“Aydin isn’t simply a businessman, Hana,” Yusuf said slowly, as if he were speaking to a young child. “He’s a colonizer. He and his father have their sights set on our neighbourhood, our home. Don’t be fooled by his pretty face and expensive clothes. The father is nasty, but the son is the real predator.”
I flushed at Yusuf’s words. They closely resembled my own thinking, and it was strange to hear them spoken out loud. I was starting to regret coming out for ice cream after all.
Yusuf turned his attention back to Lily and began telling her about his latest passion project, a free medical clinic for refugees. They were looking for doctors willing to volunteer. Would she have time to take a quick tour today?
He gave me a significant look, and I snapped to attention. “We cancatch up later, Lil,” I reassured her. “You should spend some time with Yusuf on this very worthy cause.”
We all agreed to dinner in the next few weeks. My two best friends exited, leaving me with an uncomfortable swirl of feelings. Was my aunt right about the rumours surrounding Junaid Uncle? Was Aydin really a colonizer, as Yusuf had put it? Was Golden Crescent slated to be the next stop on his eastward march from Vancouver? If so, why did I feel so awful about making a fake complaint against his business? This was war, after all.Because you lied. Aydin never lied to you.
As if my thoughts had conjured him up, the doorbell chimed and Aydin walked into IScreams, his gorgeous publicist-fiancée on his arm.
Chapter Seventeen
Correction: Aydin and Zulfa walked into IScreams accompanied by my cousin. Rashid spotted me and glanced guiltily at Aydin. There was a lot of that going around.
“Stop following me!” Rashid said loudly. Aydin looked startled, then noticed me. The expression on his face turned stony, but Zulfa smiled and made her way over.
“Hana, right?” she said in a sweet, singsong voice. She was dressed in an emerald green jumpsuit with a cinched waist that emphasized her Barbie doll proportions. Her hair swished around her shoulders like a very expensive curtain, and she walked confidently in three-inch stilettos. Next to her I felt frumpy in my old jeans and black sweatshirt, faded jersey hijab thrown carelessly over my head.
“And you’re Zainab, right?” I asked, playing dumb.
“Zulfa,” she said, smiling brilliantly.
Gag. She was beautifulandnice. “Zalfu?” I repeated, eyes wide.
“You’re so lucky you have a name that’s easy to pronounce,” Zulfa said, sighing prettily. “I’ve started just spelling my name when I introduce myself. ‘Hi, I’m Zed-you-ell-eff-ay.’ I still get a blank look, but at least that way they can visualize it in their heads first.”
Nice, beautiful, and smart. Damn. “My full name is Hanaan,” I muttered. “Nobody can pronounce it either, so I go by Hana.”
Rashid sat down beside me. “They followed me here, I swear it,” he said.
“You asked us to come with you when we met outside your aunt’s restaurant,” Zulfa said. A mischievous smile danced on her lips. “Something about feeling lonely in a strange land?”
Rashid shot her a look before turning back to me. “It was most difficult to get rid of them, Hana Apa. You understand how hard it is for an Indian to be rude. The politeness gene has been bred and beaten into me quite intensely.”
I rolled my eyes, but Zulfa’s musical laughter made my cousin smile broadly. “What did you say your name was again?” she said to my cousin.
“R-A-S-H-I-D,” he said, smiling. “And you are the beautiful Zulfa, fiancée to the silent usurper Aydin.”
“We’re here for ice cream,” Zulfa said.
“I thought you were here for the steak and mashed potatoes,” I said, cutting my eyes at Aydin, who stood behind Zulfa. His arms were crossed and he looked uncomfortable. A delicious feeling of mischief bloomed in my mind.
Zulfa laughed again. “Aydin said you were funny! I hope it’s okay if we join you.” Not waiting for an answer, she took a seat and then turned to Aydin. “That Black Raspberry Thunder sounds interesting. Order me a scoop?”
“I’m sure Hana wants to be left alone,” Aydin said shortly, still not looking at me. “There are plenty of empty tables.”
“No, please have a seat,” I said. What was I doing? The politeness gene had clearly been bred into me too.
Aydin caught my eye. “You don’t have to pretend to like us.”
“I like Zulfa just fine,” I answered, and Aydin flushed.
Zulfa laughed. “Ooh, burn.” She turned to me. “I had a feeling we would be friends.”
Mr. Silver Shades walked to the counter, joined by Rashid.
Maybe she really was only Aydin’s publicist. Zulfa’s eyes were clear and unassuming, her face empty of guile. I supposed beautiful people have no need to be underhanded. People just give them whatever they want, whenever they ask for it. I sank even lower in my seat and considered my options. I wasn’t in the mood to eat ice cream with Aydin. I contemplated making a run for it. If Rashid weren’t there, I would have, except his words had made me feel bad.
