire exchange. “I’ll see you soon.” “See you soon,” she said happily, then disconnected the call and left me to spend the next twenty minutes trying to find my brain enough to be able to drive and remember the address of the house Khaled owned, but his mother-in-law lived in. Eventually, I’d recovered enough that I was pulling up outside the house to find her already waiting for me on the front porch. She hadn’t been kidding about being ready either. In linen slacks, sneakers, and a bright orange, fancy-looking sweater, she’d pulled her thick black hair up and even donned a cap. The sight of her threatened to take my breath away and, if I was being completely honest, it turned me on too. Inconvenient but true. The woman was strikingly beautiful with curves in all the right places and an almost constant slight smirk on her full lips—and she was waiting for me. To play golf. That was double hot. “Good morning,” she said as I climbed out and walked around to open the passenger door for her. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.” “Morning,” I managed without sounding like a complete idiot. “I’m happy to do it. I just didn’t know you golfed or I would’ve invited you before.” “Oh, I don’t,” she said lightly, pumping her eyebrows at me before sliding into the seat and buckling up. I stared at her for a beat, finally realizing that might explain why she didn’t have any clubs or really any baggage at all exc ept for a small purse. “Why did you want to come golfing with me if you don’t golf?” She smiled up at me, sunglasses already in her hand, but she didn’t put them on just yet, choosing instead to slay me with those golden eyes for a long moment. “It felt like a good day to learn.” My eyebrows jumped up, but then I laughed and shook my head. I shut the door and walked back around to the driver’s side. A good day to learn. Right. This is either going to be awesome or a complete disaster. Since my preferred club was a little outside the city, the drive took nearly forty-five minutes. We stopped for coffee and breakfast sandwiches along the way, and Deja seemed genuinely interested in everything from the sandwich to the industrial parks and stretches of open space we passed once we got out of the suburbs. As we munched on our breakfast sandwiches, I pointed toward one of the factories rising up on a massive section of land visible from the highway. “That’s one of Thayer’s manufacturing facilities. It’s a steel processing plant.” Her head immediately turned and she leaned slightly toward the window. “That’s really yours? It’s enormous.” “It’s one of ours,” I said, feeling strangely smug about it. “That’s not even close to the biggest one, though.”
As soon as the words were out, she turned to face me with both eyebrows swe eping up, and I realized I’d just sounded like an insufferable bragger. Deja laughed when I let out a soft groan. “You’re incredibly proud of that, aren’t you?” “I’m not usually, but it’s also been a while since anyone has been impressed by anything having to do with a Thayer,” I said dryly. “Other than our association to the Westwoods, of course. People are constantly impressed by that.” “Well, I’m impressed. That’s quite the facility. It’s no wonder Khaled is so eager to get into business with you.” An unfamiliar sense of satisfaction and pride sw ept through me, so foreign after so long that I barely recognized it at first, but it also made me feel a little more at ease about the impending merger discussions. Part of me had been questioning Khaled’s motives for agreeing with Alex about this, but perhaps there was nothing more to it than Thayer simply having the infrastructure they needed. When we reached the country club, the staff knew me so well that checking in took less than a minute, but then we reached the cart rental desk and the attendant grinned at me. He was a young guy, chatty and friendly. I usually loved talking to him for a bit before I headed out onto the course, but as soon as I saw that grin, I knew I was going to regret bringing her to the desk with me. “Mr. Thayer, you finally brought someone to your tee time,” he said excitedly. “I love that for you.” I exhaled a heavy breath through my nose, but Deja blinked rapidly, understanding dawning on her face. She spun to look up at me. “I crashed your solo time, didn’t I?” The attendant’s eyes widened and he quickly busied himself with his work, obviously realizing just a few seconds too late that he might’ve embarrassed me, but the damage was done and I wasn’t the type to hold it against him. Instead, I simply thanked him for the keys and led her toward the waiting cart. “It’s really okay. Don’t worry about it.” She nodded, but the revelation was obviously bothering her. “I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t realize.” “Don’t be sorry.” When she opened her mouth again, I stopped her from apologizing a second time by saying the first thing that popped into my head—which just so happened to be the truth. “Your phone call was the best part of my week.” It was only when she stopped walking to stare up at me that I realized I’d actually said that out loud, but then she smiled, and the sight of it left me feeling unexpectedly light and warm as we headed toward the practice range. Fortunately, it provided an immediate distraction, both of us forgetting about my admission when it became apparent that Deja was unbelievably bad at golf. She had no hand-eye coordination to speak of and
the whole beginner’s luck thing didn’t seem to apply to her at all. Her first swing missed the ball entirely. The second made contact but only sent the ball rolling a few feet across the grass. When the third launched a chunk of turf farther than the ball itself, I pressed my lips together to ke ep from laughing. She finally lowered the club and sighed as she glanced at me. “It’s okay. You can laugh. This is harder than it looks.” “No, trust me. You’re making it look extremely difficult.” She arched a ste ep eyebrow at me, even pulling off her sunglasses so I could see the disbelief shimmering in her eyes. “Okay, you might not be laughing, but it’s only because you’re trying very hard not to.” Being called out on it shattered my composure and a laugh es caped, but to her credit, as soon as I started laughing, so did she. “God, this is terrible. I look ridiculous.” “You look great.” I shrugged. “Your swing? Not so great. But it’s your first time. Just relax and try again.” She sighed but slid her sunglasses back on and tightened her grip on the club. Her level of determination over the next few minutes was admirable, but her actual ability did not improve. Eventually, I set down my own club and took a st ep closer to her. “Can I show you something?” “You can certainly try, but don’t take it personally if it doesn’t work,” she said. “I’m starting to think Khaled might’ve inherited all the golfing genes our family pool had to offer.” I chuckled and moved in behind her to adjust her stance, realizing the moment I did that I’d unwittingly put myself in incredibly close proximity to her. The scent of her tickled my nose, and through sheer force of will, I k ept myself from sneezing. Physically guiding her through a swing meant that her ass was only a fraction of an inch away from my body. Her shoulders brushed against my chest when I leaned forward to correct her grip. A strand of her dark hair lifted in the breeze, sending a whiff of her shampoo—but thankfully no perfume—into my lungs on my next inhale. Acutely aware of every move she made, I guided her club through the swing. My concentration suffered because of the warmth of her radiating into me as I helped her through the rotation. My entire body was suddenly filled with electricity. Even breathing didn’t come naturally anymore with the soft curve of her hips under my palms when I showed her how to move. Seconds away from embarrassing myself even more than I already had, I finally took a couple st eps away and sw ept a hand out toward the range. “Okay. Try that.” Deja paused a beat before she inhaled a de ep breath, turned, and swung. This time, the ball lifted cleanly into the air, traveling forward instead of sideways this time. While no professional golfer would’ve thought it was a great shot, that didn’t matter.
Genuine, surprised laughter tumbled out of her as she watched the ball soar across the range. She set down her club and lifted her fists into the air. “I did it!” “You really did.” “Did you see that?” she asked excitedly. “I hit it.” She broke into a celebratory dance that lasted longer than the shot deserved, but I didn’t care. Watching her move and actually have fun was way better than anything else happening on the range. Although the way those hips could roll wasn’t something I could allow myself to think about too much right now. Eventually, we headed out onto the course and I realized then that she truly had almost no interest in golf itself. She loved the golf cart, though, far more interested in testing its limits than playing the game. By the fourth hole, I’d acc epted I would be playing alone while she drove, apparently determined to find out whether the club enforced speed limits. I chuckled when I climbed in again, turning to face her and loving the wide grin on her lips. “You’ve never driven one of these before?” I asked. She thought it over for a beat before she shook her head. “I’ve been in many, but never behind the wheel. They’re so much fun, though. I’m definitely getting one for the estate when I get back to Cairo.” “The estate?” “It’s where we live,” she explained vaguely, already testing the acceleration again as we shot forward toward the next hole. “It’s a gated community. Some even refer to it as the Saad Manor, but it’s not that stuffy and we’re not the only ones who live there.” While I played the next few holes, we chatted on and off about everything and nothing, but when we eventually reached the ninth hole, I realized I was over golf for the day. I wasn’t paying much attention to the game anymore either and Deja certainly didn’t care. “Let’s go grab some lunch,” I said when I climbed back into the cart. “There’s a diner a few blocks away that’s even better than the clubhouse.” It also has less prying eyes, but I didn’t add that part. She turned toward me, surprisingly not pulling away immediately. “That was only nine holes. Are you sure you’re done? I don’t mind if you want to go the full eighteen. We might need to recharge this cart battery, though.” “Nah, I’m craving a burger and I’m sure you’re getting hungry too.” She shrugged. “I would’ve survived, but I’ll never say no to food.” With that, she finally punched her foot down on the accelerator again and sped us back to the clubhouse faster than I’d ever gotten there before. After returning the cart, I drove us to the nearby diner. The booths were showing decades of wear, but the food truly excellent. “Wow.” Deja pulled off her cap and sunglasses as we walked in. Her eyes sparkled as she looked around, and I led her to a booth beside the window. “This looks like a real American diner.” I frowned. “That could be because it is a real American diner. Is it your first time?” She nodded enthusiastically. “We haven’t eaten out much since we’ve been here. Gabrielle is an excellent cook and she loves it, but because she lives alone, she doesn’t get much opportunity to cook the way she likes.”
“So she makes enough food to feed an army at every meal while you’re here?” I guessed. Deja nodded, immediately opting for the French toast when a menu was snapped down in front of her. “Oh, I’d like to try that.” “It’s usually a breakfast dish,” I warned before I ordered my burger. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” “Definitely.” She grinned at me from across the table, so happy that the sight was just about blinding. “I’ve always wanted to try it.” “You never have?” “No. I’ve had the option to, obviously. I’ve just never pulled the trigger. Today seems like a good day for trying new things. Let’s hope the French toast is better than my golfing.” We laughed, and before we knew it, the food arrived. After the first bite, her eyes widened and she hummed out a moan, her eyes even sliding shut. Naturally, my entire body tensed at the sound, but I inhaled a de ep breath and commanded myself to calm the fuck down. “This is so familiar,” she said after she’d swallowed. “It tastes like a sweet dish from back home, Om Ali. I mean, it’s different, but similar.” “Different how?” I asked, then ate my burger while she explained that their version of the dish was dipped in sweetened milk flavored with spices rather than egg. After that, our conversation drifted naturally toward me learning more about Egypt. “I’ve never been, but I’ve always been fascinated by the history and the culture.” Deja turned out to be an amazing storyteller, but I’d also never met anyone who spoke about their home the way she did. It immediately became clear that she loved her country with every fiber of her being as she told me about the cities, the markets, the history, and the Nile. “You should come visit sometime,” she said, so casually that it caught me off-guard. My eyebrows shot up. “You want me to come visit you in Egypt?” “Yes, of course.” She smiled. “I’ll show you everything there is to see and then some. You’ll love it.” “Then I’ll come,” I said. She started talking again and I just leaned back and listened. Sitting here with her, I forgot all about the shitty week I’d had and all the pressure I was facing at work and on the family front. Instead, it felt like I was planning a trip with her, already getting excited to visit the places she’d mentioned and to explore the country that seemed to be part of her soul. When we were finally done eating, Deja rested her chin on her hand and smiled at me across the table. “What should we do now?”
I blinked at her, trying to remember the last time I’d spent a whole Saturday away from work. In my entire adult life, I wasn’t sure I’d ever not gone into the office on a weekend, but I didn’t even want to think about that right now. “Well, it sounds like you’ve spent a lot of time at Gabrielle’s house since you’ve been here. Is there anything you’d particularly like to see before you go home?” Those golden eyes lit up and she leaned across the table, holding my gaze so intently that my mouth practically dried up. “Sure. There’s just one more thing I need to see.” “What’s that?” I asked. “Everything.”