M7 by Yves Saint Laurent.
I could recognize it anywhere - even when it was mixed with such a strong stench of cigarettes. But it was too strong not to be recognized anyway; he’d obviously just sprayed it before he left his car.
I imagined his piercing blue eyes and pitch black hair. I imagined his baby skin and unshaven face. I imagined his bad boy attractiveness that I faced every morning and pretended didn’t appeal to me.
But I didn’t flinch, never mind stop.
Mally 5elga elyom.
“9ba7 el5air Haya”
Did I really think I could avoid him when he was in the elevator I was talking to the same place he’s headed? I smiled at my own stupidity. Then, I stopped and turned around to face him.
His eyes were exhausted and his hair was messy. The skin underneath his eyes was darker than the snow white rest of him. He was wearing a pair of worn out jeans and a tshirt. It was the first time I’ve seen him dressed casually, and there was something so sexy about the look he was pulling off.
I knew he would see the spark in my eyes the moment I looked at him, and I knew I would rather die before giving him that knowledge. I forced myself to think of how highly I disliked him. He looks unprofessional, clumsy, tired, exhausted, terrible – that was it, terrible!
“Dude…you look terrible.”
He smiled. That sly smile of his. The kind of smile that made you wonder what the hell he was thinking. The type that you couldn’t tell was genuine, sarcastic, bemused or simply bored his mind out.
“This is what waking up at 7 does to me. I’ll never understand how you do it day after day”
I’m not a lazy bum like you, that’s how.
“Did Nasser talk to yet?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m headed to his office now”
I paused for a second, then continued.
“Oh, so that’s why your Excellency has graced us with your presence so early"
That smile again.
“Shisalfa Haya?”
“Wallah madree M7ammad, bs something tells me it can’t be good”
“Oo laish bs yabeena ana oo entay?”
“Madree meno galek esmy Nasser” I said sarcastically.
“Zain yala emshay 5anroo7la” he said, signaling for me to enter the elevator. I was gazing into his eyes so intensly that I oversaw the fact that he had been holding the door open for me this entire time. When I entered, his cigarette breath got stronger and it gave me a migraine. I held my breath till we got to the CEO’s office. I grieved the waste of M7 that I could’ve been inhaling right now.
The moment the elevator door opened in the 12th floor, we were greeted by Nasser’s secretary.
Or should I say M7ammad was greeted by Nasser’s secretary?
“9aba7 elward estaz M7ammad…keefak?”
“Wallah el7amdella Rana…entay shlonich?”
“Kteer mnee7a…keef baddy 2ol ‘3air shi eza yawmy beda bshawftak?” she said, and I thought I saw her wink.
He smiled.
There was a moment of awkward silence.
I cleared my throat.
“Dector Nasser mntezrak mn sa3et elda2ait 3laik el9be7”
She got up to knock on his door, swinging her hips a little too conspicuously as she walked towards it. He checked her out, not even bothering to try and hide it infront of me
Then again, I couldn’t blame him. Nearly every female that knew M7ammad (or had heard of him for that matter) was all over him. He was the eligible bachelor in town. He came from a well-known rich family. He was educated and open-minded. He was smart and witty. To top it all, though, his mom was American, and he’d inherited his stunningly good looks from her.
Those eyes – those mesmerizing blue eyes.
I personally didn’t like M7ammad. He was a daddy’s boy who always had to get what he wanted. Whether that was a job that someone else worked really hard to get or a girl that he would later dump, none of that mattered as long as he was pleased by the end of the day. It was always him first, then the rest of the world.
He did have that charm though, the kind that left everyone on their tiptoes. I had to admit it. At some point, the little naughty boy in him even got to me. But I knew his type too well to succumb to my desires. He was the type who thought they had every right to treat people like crap just because they were superior to them. I couldn’t stand that.
But why God why did he have to smell so amazing?
Dr. Nasser was on the phone when we entered. He signaled for us to sit down, and continued what seemed to be a very distressing phone call. He looked at me a couple of times and rolled his eyes. Then he looked at M7ammad and shot himself with the gun he made out of his palm. We couldn’t help but smile.
A few minutes later, he got off the phone and looked at the sea through the window. He took a deep long breath and let it out. Then, he looked back at us and smiled. Like his smile, his eyes were tired and worn out. In these past few weeks, I’ve witnessed this young man at-heart age 50 years. The recent crashings were affecting him, the company and our customers deeply. I wished there was something I could do to help him through it.
Dr. Nasser had always been a fatherly figure to me, and had helped me many times throughout my career. Despite the fact that I was an economics major, I had always had a passion for marketing. It was Dr. Nasser who motivated me to pursue a career in marketing, and assigned me to a job with the marketing team to encourage me further. I knew I was one of his favorite employees. He always liked and supported persistent people who went to all extremes to achieve their goals.
Why he liked M7ammad though, was beyond my comprehension.
“Did he come out here straight out of bed?” he said, referring to M7ammad and looking at me.
I smiled.
“Matshoof Haya ya7lailha yaya mzaheba oo kash5a oo shakilha mayfashil elsharika etha shafha a7ad?”
“Its 7 in the morning ya3ny shatbeeny asawy?”
“I want you to explain to me why the Finance Director mo ga3d ydawem at 7am if the company lost 7.8 million KD in the last two weeks”
M7ammad lowered his gaze and looked at his Nikes in shame.
“Elmohem, ana mo yaybk hnee 3shan azefk. I know none of this is your fault. Ana yayebkom elyom mn fayer allah 3shan agoolkom 3la suggestion, oo I want you to help me decide on what to do”
M7ammad looked up at him. He continued.
“The University of London is organizing a crash course on Crisis Management because of the recent crashings starting after tomorrow and lasting 10 days. I think it might be very beneficial if you guys went there and came back with some ideas on how to save our company and maneuver through this mess. What do you think?”
I looked at M7ammad for a few moments.
“I think it might be a good idea. After all, the European markets aren’t crashing as badly as the US markets, so maybe knowing their strategies would help us here”
M7ammad nodded.
“Then you guys are headed to London tomorrow. I want the head of each department to go too. That means Layla, Waleed and Khalid. Do you think that’s enough, or do you think you should take more people?”
“I think that’s more than enough”
“Excellent. I’ll talk to Rana now so she can arrange everything for you.”
M7ammad spoke.
“Are you sure you can afford to ship us off for 10 days hal7azza? The market isn’t getting any better, you know”
“7asesny enna your presence here is making it better 7amood” he teased.
We got up to leave. When we got to the door, Dr. Nasser called us.
“Agool…”
We turned around.
“Things are pretty bad. I want you two to come back with good news.”
We nodded. As we left his office, we heard him on the intercom asking Rana to arrange our traveling plans.
“Sho? Baddak troo7 3a london?”
“Ee inshallah” he said
“Meen baddak ta5od ma3ak?”
“Wallah so far, ana oo Haya oo a few more people”
She looked at me from head to toe, clearly disgusted.
“Ma baddak 7adda yratblk she’3lak honeek?”
“Wallah I’ll see…ymkn a7achy my secretary tyee weyay etha kilish kilish”
Her face turned into the deepest shades of red. A broad smile made its way to my lips. I love how he caught her off-guard. That should teach her not to throw herself onto people like that.
She looked at me with flaring eyes when she saw the smile on my face. Even though everyone (including herself) knew that nothing in the world could turn me off more than the idea of me and M7ammad, the little naughty girl in me decided to make an appearance just to piss her off.
“7amood, yala tra warana ashya2 wayed…we don’t have time to waste!” I said, as I walked towards the elevator, not looking back.
As he followed me to the elevator, we talked about our travel arrangements. Given the not-so-functional state he was in, I suggested he went home and slept. I told him I would coordinate with Rana myself, and call Layla, Waleed and Khalid to tell them what was happening.
But it wasn’t those three calls that I dreaded. It was the one I had to make to 3abdallah that ate me from the inside out.
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