Hi, Husband

Amelia stood at the top of the stairway at exactly 8 pm, one hour late for dinner. She chose a Roberto Cavalli dress—strapless, of course, no bra—and a pair of Louboutin nude peep-toe heels that added an extra four inches to her frame. The others present at the table were tired out from waiting but couldn't keep their appreciative gazes away as she descended.

Zaki's eyes toured the length of her legs, the curve of her waist, and the bare skin of her shoulders. Then, he noticed her hair--fiery red, waist-length long. He'd been with all sorts of women but had never fancied redheads, and he preferred his women on a lower cut. Her eyes were an icy blue and her lips were delicately curved and full. He assumed her mouth must be perfect to explore, but he wasn't interested. She had on minimal makeup yet, was still gorgeous, so he wondered why on earth she'd kept them waiting for an hour. 

The house staff sprang into action, serving the food as soon as she slipped into the seat across from him. 

"Amelia," Her father, Alfonso Rodriguez, started. "I think it's only appropriate that you apologize to our guests."

She cast a fleeting glance at Zaki and then his uncle, Ali Omidyar. "Really? What for?"

"Amelia, you--" 

"Susan!" She called out for one of their paid chefs, cutting him off. "Do you have my vegetables ready?"

The lady came forward. "Yes ma'am. I'll serve it up whenever you are ready."

"Good. Bring it up to my room the moment this..." She cast a depreciative glance at the dinner table. "...whatever it is, is over."

"Yes, ma'am."

She shooed her back in line with the other members of staff. "So," She turned to address her frowning father. "Who's my husband?"

"Your father would get to that after you've properly apologized to our guests--" Her mother pressured. "--and him."

"Fine." She smiled humorlessly. "My apologies."

Alfonso sighed. Knowing his daughter, that was the best they were getting, so he jumped into the introductions. "At the other end of the table is Ali Omidyar," He smiled at the older man. "He's an old friend and a very powerful business associate from Iran." Amelia leaned forward at the long table and sent him a plastic smile. "Across you, is his nephew, Zaki Omidyar. Your future husband."

The very second her gaze shifted to find him already inspecting her, she felt a shiver of apprehension skim down her spine.

She checked him out unabashedly. He was hotter in person. The kind of insane hotness that was only described in books. Perhaps if she wasn't so turned off by the entire situation, she would actually be ecstatic at the thought of spending the rest of her life with such a wonder among men. Perhaps she could... Amelia shook her head slightly. No, no, no. She had to focus on the million and one reason why she hated him.

She won't be bribed by good looks!

"Hii, I'm Amelia," She said a little too brightly, sending him another plastic smile. "I'm sweet, demure, fucking gorgeous, classy, and too good for you."

"But you're in luck," she continued, infusing her voice with lighthearted perkiness. "I'm feeling very charitable today."

Sarah gasped.

"Amelia!!" her parents admonished.

Zaki chuckled softly and sipped his whiskey. "Your daughter lacks manners, Alfonso."

Her father blanched. "I-I am sorry, Zaki." He cleared his throat. "My wife and I take full responsibility for her lack of grace. We were wrong to believe we raised her better."

Lips pursed, Amelia rolled her eyes in indignation. She hated how this man turned her father to jelly. "I lack manners, and you don't?"

"That's enough, Amelia," Her mother whispered.

"Don't shush me." She replied grimly. 

Ali Omidyar cleared his throat, speaking for the first time since she arrived. "Let's eat,"  He said.

"Good idea." Alfonso took out his napkins and everyone began to dig into their food. Everyone, aside from Amelia who remained offended by the brush-off from the men, fell into a pleasant conversation as more courses were served.

Twenty minutes of chewing and drinking passed and her countenance was yet to improve as she stabbed into her sautéed brussels sprout coated with bread crumbs, herbs, and cream. She knew they were trying to salvage whatever was left of the situation, but she wasn't done.

"Baby," She called out to Zaki. Sarah choked on her drink, and all eyes rested on Amelia.

"I'm not your baby." He replied coldly.

She shrugged. "Whatever, darling. I have a question."

He took another sip of his whiskey, interested, against his will, in whatever she had to say.

"By any chance, do you happen to own a gray Porsche Cayenne?" she asked.

His eyes hooded skeptically as he reclined into his seat. "Yes." 

"Hmm," She placed down the fork, cutting her gaze to his pointedly. "Were you involved in a little accident, say about two weeks ago?"

He steepled his fingers together, analyzing the direction the conversation was headed. "Yes."

"Mm-hmmm." She took a sip of her champagne. "Isn't that ironic? I mean, you waltz in here acting like the moral center of Los Angeles, calling me mannerless when you lacked the decency to--"

"Amelia!"

Her mother chided, but she held up a finger to the woman and continued. "--to check up on me after you almost ran me off the road with your stupid vehicle!"

The thick slash of his dark eyebrows pinched together. "That, was you?" He scoffed. "You?"

"Why so surprised, husband?"

He shook his head disapprovingly. "You drive like a fucking lunatic." 

She chuckled. "Well you outdistanced me, so what does that make you?"

"I had a dying relative to get to. What's your excuse?" He ping-ponged flatly. "Were you driving under the influence? Or perhaps you were high on cheap crack?"

"Have you ever seen a junkie this hot, madman? I'm Amelia fucking Rodriguez." She deadpanned. "Is that a good enough excuse for you?"

He smirked, took another sip of his drink, and eyed her. The room was quiet. Her parents were horrified, holding their breaths at the edge of their seats.

She held his gaze. Despite the unforgiving nature of his expression, a little voice whispered, he really was very good-looking--beautiful, almost. Suddenly hot and bothered, she looked away. Her body seriously had no respect for her, she thought grimly. How could she be noticing inappropriate things like this at war? Because that's what was going on here. She was at war.

"What?!" she growled.

As if knowing the effect he might have on her, he chuckled. "All through the course of the evening, I've been trying to get a measure of you as a person. You're expected to be my bride and I needed to know you're not going to prove liability. Shall I tell you what I've concluded so far?"

"Yes, please. Go ahead, fucker."

Her father reached for his wine, emptied the drink at a go, and signaled for a refill. He was seeing his life flashing before him.

"You're lazy, selfish, uncouth, and spoiled rotten to a point of disgust. I also picked up arrogant pride. A lot of it. I certainly wasn't expecting to find much of that in a... poor soul. I can also tell you're perfectly happy to carry on being that way." He enunciated each derogatory bullet point with the cold precision of a judge passing a sentence on a criminal.

"Sad." He continued. "Perhaps the reality of your new life needs to properly dawn on you for humility to set in. Poverty can be very humbling."

Amelia had never shown any inclination toward violence before, but now she could easily see herself leaping out of her chair to jump or throw something at him. She was exasperated!

"Is this dinner over?" She glanced at her father briefly, then back at Zaki. "Yes, it is. And, that being the case—" she took a deep breath that steadied her fraying nerves "—then I can tell you what I think of you too!" She looked at him with stormy blue eyes and drew herself upright in her chair. "I think we're more alike than you may care to admit. You're arrogant and rude. You think that just because you…you make a lot of money and grew up with a lot of power you can treat people any way you want to and be as offensive as you want to be. You speak to my dad like he's one of your men servants. I also think it's awful that you obviously work so hard that you have no time left over to check up on someone you almost killed! Or maybe you just don't know how to give yourself or time to anyone else!"

Her breathing was jerky from the effort of pouring emotions she'd never known she possessed into what was, for her, an all-out shouting match.

"Clearly, this union is doomed to fail." She stood up and tried to gather some shreds of dignity. "I'll be on my way."

Zaki smiled, and Amelia was so flustered by that smile that she remained rooted to the spot, dithering as though her legs had forgotten how to work.

"You have fire. I like that. You're going to need some of it should you fail to bag a rich husband. Seat."

"Wha—at?"

"Seat," he repeated.

"Oh, go to--"

"Seat down Amelia!" Her father barked. She directed her startled gaze at him, tongue glued to the roof of her mouth when she took in his appearance. His necktie had been eased back from his throat roughly, the top buttons of his shirt undone, hair disheveled and eyes filled with desperate anger.

Zaki waved her down into the chair and leaned back. "It's healthy to hear a little criticism now and again." He smiled again. "I can't remember the last time anyone raised their voice in my presence." Particularly, he could have added, when it came to women. As if a switch had been turned on in his head, he suddenly keenly noted the fading pinkness in her cheeks. Her hair had fallen forward and was now spread over her shoulders, falling like spun silk over her breasts, and down to her waist. She was regaining some of her lost composure but her breasts were still heaving.

He was shocked by the sudden responsive stirring in his loins. God, he had a girlfriend! An extremely clever, very high-powered girlfriend. One who he loved desperately. One for whom he would move mountains. Freya was diametrically, radically, and dramatically the opposite of the elfin creature with the big blue eyes sitting opposite him. He dropped his gaze to his whiskey.

A full minute of silence followed.

"Under different circumstances," He finally whispered, "I would've enjoyed the prospects of taming you through marriage, but no. I would never marry you, Miss Rodriguez. You're a liability." He pushed back his chair and walked away.

"No, no, no, no," She yelled after him. "It's I who wouldn't marry a fucking scum like you, Zaki! And what kind of name is Zaki Omidyar, anyway?" she let out an unattractive snort. "It sounds made up."

"Get out!" Her father shouted.

"Don't fucking yell at---"

"Now!" He banged his fist on the table, furious. She threw down her napkin, pushed the chair to the ground, and exited the dining room.

Alfonso was so embarrassed. He couldn't bring himself to look at Ali Omdiyar after what Amelia had just done. She'd messed him and the entire family before the most powerful family in Iran.

"Ali," His voice squeaked as he attempted to apologize. "I'm terribly--"

"Don't be." Ali Omdiyar stopped him. "The introduction is over, and it's time we moved on to the next agenda. Pick a date for the wedding, and make sure the bride is in attendance. This changes nothing."

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