CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
EPILOGUE
Note From The Author
Newsletter
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Cate M. Turner
Dedication
To Laura
CHAPTER 1
Leila wanted to flip the table—just this once, just to see what it was like. Would the other patrons in the museum’s café gasp in shock as ceramic cups, magazines, silk flowers, and tulle samples flew across the room?
She held her chin in her hands, elbows on the tabletop. Of course she wouldn’t flip it. Her mother, sitting across from her, was having the time of her life. Aisha smiled brightly as she turned the page in a wedding magazine, her chestnut eyes sparkling, her dark hair tumbling in perfect waves over her shoulders. Like she had been born for this.
Leila rolled an empty sugar packet into a tube. She was just as interested in wedding planning as Sami, who sat next to their mother. Except the ten-year-old had headphones on while he played a game on a phone. Lucky duck. All he had to worry about was whether they’d ever make it into the museum to see the mummified crocodiles.
“Mom?” Leila sighed.
Aisha pointed at a page in the magazine, a picture of an arm covered in henna tattoos. “Isn’t this lovely? I wonder if your henna artist could do flowers like that. Oh, by the way, I have your pedicure appointment booked for Thursday.”
“Mom?” Leila said, louder.
“For some reason, the week of your wedding is booked out already. Thursday was as close as I could get.”
“Mom, please.” Leila folded her arms on the table and buried her face into them.
Aisha fell quiet for a moment. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“Cancel it.”
“What?” Aisha gasped.
“Cancel all of it.”
“Sweetie, you don’t mean—”
Leila lifted her head. “We’re eloping.”
“But… but your wedding is in two weeks.” Aisha touched her fingertips to her lips.
Guilt pinged in Leila’s chest, but only for a second before she set her jaw in determination. “I don’t want any of…” she waved a hand at the pile of stuff on the table, “this.”
“You can’t be serious.” Aisha slowly closed the magazine and stared at Leila with round eyes. “What would Xander think? Have you talked to him about this? What about the venue? It’s the nicest hotel in Cairo. And the transportation? I rented a limo and camels. The catering—”
