Or maybe she’d made a life-altering decision. Or she was sick. Or in legal trouble. It could be anything.
But Leila would have to cancel the call with Xander. She tapped back and forth between the texts. Go to Emma’s rescue, or chat with Xander for a couple hours? Emma seemed desperate. Xander would arrive the day after tomorrow.
Leila huffed. What could be so important that Emma would have to meet up immediately? But if they had dinner at seven, and the video call was at eight, maybe she could still make both work. She would have to give Xander a head’s up.
Having made up her mind, she searched the street until her eyes landed on a taxi idling at the curb. Her arm shot up and the car’s headlights flickered on.
She let out a puff of air and recorded a quick message to Xander while the vehicle headed her way.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” she started, trying to sound cheerful, even though she was ugly crying on the inside. “I need to meet up with Emma in a few. Something’s come up and she’s freaking out, so I might be late. Well, knowing Emma, very late. So don’t wait around for me or anything. I’ll still call you tomorrow before your flight. See you soon. Love ya.”
She hit send. It wasn’t much of a solution, but she’d make sure Emma didn’t keep her too long. It was still possible to drive to Cairo and back before nine, at least. If she couldn’t talk to Xander tonight, she would make up for her lateness the second she met him at arrivals.
The car pulled up and she slid into the back.
“Cairo, please,” she said to the driver. The woman nodded and they merged into traffic. Leila stared at the back of the driver’s head for a moment, surprised to see a woman in the driver’s seat. Although not unheard of, female taxi drivers were still a rarity in Egypt.
With a shrug, she leaned back in her seat and tapped a message to Emma.
Leila: Hey Emz, I’m on my way xoxo
CHAPTER 3
The restaurant stood a few blocks from one of the main shopping areas of downtown Cairo. Leila waited outside for a few minutes, studying the menu posted next to the door, and after she’d read through the entrees, she peered down the street for her friend.
Satellite dishes of varying sizes sat on top of the flat roofs and laundry draped over some of the balconies. The crooked letters hanging over the door of the smartphone shop flickered as they threatened to burn out. Couples and small groups of friends ambled down the sidewalks, laughing, chattering, clusters of shopping bags in hand.
No sign of Emma.
Leila leaned against the wall and flicked a mosquito off her arm. With a sigh, she checked her phone for the tenth time. Fifteen after seven. Eyes narrowed, she scrunched her lips to one side.
Fashionably late, as usual.
She paced while she wrote another text to Emma, then wandered inside, got a table, and ordered a drink. Taking small sips, she kept an eye on her phone. The checkmarks next to her message showed delivered but unread.
At least Xander was thinking of her.
Xander: Take your time, luv. Hope Emma is all right. I’ll see you in a couple days. Then you’ll be all mine xx
He was still the best. If only they didn’t have to live on different continents.
Was it time to have that conversation? She stared at her phone, her only means of communication with him—aside from the two times they’d visited each other. The black screen reflected a glowy image of the cone-shaped ceiling light.
No, she couldn’t think about that yet. They’d only been together for a year. And she had too much on her plate with doctorate studies and field work. There was no way she could move. Not any time soon.
Fifteen minutes, two texts, and an unanswered phone call later, Leila swirled the half-melted ice in her glass. Empty, and Emma still hadn’t shown up. What the heck was going on? Twirling a strand of brunette hair around her finger, she tried not to watch as the waitress passed by with plates heaped with pasta to other tables.
The aroma of basil and garlic drifted by while she told the waitress once again that she’d wait to order. Stomach growling, she hit Emma’s name on the screen of her phone and listened to the buzzing ringtone.
“Hey, girl,” Emma’s chipper voice, lightly accented with Italian, came from the speaker.
“Hey. Where on earth are you? Is everything okay? I’ve been waiting for half an hour.”
“Waiting? For what?”
Leila rolled her eyes. I can’t believe this. “You wanted to meet me for dinner.”
“What? Tonight? Are you sure?” The speaker rustled for a few seconds. “I’m trying to get some work done for the colloquium tomorrow. But an actual dinner does sound better than this bag of chips.”
Leila frowned. “You texted me two hours ago,” she said over the crunching noises on the speaker. “And you’ve been ignoring my texts and calls since.”
“I did? What? I haven’t gotten any texts. My phone has been right next to me the whole time. It never rang.”
“Would I make this up?”
“Well, no. It’s just weird, is all. Hang on a sec,” Emma said, her voice muffled.
Leila ran her finger around the rim of her empty glass, ready to tell her not to worry about it. Emma had been stressing out over the colloquium for weeks. It would have been easy enough for her to forget she’d made plans.
A moment later, Emma spoke again, “No, I didn’t text you. Do you mean email? I haven’t even checked my email yet. Or did you get your dates mixed up?” Emma’s tone changed. “Oh, I see how it is. Excited about Thursday, are we?” she teased.
Leila reclined in her seat, narrowing her eyes. How could Emma not have texted? “Wait a minute. That’s not possible. The message was sent from your number. I’ll take a screenshot.” They both fell silent as Leila made a screen capture and sent the picture.
“No,” Emma said. “I didn’t write that.”
“Did you use a different phone?”
“No. Seriously, that’s not from me. Someone must have hacked my phone.”
