A Family Affair by Fern Michaels

though our group is scattered all over the country these days, we stay in touch. Anything for Malik. I’d give anything to see his face if you can pull this off.”
    “I’ll send you a picture,” Trish promised. “Call me. Doesn’t matter what time it is. I see that this is a Virginia number, so I’m three hours behind you. Thanks for your help, Zack.”
    Trish dusted her hands dramatically. She didn’t know how she knew, but she just knew she was going to find the rattletrap and somehow get it to Dubai in time for the wedding. Now that the car was being taken care of, Trish let her thoughts go to her sister and what she could do for her. How sad she must be that her daughter chose her husband over her. Ex-husband. She wondered what, if anything, she could do about that.
    She’d make it a family affair.

Chapter 8
    T RISH ROLLED OVER IN BED, THEN ROLLED BACK. S HE SNIFFED . The scent of fresh-brewed coffee was wafting about her. Soraya making coffee! Unbelievable! Still, the young woman had taken to life here in the States like a duck takes to water. She knew how to work the washer, the dryer, the dishwasher, and the microwave and was proud of her accomplishments. She even made toast and cut up fruit in the morning. She said she loved doing it, and Trish believed her.
    It was the day Soraya had been waiting for since their return. A week had gone by without a trip to the casino because Trish had had too many things to do. But today was the start of the first Christmas show, and she was going to dance, with Soraya front and center in the audience. Malik had told her last night, in his last call of the day, that his sister had called him a dozen times to thank him for allowing her to come to the States and then to regale him with all she’d done since her arrival.
    A soft knock sounded on Trish’s bedroom door. “Come in.”
    “I thought you might like coffee in bed today. I’ll join you if that’s all right.”
    “How sweet of you to do that. Is it drinkable?” Trish joked.
    Soraya laughed. “Malik told me how to make it. One scoop for each cup and one for the pot. He said I couldn’t go wrong if I did it that way. I tested it. Tell me what you think,” she said anxiously.
    Trish sipped the fragrant brew. “Excellent! I couldn’t have made it better.”
    “What are we doing today? I can’t wait for this evening. You have to help me choose something to wear that is appropriate for this evening. I have no wish to embarrass you. Is it dress up, or is it casual? Plus, it’s cold out. I saw on your little television in the kitchen that it is twelve degrees outside.”
    “Casual is always good. The night I met Malik, he was wearing jeans and a cable-knit sweater. That white cashmere sweater you bought the other day and the black wool slacks will be perfect, if you’re comfortable wearing them. Easy on the jewelry. There are people out and about who scout around, then rob you. Security is excellent, but you still have to be careful.”
    “I understand. So, how much progress have you made on Malik’s car? He will go over the moon when he sees it. Did I say that right?”
    “You did, and I hope you’re right. The last call I had was to tell me they think the car is in a junkyard. They’re working on getting it out. Zack said he would call me today if they were successful. He wanted to know if I wanted it fixed. The whole point of getting the car is so it’s drivable, so I said yes. That means I’m going to have to scrounge up money from somewhere. I’ll get paid to dance tonight, but it won’t be all that much. I’m about tapped out. I still have gifts to buy for the girls and other odds and ends.”
    “How much do you need, Trish? I have lots of money. Just tell me what you need.”
    “No, sweetie, it doesn’t work that way. This is a gift from me to Malik, so I have to pay for it. I have a little nest egg I can tap. Don’t worry about it, and don’t you dare tell Malik. This is one of those