Read Online Power and Passion by Kay Tejani - Free Book Online Page A

marriage every moment they were
together, and, most importantly, they never took each other for
granted.
    "Do you want to take some time off?" he
asked then. "Maybe go away for the weekend?"
    Joan grinned. Once again David had read her
mind. Their regular getaway spot was the Jumeirah Beach Hotel, a
five-star resort they managed to visit once a month or so. Joan
just loved the place; the building itself was shaped just like an
ocean wave, and the service was impeccable. She and David would
spend entire days just lounging under an umbrella on the golden
sands of the resort's private beach, gazing at the clean,
clear-blue water. They would swim a little and read a little, and
the hotel staff would bring them cocktails and fresh juices and
towels. For dinner they would head to one of the hotel's
restaurants—the Arabic Al Khayal, where a belly dancer was always
performing, or to La Parilla for some Latin American cuisine, live
music, and tango dancers. Afterward they might go to the Uptown Bar
on the twenty-fourth floor to listen to the piano player and take
in the view of the Burj Al Arab hotel and Dubai's striking skyline.
Then there was the spa, the sports, the amazing breakfasts… Just
the thought of going lifted Joan's spirits.
    "Absolutely," she replied and clinked her
wine glass against David's.
    He took a sip then said, "I'll make the
reservations in the morning."
    "Thank you, dear," Joan replied and reached
out to squeeze his hand. Just as she touched him, the phone rang,
the shrill sound filling the quiet room. Joan and David glanced at
one another, each with an eyebrow raised. The phone seemed always
to be ringing in their home, usually business calls for one or the
other of them or their children and grandchildren giving them a
ring. Joan put down her wine on the glass-topped coffee table and
stood up, hoping it would be the latter this time.
    "Hello?" she answered. There was a silent
pause. She was about to repeat her greeting when she heard a
tentative female voice speak.
    "Hi, is this Joan? Joan Harrison?"
    "Yes, it is," Joan replied as she walked
back over to the sofa with the phone. She took a seat once again
next to David, who watched her, waiting to find out who it was.
Joan shrugged. She had no idea just from the sound of the
voice.
    "Hello, Joan, my name is Sara Sharif. How
are you today?" Joan smiled, easing back against the soft couch.
This habit of people in the region—this small talk they made
whenever they met or spoke—had been new to her when she had moved
there. Back where she was from in the States, everyone asked, "How
are you?" but no one ever really replied. It was an empty opener, a
rhetorical question just to get a conversation started. Here the
inquiries were real, and there was a great sense of people truly
caring about one another whether they knew each other or not. It
was refreshing to say the least, and it still pleased Joan to that
day.
    "I'm doing very well," she replied. "Just
getting home from a long day at work. And yourself?"
    "I am doing quite well also," Sara replied,
and Joan could hear the warmth in her voice—along with something
familiar, though she couldn't quite place it yet. "Still at work,
in fact. Which is the reason I am calling you, Joan. I work for the
Special Olympics, and I am in a bit of a bind trying to figure out
the logistics of planning an event I wish to hold. Please, would
you have a few minutes to answer some questions for me?"
    Joan gazed out the window as she listened to
Sara speak. Answer some questions? Sure, that part was just fine
with her. Joan had been in the nonprofit business a long time, and
she often received calls from people in newer or startup companies
wanting to pick her brain regarding business models, funding, and
the like.
    "Well, sure," she replied, her eyes still on
the beautiful pink and orange hues as the sun set on the horizon.
"Might I ask first, though, how you got my number?"
    "Oh, dear! Forgive me!" Sara sounded