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“Up my sleeve?”  

    He looked confused.  

    “You mean, I must have some tricks up my sleeve. That’s how the saying goes.”

    “Yes,” he said, his goofy smile retracting a little. “ Of course. That’s what I meant.” He looked down at his shirt and smoothed the wrinkles out. She had embarrassed him.

    “You are from Dubai?” She asked.  

    “No. Somewhere else. You’ll find almost everyone here is from somewhere else.” He looked down at his shoes now and she did too. The tip of one shiny dress shoe had separated from the sole and gaped open when he lifted his foot.

    “Be careful with that,” she said pointing to it, “or you’ll trip.”

    His smile disappeared altogether. He pulled that foot back so it was hidden by his other leg and pretended she hadn’t seen it. The rest of him looked so polished and put together in his pressed white shirt and slacks.  

    “Everything okay with the laptop? You know how to...to make a document?”  

    “I think so,” she told him.

    “If you have any questions, come to me. I am the answer guy around here.” He was leaned back again with his shoe still hidden. “About the computer, the hotel. Anything at all.”

    “I can’t think of any right now,” she said. Then she thought of a question, something she’d been wondering since her new boss rushed out the door. “I was wondering, is Samantha always like that?”  

    He laughed. “Sometimes, she’s worse. Why do you think the last IT guy went home after two months?”

    She studied his expression, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. “Hamid?”  

    “I can’t speak for him, of course. He’s back in India now, sitting on the floor in some Mumbai slum thanking Allah he doesn’t work here anymore.’  

    She laughed. “I thought you were being serious.”

    “I am being serious.”

    “Do you like it here?”  

    He shrugged. “The money is good and I don’t have much of a social life anyway.”  

    “Me neither, I guess. I don’t know anyone here.”  

    “You know me.” He leaned over and playfully touched her shoulder. “And, you met the owner already?”  

    “Yes, last night. I don’t think he likes me.”  

    “I don’t think he likes anyone,” he said. “He doesn’t like...or dislike. I don’t think he cares.”

    She remembered the night before, how he’d looked at her. “He might dislike me.”  

    “I don’t believe it. You?”

    “I said something...I asked about his relationship.” Hamid’s smile stretched wide; he seemed to be making fun of her, so she added. “It was a business question. I asked who in his relationship chooses the hotel. It’s so confusing, the culture, I mean.”

    “He’s not married,” Hamid said. “He was engaged once. The girl...Nada...she died. From a car accident. That’s what I heard.”

    “That’s awful.” She covered her face with her hands.”No wonder.”  

    “Don’t worry about it. How could you know? It wasn’t too much in the newspapers. He probably asked them to keep it out. “You know,” he said, rubbing his thumb and fingers together to indicate money. “I wasn’t here, of course. I came here after. But people talk. Say he wasn’t seeming too sad after it happened. He came to work the next day and had his meetings,” he shrugged again. “Business as usual.”

    “Maybe he didn’t love her,” she said.

    “Love?” He laughed.   “Those guys don’t marry for love. They don’t even know what love is.”

    “I doubt that’s true Hamid,” She remembered the sheik whispering to his horse, repeating the word shuf . “He might not, but that doesn’t mean they’re all like that. He is arrogant though. This morning, he walked right past me in the lobby and didn’t say a word.”  

    Hamid thought this was hilarious. “What did you expect?” He put his hands together like an excited girl. “Oh, beautiful Rachel, how are you? Let me put this sandal on your foot?” He rolled