Clueless Love

Two hours later I am done with a quarter of my work. I have only read a few of the feedback comments and have a thousand more to read. I will continue tomorrow because right now I must hurry to the salon. Fatima already called me to ask where I was. She and Emma are already there. I shut down my computer before taking the elevator to the parking lot and be on my way.

I arrive at the salon a bit late. I almost lost my own appointment with the hairstylist. I had my hair washed and braided. I didn’t paint my nails this time. I am praying, and I don’t want to. I only had a manicure and pedicure. I still remember the first time I went to the salon with Emma. She asked me why I bother to do my hair in elaborate styles since I always cover it. I explained to her that the reason I do my hair is for me to feel beautiful, not for anyone else to see. I don’t need anyone to see my hair to know it’s beautiful. When we are done at the salon I drive back home to rest before the award show.

I arrive home and walk straight to my room to decide on which shoes to wear with my dress. I pray Dhuhr (afternoon prayer) before starting my search. I have gone through my closet for up to an hour, but nothing seems like the right pair. I have at least picked out two I will pick from if I don’t find the right pair.

Two hours before the show, my makeup artist arrives and starts my makeup. I am going with a nude look, so she is done in 40 minutes. She also helps tie my turban for me with a silver-grey hajib that goes with my dress. I am wearing a silver grey, A-line dress in tulle, with a sheer neckline, long sleeves and a side slit. I am wearing pantyhose that are a bit darker than my skin, so my legs won’t be showing because of the slit. I put on gold butterfly diamond stud earrings and a carat diamond gold Tennis bracelet, while I decide between the two pairs of heels in front of me. One is a solid rivet embellished two-part thin heeled sandals. Another is a sexy hollow out zipper stiletto pumps. Every time I put my hand forward to wear one of them, I think to myself maybe the other one is better. I am very conflicted with which one to choose. Even the makeup artist tried to help but couldn’t seem to decide which goes better with my dress. I decide to call for help.

“Waheeda!” I say shouting her name from my room.

“What’s the problem? Is something wrong? Why did you shout my name?” Waheeda says rushing into my room sounding worried.

“Nothing is wrong, except the fact that I can’t decide which heels to wear.”

“Wait, you shouted my name because you want me to help you pick out heels to wear?” Waheeda says with disbelieve.

“Yes,” I say smiling.

“You are not serious,” Waheeda says, turning around, about to walk out.

“I am serious. I don’t know which to wear. Please help me pick one out,” I beg wishing I bought or found the right pair of heels to wear.

“Alright, fine. I will help you.”

“What’s going on? Umit is everything alright? I heard you shout Waheeda’s name,” Aazim says walking in sounding frightened like Waheeda was.

“Everything is fine. I just need help deciding which shoes to wear.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, and it’s a good thing you are here, maybe you can help me decide too.”

“I don’t mind helping, so where are the shoes? Let me pick the one I feel will fit you best.”

“Thank you, and here they are,” I say, placing the two pairs of high heeled shoes in front of them.

Waheeda and Aazim both pick different ones, adding to my conflict about which one to pick. I decide to close my eyes, and anyone my hand picks, I shall wear. I close my eyes and stretch my hand forward, but what I feel is not a shoe but rather a box. I open my eyes, and yes, I was right. A box was placed into my hands by none other than Ismail.

“When did you get here? What is this?” I ask surprised, and happy to see him looking dashing as ever in his three-piece midnight blue peak lapel tux.

“A few minutes ago and open it. I think you will like what you find inside,” Ismail says smiling, looking happy with what he put in my hands.

“Alright,” I open the box, and Ismail was right, I do love what is inside. It is the perfect pair of high heels I have been looking for. They are a sky-blue patent with silver leaves on the heel.

“Ismail thank you so much. They are so beautiful,” I say smiling brightly.

“You are welcome, and I am happy you like it.”

“I do and how did you know this is what I was looking for?”

“I wasn’t sure at first, but when I saw them at the store, I just knew they were the ones you would want to wear.”

“Thank you so much. I love them.”

“Am happy you do. Are you ready to go?”

“Let me just put on the heels, and I will meet you downstairs.”

“I will be waiting, and you look fabulous.”

“Thank you,” I say feeling my heart rate increase from the effect of the compliment.

“You are welcome,” Ismail says, walking out of the door.

“Your shoes are really beautiful,” Waheeda says.

“Yes, they are,” Aazim agrees.

“Thank you, and also thank you for trying to help me decide earlier on which to wear,” I say to them.

“It was nothing and see you when you get back,” Waheeda says walking out the door.

“No problem and enjoy your night,” Aazim says following his wife out.

I put on my high heels and walk downstairs to meet Ismail and be on our way.

When we arrive at the venue Ismail steps out and walks over to my door and opens it for me. Once my feet touches the red carpet, my eyes are blasted with flashes from all the reporters’ cameras. I walk down the red carpet, making sure to smile all the way, not wanting a bad picture taken of me. I stop to have a little interview with a reporter before walking inside.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“Hello, may I have a word with you?” A reporter says calling my attention.

“Sure, no problem,” I say walking toward her.

“So how are you doing tonight?”

“I’m fine and you?”

“I’m great, and I must say your dress is gorgeous. Who are you wearing if I may ask?”

“Thank you, and Tony Ward.”

“That’s nice, and it was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” I say walking away.

I meet Ismail at the entrance door, and we walk in together. I spot Fatima once I step inside, as she and Udar walk over to us. Fatima is wearing a powder yellow mermaid dress in lace with 3D leaves embroideries, with long sleeves and an overskirt.

“You look beautiful,” Fatima says hugging me.

“As do you. I love the color,” I say hugging her back.

“Thank you, and I knew you would.”

“You are welcome and where are Emma and Austin?”

“Right here,” Emma says from behind me.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” I say, turning around to face Emma and Austin. Emma is wearing a scarlet red off-the-shoulders dress in lace featuring stain Duchesse bands with crystal embroideries on the bust.

“We just arrived, and I love your dress. It’s so beautiful.”

“Thank you, and you look gorgeous also.”

“Thank you. I think it’s about to start, let’s go and take our seats.”

We all walk to our table, which is one table for everyone. The show begins right after everyone in the hall settles down. The award show is for game programmers and developers all around America. They start off like every typical award show. Different people come on stage and call the nominees and give the winner the award. They have called out a few awards that both Udar and Ismail had nominations in but have not won.

Right when I am about to give up on them winning anything tonight, their company name is called as a winner of an award. Both Ismail and Udar stand up to collect the award. The award won is excellence in design; I am so happy for them. They win another right after that one. They won the award for the best mobile game of the year. I guess I had to be patient to watch them win awards.

Halfway through the award show, the first individual award is called and Udar is a winner. He won the award for Ambassador of the year. I can see tears of joy in Fatima’s eyes; I can tell she is very proud of her fiancé. Ismail also gets an individual award, and one I would have never guessed him winning. Ismail won the award for Lifetime Achiever. I never knew Ismail has such a big impact on the gaming industry.

“I am so proud of you,” I say to him once he returns to his seat.

“Thank you. I am going to the restroom, I will be back in a minute,” Ismail says getting up from his seat again.

Ismail has been gone for more than an hour now. I am beginning to get a bit worried. The others at the table have also noticed his absence and are looking at me questioningly as I call his number a few times, but he does not pick up. Austin and Udar seem to have a silent conversation, and Austin slants his head at me indicating for me to follow him. Once outside the main function room, I tell Austin that Ismail said he was going to the restroom. Austin checks the restroom but there is no-one in there, definitely no Ismail. Now we are really getting worried and as Austin approaches the front desk, I start asking people in the lobby if they have seen him. Austin comes back and tells me the man at the front desk saw Ismail go into the elevators with a group of men but doesn’t know where or to which floor they went. We decide to split up. Austin will go to the top floor, checking each floor and work his way down. I will start from the bottom and work my way up. We are not sure what we are looking for, but hopefully, we will find a sign leading us to Ismail. I have gone to four floors in the hotel, but none have a trace of Ismail. In Shaa Allah, I will find him soon. I step onto the fifth floor and hear a little commotion. I tiptoe to the right side of the floor where the noise is coming from, to find out what is happening.

I see two huge guys standing in front of a door; they look like they are guarding it. They both look like they can crush me with two fingers. I can see a gun peeking out from one of their back pockets. Who are these guys? What are they doing here? Are they the ones who have Ismail? I need to find out, but I’m not sure how. I decide the best thing to do is go back down and ask the front desk for help, but I was not quiet enough. While walking back, I accidentally hit a flower vase, alerting the huge guys to my presence.

“Hey, who is there?” one of them shouts while walking towards me.

Without thinking, I run as if my life depends on it. I reach the elevator but when I press the button, it does not open immediately. I decide to take the stairs not wanting to try my luck with those men. Who knows who those men are, and what they will do to me when they catch me. I can’t risk it. I am about to push open the door to the stairs when I feel something pressed to the side of my head.

“Don’t even think about it,” a deep voice says.

I turn my head slowly, coming face to face with a gun pointed at my head. I don’t say or do anything, I just freeze on the spot.