The woman was stunning. If only she didn’t look so miserable, thought Tony the salesman.
She looked like a Greek statue, sitting there, all ramrod straight on the velvet chaise, smack dab in the middle of the Beverly Hills Hotel presidential suite. It was worth the trouble of leaving his boutique on Rodeo to present his best watches.
“Are you ready to view the watches, Madame?” Tony asked.
“Yes.”
Tony bustled away after a pause, disappointed. Most clients couldn’t wait to start complaining during a private watch showing.
Her silence, and tormented expression, made him more curious than ever.
The bulletproof case containing the timepieces was sitting atop a small marble table. He carefully unlocked and lifted it open. He had polished the watches so well that the chains sparkled almost as much as the baguette diamonds covering them.
Tony was so excited to see which timepiece this client would buy. Apparently, she was royalty. His heart fluttered.
He purposely placed a Jacob & Co. right in the center of the display case. Guaranteed, she wouldn’t be able to resist.
The watch was more like a sculpture. It was a crystal half-sphere, inside which were tiny, diamond-studded balls revolving around each other, like a miniature solar system. Gently ticking away, a white gold dial glinted atop the tourbillon complication. The whole thing cost a cool two million.
The salesman didn’t dare think of his commission. His glee would no doubt spook the sulky statue.
You can finally lease the Lambo! Or pay off your debt!
“Here we go, Madame.” Trembling from excitement, Tony swiveled the case around to face the high-cheek-boned, plump-lipped beauty, and waited. All except the Jacob & Co. seemed duller, compared to this woman’s ethereal visage and her endless, deep brown eyes.
Her eyes flickered down.
Seconds scraped by. Tony squeezed his toes in his too-tight shoes.
“That one.” The woman’s voice poured into his ear like lavender oil.
“I’m sorry?” Surely Tony heard her wrong.
The woman shook her head with a little smile. “This is the one I want.” She pointed.
At his wrist. His Apple Watch.
“Is something wrong?” She gave that smile again.
Tony had no idea what to say. His heart began palpitating.
“No, no. If you will excuse me, I have an urgent call.”
Ducking into the hallway, he hid behind a statue and dialed his sponsor with sweaty hands.
*
When the boutique manager—Taylor? Tommy? Whatever-- left the room, Fatima’s smile faded. She was exhausted. Exhausted from him and his nervousness. Exhausted from her husband of only two years, Badi, who wanted her pregnant, ASAP. Exhausted from Badi’s mother, who also wanted Fatima pregnant ASAP.
This wasn’t how things were meant to turn out for her. Fatima, the prized gem of the family, who graduated Magna Cum Laude from Cornell, had ended up a cow, expected to birth prize bovine. All those nights studying, sometimes with her friend Rebecca --God, how much she missed Rebecca-- just so Fatima could be eligible enough to snag one of the nephews of the ruler of Dubai.
Well. Fatima got her wish. Or she should say, her family did.
Now, everything felt so … deflated. Even this trip to L.A., just like their honeymoon, was a bust. Badi had promised to take her shopping in Vegas, where all the good stuff was. But she had barely seen him since they landed. He only interacted with her at night, when it was time to …
Ugh
Fatima eyed the magnificent shine of the globe-like watch. The Jacob & Co. She knew Tony —that was it, Tony!— was itching for her to buy it.
Which was why she had requested his watch, just to see his face. Fatima chuckled. She couldn’t wait to tell Rebecca. She loved it when Fatima freaked people out with her pranks.
*
The door whirred, unlocking. Maha sighed in relief. Yesterday, Fatima had ‘accidentally lost her hotel room key’ and had new cards made. The mother-in-law had been locked out only a minute or so, but the message was clear: Stay out.
But staying out was not an option. Not after what Maha had seen at one of the family’s infrequently used, secluded villas back home. Now, she had no choice but to get involved with her eldest son Badi’s marriage, which was why the matriarch had joined her son and his still non-pregnant wife on their trip to Los Angeles.
“Did you pick a watch? Where is the man?” Maha asked her daughter-in-law, who was still sitting where Maha had left her that morning. Like a lump of shit, Maha thought angrily.
“In the hallway, Mama, you didn’t see him?!”
“No ice!” the older woman barked. Fatima had slipped a couple of cubes into her glass. “I told you many times, cold water inhibits fertility.” She snatched the glass out of her daughter-in-law’s hand, tossing the contents into an ice bucket.
What was with this girl? She had everything. Brains, beauty, a prince husband, a suite in Beverly Hills.
Maha rewrapped her veil loosely around her head, taking care not to touch her freshly injected face. “Well? Show me the watches.” She resisted the urge to shout.
“Of course, Mama.” Fatima stretched her delicate neck out, slow as a tortoise, and called out in English, “Sir?”
Maha tutted and turned to the excitable-looking man who had just entered the room. Like every transaction, she summed him up in seconds. A gay man, mid-forties but with the mind of a child who spent more than he made. Fashionably dressed, but in clothes that were too small for his pear shape. He looked as scattered as her daughter-in-law. She approved of his lip injections.
“I’m sorry about the earlier misunderstanding,” Fatima told him. The man looked relieved.
Dear God, what has this girl done now?
“Order food, please,” Maha told the salesman, not missing his frown.
Fatima covered her mouth in embarrassment. Maha didn’t care. This man was from here. He was obligated to take care of them.
“Madame, I’m not sure I …”
“Steak, and salata. Salad.” Maha self-corrected quickly. She didn’t speak English like her children, but she wasn’t going to let them or anyone else try and teach her.
The man’s forehead became shiny with sweat. He busied himself at the desk in the corner of the room. Maha turned back to Fatima. Her daughter-in-law looked even more withered than when she first entered.
Fatima said, “I’m so tired …”
“Where is my son?” Maha interrupted.
Fatima’s beautiful face grew surly. “I don’t know. He is not answering his phone.”
Maha bit her lip. She always feared Badi would follow in his father's footsteps. Maha had given her husband not one but five children, and impressively, it didn’t stop the walking corpse from taking a second and third wife.
But what she had seen going on in that villa was far worse.
“What do you think?” Fatima asked with a tilt of her head. The young woman had put the Jacob & Co. She began rotating her wrist, causing an explosion of sparkles.
With those divine genes, my grandchildren will be absolutely mouthwatering …
Maha let few things weaken her; beauty was one of them. Hence why she was willing to let go of what she saw Fatima doing at the villa.
With that blasted college friend of hers who kept visiting them in Dubai, Rebecca.
“Good. We will take the Jacob & Co.” Maha called to the salesman, who mouthed, OK!
Maha turned and brought out the shopping bag she had stowed away under a table. All the way from the other side of the room, she could now feel the watch delivery man eyeing her voluptuous behind.
Let him watch. One squeeze of these thighs around his cheeks and he would never be the same.
Maybe she would request to see him alone later. She would buy another watch for his troubles. The older woman got her kicks where she could.
Smiling mischievously, Maha presented the gift to Fatima, who was squirming.
“Try them on in front of me, ya habibty.”
Even the man, from all the way from the corner of the room, looked shocked.
Idiots, the lot of them. There was nothing wrong with some lingerie.
To be continued …
Client-Sales Adventures will be a sporadic serial, injected here and there in this newsletter. Keep an eye out for the next “episode”
Fabulous
Do you make these drawings/sketches yourself? Brilliant :)