After he and Gabe graduated from college, they moved into a separate, smaller house on the property. Gosh knows he loved his mother, but when she started asking where he was going all the time, he figured the move was called for. Especially when she started asking if he was meeting any girls. His mother's antics had only grown worse over the years. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dani threw in the towel and just arranged a marriage solely so she could have grandchildren. It was a Keeneston epidemic. Now that some of his friends were married, the rest of the young adults were no longer safe.
Zain closed his laptop and a second later his eyes also closed. His mind drifted to his newly married friends. Maybe having someone to handle the pressure of the crown with, someone to be his partner, someone to love, wouldn’t be so bad. Of course he’d die before he admitted that anywhere besides in his dreams.
CHAPTER TWO
Washington, D.C.
Mila heard the phone from where her head was buried under a pillow. If she just ignored it she could probably get back to sleep. But it didn’t stop. She snaked her arm out and fumbled around until her fingers closed over the phone. As a contract interpreter, she was on the clock more than she was off. And the previous night had been no different. She had accompanied the German ambassador to the United States to a party until three in the morning and didn’t get home until almost four. While the ambassador spoke English, he always insisted on bringing her with him. He claimed it was so he wouldn’t miss something. But Mila was pretty sure he just liked having her on his arm so he wouldn’t have to bother finding a date to those functions.
“Hello?” Mila mumbled from under the pillow.
“Ms. Thiessen?” a soft, but authoritative voice asked.
Mila sighed and gave up hope of sleeping. She shoved back the wavy mess of dark-walnut hair from her mascara-smeared eyes. “This is she.”
“Good morning. I’m Veronica Pritchard calling on behalf of His Royal Highness, Zain Ali Rahman. I know it is early, but you were recommended to me as a German interpreter and I desperately need one for a summit the prince is hosting in Kentucky next week.”
“Whom would I be interpreting for?” Mila asked as she grabbed a notepad.
“The German chancellor, Karl Hartmann.”
Mila blinked as the pen froze on the paper. She had been born into a political family. Her father had been a diplomat who was sent to work with German ambassadors all over the world. Her childhood was filled with living in various countries for a year or two before being moved to the next one. It’s how she developed her knack for languages. Mila had decided to go to college in the United States while her father continued climbing the ladder in embassy assignments. She majored in German, which was kind of a cheat since she was German. But she had additional majors in English, Arabic, and French. So far, there wasn’t a language that she couldn’t pick up.
Using her father’s connections, she traveled the world as an interpreter for German diplomats. For the last two years, she had settled in Washington, D.C. to work mostly with the embassy. Getting an assignment to interpret for the chancellor was something you didn’t turn down.
“What happened to his usual interpreter?”
“When his secretary wrote to inform us of the chancellor’s attendance, she informed me his regular interpreter was in the hospital recovering from surgery. That’s all the details I have.”
“What are the dates?” Mila asked as she pulled up her calendar. She had a couple of small parties to attend with the ambassador, but she could find a replacement. Even he would understand why she needed to go.
“Monday through Wednesday.”
“Where?” Mila asked as panic set in. That was this coming week. She usually needed at least a week to prepare for events like this, not two days.
“Keeneston, Kentucky. It’s outside of Lexington,” Veronica responded.
“That’s different,” Mila thought as she wrote everything down. Veronica chuckled and Mila realized she had spoken out loud.
“Prince Zain wished for this conference to be casual so the leaders felt relaxed enough to openly discuss the issues. Will you be able to do it?”
“Yes, I’ll clear my calendar and catch a flight out today. I assume you have a booth space. Do I need to bring anything with me?” Mila asked, thinking of the soundproof booths most interpreters worked in during conferences.
“No. As I said, this will be casual. There will only be fifteen leaders present and seven interpreters. When we’re all together, we will need simultaneous conference interpretation without equipment. At other times, it will be either whispered or short consecutive interpreting in smaller group settings, whichever the leaders choose,” Veronica explained as she rattled off more details.
Mila took notes and asked all the questions she needed. Before long, her email dinged. Veronica had sent her the contract, the security application, and confidentiality agreement. The paperwork would have to be run, security checks made, and her life researched, all before Veronica counter-signed the contract.
“When your clearances are verified and we’ve both signed the contract, I’ll send you the information packet containing the speeches, the topics of discussion, and the other information we have gathered for the interpreters. Do you have any questions?”
Mila looked over her notes. “No. I’ll start on the paperwork immediately.”
“Thank you. I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Thiessen.”
Mila hung up and flung the sheets off. She had a folder with copies of her identifications, security clearances, references, and other background information that she had become accustomed to supplying. Mila pulled them out as she printed the email from Veronica and made a call to find a replacement for the parties she already had planned. Just as she thought, the ambassador didn’t mind. Especially when he found out Heidi was replacing her.
As soon as the paperwork had been sent off and her bag was packed, she sat cross-legged on her couch with her laptop and typed Keeneston in the search bar. Part of her job was to assure she knew all the local customs so that the chancellor wouldn’t unknowingly make a social faux pas. A picture of a small town popped up on the website for The Keeneston Journal. Mila clicked it and started reading the latest issue of the weekly paper.
Keeneston Prepares for International Summit at Desert Farm was the top headline. Mila read through the article focused mostly on the Ali Rahman family and their ties to Keeneston. She read which diplomats were attending and saw that the summit was focusing on easing geopolitical tension and finding a way for these countries to work together on issues such as cyber attacks and disease outbreaks. Mila scrolled down farther and found a picture of the host, Zain Ali Rahman. He was younger than she expected—probably just a year or so older than her twenty-eight years. Mila knew of King Dirar and had heard of his brother, Mohtadi, who resided in the United States. Apparently Mohtadi’s son was taking over the family's politics. She’d also heard of his brother, Gabriel, who was routinely in the tabloids for the famous women he was dating. Zain flew under the radar more times than not.
She looked at the smiling face, the dark-brown hair cut short, dark eyes, and a strong jaw accented by the tiniest amount of stubble. The jeans that hung low on his waist and the tight black T-shirt showed that the prince actually used his muscles, and wow, those were some nice muscles. Zain was one sexy prince. The kind fairy tales were told about. The woman in the photo certainly appeared to smile at him as if he hung the moon. Abigail Mueez and Zain Ali Rahman win the three-legged race at the Keeneston Fourth of July Celebration was the caption under the photo.
The woman was a beauty. Mila could see that the Caribbean-blue eyes held adoration for the prince even under the fashionable shaggy bangs of her dark-brunette hair. Zain’s arm was around her waist as he held her close and smiled down into her face. Mila wrote down Abigail’s name on her notebook. If the prince’s girlfriend were around, the chancellor would need to know about her.
Mila clicked back to the main page of the newspaper and blinked. Listed between the winners of the baking contest and the next club meeting was an article titled Mystery Panties Found Hanging From Water Tower. Mila couldn’t stop herself from clicking on the story.