As with everything else, Eloise had done her research on Khan Capital weeks before making the trip. She knew their potential partners had established their company thirty years ago and built it from the ground up. The Khan family were actually closely related to the man who held the throne in Al-Zhera, to the point that the founder’s brother was in fact the nation’s ruling sheikh.

When the founder had passed away a few years ago, his son had inherited the company, and now served as CEO. Eloise had done her best not to get preoccupied by the fact that she would essentially be meeting with royalty today. It would be best to interact with them on a human level, she thought—to treat them as equals.

Of course, Patrick put his foot in it right away. He greeted the CEO with a comically long and over exaggerated bow. “Your Excellency,” he intoned.

Eloise restrained herself from rolling her eyes. She knew Patrick well enough to understand that his gesture had been sincere, but it was so over the top that it was likely to be read as sarcastic and possibly even cause offense.

She stepped forward, edging Patrick slightly to the side and extending her hand to shake. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure how to refer to you…is Sheikh Khan correct?”

The man smiled and took her hand between both of his. “You may call me Masoud. There is no need for formalities here.”

His smile left her breathless. Eloise had researched Masoud Khan, just as she’d researched everything else before coming on this trip, but all the pictures she could find of him had been of a gangly teenager attending state functions. The man before her, she thought wickedly, had certainly grown into himself.

Masoud’s smile reflected an amusement with the world around him, as though everything had been placed there for his enjoyment. His wide eyes gave him the look of someone younger than his thirty-two years. His facial hair was buzzed short and neatly trimmed, not a single hair out of place.

“Will you come this way?” Masoud asked, gesturing toward a tall mahogany door.

They entered a spacious conference room lined on both sides with windows. Eloise chose a seat that faced out toward the desert instead of inward toward the office. She was captivated by the barren landscape. It felt as though, at any minute, a camel might rise over the nearest dune, perhaps being ridden by an itinerant trader. She narrowed her eyes and tried to imagine the trader appearing over the hill in an SUV instead. The idea felt incongruent.

I’m just as bad as Patrick, she thought. I’m literally sitting in an executive meeting and I’m still thinking of Al-Zhera as a place out of the past.

“Shall we get started?” Masoud asked, taking the chair at the head of the table.

Patrick got to his feet. Eloise joined him and began advancing the slides as he spoke about MAFA Financial’s history.

Masoud’s eyes widened a little as they proceeded to the key slide—a graph that depicted how much money MAFA had made for its wealthiest investors, contrasted with the gains made by investors starting without much capital. The graph demonstrated that both groups saw a substantial average increase through their dealings with MAFA. The lesson was clear—it didn’t matter how much money you brought to the table; MAFA could start with any amount and increase your total holdings substantially.

Eloise knew, however, that Khan Capital would be a big get for MAFA. The company was one of the wealthiest in the Middle East, and certainly in all of Al-Zhera. She knew that this was at least in part because of their ties to the royal family. The Khan family, even those members not in line for the throne, were extremely well-off.

The photos she’d seen of teenage Masoud had all been taken either at state functions or charitable fundraisers. The family had held dinners to fundraise for leukemia, for various projects improving infrastructure within the city, and even one for stray dogs, which counted dogs among the guests. Eloise’s favorite photo of Masoud had been of him receiving a surprise lick in the face from a terrier puppy.

If Khan Capital chose to buy a stake in MAFA, Patrick was looking at a big payday. Eloise had to admit that her boss was holding it together pretty well so far. They were well into the presentation and Patrick was hitting his stride. He began to pace around, putting some distance between himself and the presentation. This was always a sure sign that he was feeling comfortable and felt he had command of a room.

The presentation drew to a close. Eloise, following the protocol she and Patrick had rehearsed, reset the slide show to the title screen so that the MAFA Financial logo would be prominently displayed during the subsequent conversation. She smiled widely at the Sheikh and his assembled board members.

Patrick took a seat at the table. “Any questions?” he asked.

The board members were shaking their heads, clearly impressed, but Masoud raised a finger. “There is one more thing we must discuss,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“The morality clause,” Masoud said.

“The what?”

A board member passed a form to Masoud, and he flipped it to face Patrick and slid it over.

“Every company we do business with is required to adhere to this set of standards—a code of conduct, if you will. Specifically, it pertains to you, the CEO and public face of MAFA Financial.”

“I’ve never been in any legal trouble,” Patrick assured Masoud. “Everything we do at MAFA is completely above board. Our legal team fully vets every employee and oversees every transaction.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Masoud said, “but that isn’t what the clause pertains to. Ours is a conservative nation, Mr. Gainsborough, and our way is to treat everyone with consummate respect. As a business partner, we would expect you to live up to that standard.”

“Are you saying I’m disrespectful?”

“I am merely presenting the morality standard. I haven’t said anything about you at all.”

Patrick scanned the document.

“This couldn’t have been faxed to my office before we traveled all the way to the other side of the world? You sent us a stack of forms describing what business with you would entail. Why wasn’t this included?”

“It was important to me to meet with you in person about this particular issue, Mr. Gainsborough.”

“Well, it’s important to me not to waste company money on a fruitless trip! I thought we were just dotting i's and crossing t’s here, Masoud!”

Eloise cringed. It had not escaped her notice that, since producing the form, Masoud had referred to Patrick using the more deferential “Mr. Gainsborough.” Meanwhile, Patrick continued to ignore Masoud’s title and call him by his first name. A discussion about respect didn’t seem to her to be the right time for that kind of posturing.

And had Masoud even told Patrick he could use his first name? She thought back. He’d said as much to Eloise, but she couldn’t remember him making a similar overture toward Patrick.

“Fine,” Patrick huffed. “Give me a pen. I’ll sign it.”

Masoud shook his head. “I’m afraid more will be necessary than simply signing.”

“More? What more? What do you mean?”

“As I said, this is a conservative country.”

“You want me to what, go to church?”

“Religion is your concern. This is about your treatment of people, both in your business and personal life.”

“I give to charity.”

“Mr. Gainsborough, you’re a public figure. Your reputation is not unknown to us, even though we are, as you say, on the other side of the world.”

“What reputation?!”

Patrick was angry, now. Eloise dreaded getting back to the hotel, knowing she would probably be sent on a series of inane errands to try to salve his mood.

“You’re a married man, are you not?”

Oh, no, Eloise realized. He’s actually going to say it.

“The media has reported on many affairs you’ve undertaken with female business associates, not to mention actresses and models.”

Patrick was struck dumb. So was Eloise. She’d seen those stories, too—the pictures of him smiling with a pretty, younger girl on his arm at one gala or another—but nothing ever really came of it. Patrick’s marriage had prevailed.

Masoud was still talking. “We can’t have someone associated with Khan Capital being represented that way in the press. In our country, we respect women, and we honor our wives.”

“You don’t know anything about me and my wife.”

“What I know is this,” Masoud said coolly. “You have a wonderful company, Mr. Gainsborough, and it would be a pleasure to do business with MAFA. But I need more. I need to know that it would be advisable to do business with you. The executives in our country represent the people, and the people of Al-Zhera rely on strong traditions of mutual respect. This behavior, this…what was the word?”

He leaned over and one of his associates whispered something in his ear.

“Yes. This womanizing cannot be tolerated. If you are to become affiliated with Khan Capital, you will have to espouse the ideals our country holds dear. Live a conservative life, prioritize your family, and end the fraternization with women other than your wife. If that is something you can agree to do, then sign the clause and we can move forward. But, if not, I’m afraid we have a problem.”

Masoud sat back in his chair, regarding Patrick, waiting.

Patrick stared at Masoud in disbelief.

Eloise, shaky with nerves at the power struggle that was playing out before her, watched to see who would flinch first.