Prince Hamad's idea|Yet, you handled them.
Myla, and Ms. Grayson meet with Mr. Andrew at a well-known restaurant to talk about the contract.
She insisted that something had to be changed, since she can't get romantically involved with someone for the screen as a married woman, and more to that it's weird for her, spiritually.
“Nice to meet you once again, Mrs. Jamal.”
She smiles broadly. “Thank you, Mr. Andrew.”
And settles opposite to her producer, while her manager seats next to her.
“First of all, I want to appreciate you for accepting us here. I'm grateful.” Myla tells.
“The pleasure is all mine. Let's order something, shall we?”
They nod, and a waitress comes forth, taking their preference.
“I can't tell you how honoured I was when you, and Jamal received that award. I got so many calls on that day, congratulating us as it was a great breakthrough.”
The waitress returns with the orders.
“Thank you,” Myla appreciates, and sips through her straw, the lemon juice in the glass.
“I agree. It was a breakthrough and I was shocked myself.”
“Yeah. And that's why we found it very necessary to put something more erotic in this one. You know... that's what people want.”
Myla sends her manager a side look, giving her the lead.
“Well, Mr. Andrew. Mrs. Jamal doesn't agree with it. That's why we're here, to relook into that.”
Mr. Andrew darts his gaze to Myla, who is seriously staring back.
“Why? We did this before.”
“Yeah, I did this before with Jamal. What do you think will happen when I do it with James?”
“No offense, but you just have to talk to him. I think he's going to understand.”
Myla raises her eyebrows. “You think, Mr. Andrew? Do you know my husband?”
Mr. Andrew shrugs, saying nothing.
“You see? You don't. Exactly how I expected you to react. So, please, help me make this right. We could still be great without that. I've watched many amazing films that are clean, and still hit the best selling movies in hollywood.”
Mr. Andrew leans against his chair.
“We've been in this business for years, now. People want to see something real. If they want spicy food, we don't just serve them with that. We add some more ingredients. And you are our ingredient. I'm sorry that what you're asking for is impossible.”
Myla giggles, then stops. “Mr. Andrew, you don't expect me to believe that...you can't help me. If you can't, then I will not go on with this project. I'm sorry, but I refuse to do something against my will.”
Mr. Producer sits upright. “Myla-”
“Mrs. Jamal,”
“Yes, sorry about that, Mrs. Jamal, we can talk about this professionally.”
“Yes, let's talk,”
He looks at her manager, then at her. “She stays.” Myla says at once.
He sighs and sips on his coke, staring back at Myla. “We'll look into the contract, and do a few revisions. Is that ok?”
“Deal?”
He nods. “Deal.”
...
Jamal walks into the office, with Amid, and his lawyer by his side.
A man in traditional Lebanese vest turns around, meeting Jamal's cool glare.
Jamal is in a black suit, black pants, and so are his compinions. His lawyer brings out a briefcase, which he places unto a glass table.
Amid walks ahead, whispering to the stranger in Arabic, before walking to Jamal.
“Prince Hamad.”
Jamal cringes his forehead a little. Why do a prince whose family business net worth is a hundred trillions, partner with him?
Someone whose family name is not even in the list of nominated business men, because their net worth is beyond measure.
“Why do I know now?”
“He refused to give out his identity.” Amid response.
Jamal looks at him, and the Prince smiles.
“I heard a lot about you, Mr. Jamal.”
Jamal nods. 'But I didn't. Except until now.' his mind answers.
“Same here.” Jamal finally says.
They don't shake hands, so everyone just have their seats.
“What's the deal, Prince?”
The man smiles again.
“Supply more mechanical cars.”
Prince Hamad's assistant, shoves a document towards Amid.
“The world today is evolving. I will rather prefer people to go in for the electronic ones, for nature's sake.”
“You're right, but our business is crumbling. People no longer need petrol, and that's... catastrophic for our family's image.”
“We have so many uses of petrol, now. Not just cars.”
“Cars have been our most use. I wouldn't come to you, if there was some other means.”
The Prince adds, “We have a great profit for you, if you do this for us. They are all in that sheet.”
Amid sends the file to Jamal, and he reads through one line, then stops, staring back at the Prince.
...
Myla arrives home earlier today, in order to get things prepaid for a come together at the house.
Her family, with that of Jamal's will be here tonight for dinner.
Her sister; Elena, Patricia, have come to assist her, with Mrs. Mehdi, and Myla's mom, Diana; everyone contributing in the kitchen.
“He tells me to eat a little of everything, and surprisingly, it works!”
Everyone laughs.
“It has to, if it comes from him.” Patricia teases, sending a cherry into her mouth.
Diana, replies, “That's it. When I told her this some years back, it didn't work. But when her husband says it, everything is just perfect.”
Mrs. Mehdi chortles, while mixing the dough in a transparent bowl.
Myla shakes her head at how exaggerative her mom is. “I don't remember you ever telling me that, mom.”
“You can't remember. It was meant to be that way.” Mrs. Mehdi, contributes.
“I'm not surprised, you're taking sides. For that's how you lie about things, too.” Patricia tells her mom.
“Mothers are all the same.” says, Elena.
“You are a mother, too, remember?” Diana, tells her older daughter.
“Yes, but I don't deny it. I behave this way to the twins, every single time. That's just how we are.”
The mothers look at each other silently.
“We just listened to a witness. What else do they want to argue?” Patricia, says.
“Enough of the blabbering, and give me those cherries, before you wipe them all.” Mrs. Mehdi, instructs her daughter.
With a frown, Patricia sends the cherry bowl to her mom, who pours it into the dough, and mixes.
Elena's kids, who came along, play right into the kitchen, almost knocking a tray of food down.
“Heyy, this is not a playground! Go outside!”
One of them hit the other and she starts crying.
“Why did you do that?” Myla stoops down, asking in a low tone.
“He hit me first.” Gael says.
Myla shakes her head. “You don't do that. He's your little brother. You should care for him,”
She nods, and Myla turns to Rael. “Stop crying, and don't look for trouble, again. You have to respect one another, ok?”
He nods.
“Now, apologize to him.”
He hesitates, but Myla's look makes him to do so quickly.
“I'm sorry, Gael.”
Myla smiles, “Good.” and turns to the elder. “It's your turn. Apologize to your brother.”
“I'm sorry, Rael.”
Myla nods. “Now, hug each other.”
They do so with a broad smile. Myla stands, and looks for something eatable to give them.
When they receive it, they say in union, “Thank you, Aunt Myla.”
“Your welcome. Now disappear. I don't want to hear someone crying out there, or else I'd come with my Cain, to whip all of you.”
They run out with great joy, and Myla sighs, coming back to her senses about her surrounding.
“Difficult kids.”
Her Mother-in-law, and everyone else is silently staring at someone, but she doesn't know until she gets the signature whiff, and the voice proceeding.
“Yet, you handled them.”
She spins on her toes, swiftly, and sees Jamal's charming eyes, full of admiration, staring back at his wife.
“Hey,” her voice comes out inaudibly.
“Hey,” he repeats, huskily.
Her heart makes a weird sound as he approaches. Myla cranes her neck to keep eye contact with him; not as if she controls it anymore.
There's always this force in his gaze, like being hypnotized, that she doesn't apprehend.
Jamal's eyes becomes stormy, and he bring his head in. She knows what he's going to do already, still, she doesn't stop him.
She's going to be kissed in front of her mom, and everyone with this much lust in her husbands eyes. It's going to be nasty, and embarrassing.
She tries to inform him about it with her eyes, but it only ends up with what he wants.
Their lips lock, and everyone looks away. He sends his tongue into her mouth so fast and takes it out only after a few seconds, when Myla couldn't help, but moan.
Fuck! She moaned!
That's all he wanted to hear, so he breaks the kiss, staring at her battling with her breath.
But, before she return to earth, he's gone.
To be continued...