Trusting A Sheikh (Playgrounds of Power 1) (11 page)

Chloe sat down, contemplating for the first time the unpleasant realization that the world wasn't always black-and-white – and the more difficult question of whether she herself remained a good person if she were to help Tariq fulfil his goals.

She sat down, noticing with a shock that she had found herself in exactly the same sofa on which she and her one-time lover had made love the night before. Her mind racing, she stared ahead, blankly, trying to come to terms with the right course of action. Should she quit her job? After all this time getting to the top – was that the right thing to do?

A part of Chloe wished that she had never been promoted to her own hotel – it had been so much easier when she was just a cog in the machine. Making these difficult decisions was something that, in hindsight, she wasn't sure if she could handle. Her eyes slowly began to focus on what was in front of her as she came out of the confused trance, no closer to a resolution than when she'd begun.

In front of her, now that she was concentrating, she could see a crack in the door that separated Tariq's study from the main living area of the large Presidential Suite, and through it, the handsome Prince himself.

His posture was so at odds with the confident and composed man that she had come to know over the past few days that, had she not known it was him, she wouldn't have believed it. He was bent over, holding himself up with a hand placed on the heavy mahogany desk that dominated the room, a phone held tight to his ear. From time to time, she saw the back of his head nod in a defeated fashion as though he were acquiescing to some new, terrible demand.

She watched in turn, and quickly averted her gaze, worried that she might get caught. But her curiosity got the better of her, and before long she was staring straight back into the room. Tariq was now seated resting on the desk, feet on the floor, his shoulders hunched. Chloe hadn't seen an expression like that on his face before – it was almost haunted, completely unrecognizable.

In a flash, she understood that his situation was, in fact, no different from her own. He was no more in control of his life that she was of hers. While Tariq had been born into power and wealth, whereas Chloe had worked hard every day of her life to achieve just one of those, he had to meet the same goals and expectations – except for him, they were set by his father, rather than by the need to pay rent on time.

Tariq no more wanted to spend his time buying guns than Chloe did. But he didn't have a choice.

13

^"
E
veryone get the fuck out," Khalid screamed to the room as Tariq put the phone down and emerged from his study. Staffers and aides fled in fear, a migrating herd of junior political advisers fleeing from an apex predator.

Chloe hesitated, and the unhinged Interior Ministry colonel turned on her in a flash. "That includes you,
woman
," he hissed. "You're not even one of us, what makes you think you can stay?"

A jarringly tired looking Tariq intervened, holding up his hand to forestall another outburst. "Have some respect, Khalid."

"Why should she stay? What does she know of us?" Khalid asked accusingly, outraged at Tariq's apparent acquiescence. "What right does she have?"

"I told you to keep quiet, Khalid," Tariq snapped, startling Chloe, who up until now had only ever seen him act calm and amiably. "Did you grow up in England?"

Khalid's lip curled at the question. "You know I didn't. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Tariq snarled, "but I want someone here who understands how people operate in this country. Do you? Of course not." He dismissed Khalid and turned to Chloe with an apologetic smile.

"I can go if it helps…" Chloe offered, honestly wanting nothing more than to do that, but Tariq dismissed her suggestion out of hand.

"No – I need you here." Shielding the act from the others’ view using his body, he patted her affectionately on her hip. Lowering his voice he said, "We'll talk after, okay?"

He turned away without waiting for a response, presumably to ensure that nobody noticed their closeness, but left Chloe confused about his true intentions, and even how she felt about them – and him. He beckoned the people left in the room towards him and sat on a sofa in the main seating area of the Presidential Suite. Chloe, Khalid, Abdul, and Omar followed and chose seats around him. Chloe was careful to pick the one furthest away from the unpredictable Khalid.

"I'm sure you all know what's happened, but I'll run you through it anyway so I know we're all on the same page. This morning a man called Rashid Al Mansouri was interviewed on television and made the case that we should not be allowed to do business here, and if necessary, the British government should prevent us from continuing to ink deals.

"All with me so far?" Heads nodded around the room.

"Good. The embassy has been receiving calls all morning – the phones are off the hook. We've got little old grandmas calling in outrage, but more worryingly right now, I'm told we had Members of Parliament and junior ministers calling in to express their… What's the right word? Displeasure.

"I shouldn't need to remind anyone," Tariq continued, beginning to build up a head of steam and return to the confident, composed man that Chloe had first met. "But the Eurofighter deal is essential. And as I'm sure you're all aware…" He looked around the room with a wry smile on his face. "My father has called to make that
very
plain."

"So, what's the plan?" Omar asked, ever practical.

"That's why you're all here. I don't have the answer. I want your ideas."

He opened up the floor, but Chloe deliberately held back for a number of reasons – she didn't want to provoke Khalid any more than he already was, and she was curious about what solution this group of people would come up with. She'd come across more than one military serviceman in her life, and at least in her experience, they weren't always brilliant thinking out of the box.

"Who is this piece of shit?" Khalid asked with typical callous disregard for the rules of polite society. "Why should we care what he says?"

"We aren't back home, Khalid. We can't just do and say whatever we want here. As to who he is, I've got the intelligence people at the embassy running it down. All we know so far is that he was in prison outside of Riyadh five years ago."

"I'd imagine he's got some rather unpleasant stories to tell them, in that case," Omar said drily. Chloe couldn't help but notice the calm and relaxed manner with which Omar seemed to operate. She didn't necessarily think that he was any more honorable, or even more trustworthy than his colleague Khalid, but he managed to present a face to the world that was far less deranged.

"That's what I'm thinking as well," Tariq agreed worriedly. "I've been telling the Interior Ministry to clean those places up for years, but what good was that?"

Khalid laughed, but it sounded more like an evil cackle than anything else, and his face was screwed up in a rictus grin that did nothing but emphasize his brutish features. "You wouldn't be complaining if we'd just kept him there, would you?"

"Perhaps not," Tariq allowed. "But we could have avoided this situation in the first place if you lot had just done your job without beating innocent prisoners." Chloe couldn't help notice a hint of steel creeping into Tariq's voice. For the first time since she'd known him, he exhibited the kind of confidence that didn't just come from wealth, but also from being a leader.

"Why don't we just tell the Brits to stick him in prison for a few weeks?" the quiet Abdul offered up, and Chloe couldn't believe what she was hearing. She hadn't expected much from these men, but this wasn't even meeting
her
low expectations.

"Don't be stupid, Abdul," Tariq snapped. "This isn't Riyadh. And I don't want to use that kind of method to solve my problems."

"I don't see why not," Khalid muttered. "Why don't we just make this problem go away?"

Chloe piped up, sickened by the suggestions being floated around by Tariq's underlings, but nevertheless determined to do her job. "I'm pretty sure we're, I mean you're, not going to get the government to lock this guy up.

"They wouldn't do it anyway, unless maybe he was suspected of being a terrorist or something like that – maybe there are laws that could be used to lock someone up in that case, but otherwise can you imagine the public outrage it would cause?" She laughed just imagining it. "I mean – think about it, he's been on TV now. It'd cause a media storm. There's no way that would do anything to help."

"You're right," Tariq agreed, shooting Khalid and Abdul dirty looks. "What do you suggest?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Chloe caught Khalid shooting her a filthy glance, and she made a mental note not to be caught alone in a corridor with him – Lord knows what kind of tricks he would be willing to pull to get even.

"Well… I'm no expert in this, but now he's got himself airtime, I think you probably need to respond," she said slowly, thoughtfully, thinking it over.

"What do you mean? Go on television?" Tariq asked, surprised at the suggestion.

"No – I don't think that's the best route."

"What then?" Tariq asked, confused. "Spit it out!"

Chloe grinned. "Okay, okay. I'm not saying I've got the answer, but what I think I would do if I was in your shoes is meet this guy, sit down with him and discuss his concerns."

Tariq nodded thoughtfully, but Khalid spluttered his displeasure. "What the fuck is that going to do, you stupid girl?"

"If you'd let me finish," Chloe jumped in before Tariq could respond to his junior's unspeakable rudeness, though she could see the anger in the blood rushing to his face, "instead of being so rude, then you'd know already." She had no idea what possessed her to speak so firmly, but the look of building rage on Khalid's face was a victory in itself, and the sight of stifled grins on Omar and Abdul's faces was food for thought.

"What I'm suggesting is that on the one hand, you invite him over to discuss your concerns – that way the public sees that you're taking this seriously. On the other hand, you invite the right people from government to dinners and breakfasts and lunches and butter them up, pointing out everything you're doing to address Rashid's issues.

"You do it that way, the government will be eating out of your hand," Chloe finished to a room filled with silence. She looked around nervously for a couple of seconds, wondering if perhaps she'd misread the mood in the room, and was relieved to see Omar and Tariq nodding slowly in approval.

"That's a damn good plan," Omar agreed, slapping his thigh. "What are we paying all those monkeys back at the embassy for, eh, if you can do it all? Where did you find her, Tariq?"

Chloe resented the fact that Omar felt that Tariq had found her anywhere, as she certainly didn't approve of the suggestion that Tariq deserved any of the credit for her idea – no matter how good he might be between her legs. Nevertheless, it felt good to get some external validation from time to time. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Abdul peering at Khalid, and realized that he was looking for a cue to know which position he should take. Unfortunately, his master, or so it seemed, was just sitting in his chair and smoldering.

"Well, if you've got him convinced," Tariq smiled. "then that's good enough for me. Abdul," he barked, interrupting the man's own attempts to interrupt Khalid.

"Yes, boss?" Abdul whimpered, his head snapping around in surprise.

"Get in touch with the embassy. I want to set up a meeting with the ambassador, this Rashid character and myself on embassy grounds. Press outside, but not in. You got that?"

Abdul looked caught between two minds, as though he wanted to stay and find out Khalid's opinion, but knew that ultimately he reported to Prince Tariq. Chloe filed that piece of information away for future reference – he might not be as unpleasant on the surface, but if his behavior was anything to go by, then Abdul was no more than Khalid's lapdog.

"Yes, boss."

"What are you waiting for?" Tariq questioned. "Hop to it." Abdul fled, clearly unwilling to be on the receiving end of another tongue lashing. "As for the rest of you – Omar, I just need you on the Eurofighter deal. Khalid – I want
everything
you have on this Rashid. No holding back, do you understand?"

Khalid nodded sullenly in a manner that gave Chloe the distinct impression that trusting his agreement even as far as she could throw it would be a significant mistake.

"Okay. We've all got work to do, let's get to it."

Everyone began filing out the room, Chloe politely waiting her turn. Just as she was about to leave, Tariq called out to her. "Chloe – do you have a second?"

For half a second, she considered pretending as though she hadn't heard his request, but dismissed the urge just as quickly as it had come. Whether this was about business, or
pleasure
– if it could be called that, she decided to face it head on.

She allowed the automatic doors to close in front of her and turned. "Yes?" she asked quietly.

"Chloe…" Tariq began, crossing the space in between them.

Pleasure…

14

T
he text was short, sweet, and signed with a capital R. It read:
Monmouth Coffee Shop, Soho – 10 a.m.

Chloe was no stranger to these messages, but it had been a while. She knew not to be late, and that was how she ended up sitting in a stylish Soho coffee shop at ten minutes to ten, watching as an intensely varied sample of humanity flowed like a river past the shop window, someone occasionally breaking off from the main pack like a tributary stream and entering.

"Just a double espresso for me, please," she asked the smiling barista squeezed uncomfortably behind the tiny counter.

"That'll be £2, please," the girl replied, and Chloe dipped into her bulging, heavy handbag to fish out the change.

"You're looking pretty squeezed back there." Chloe smiled, making a bit of small talk. "Couldn't they find you guys a bigger premises?"