Tessa's encouragement, despite Kathy's very real fears, did help her calm down. Tessa helped her pick out a black dress, leaning more towards professional than flirtatious on Kathy's insistence. As much as Tessa (and secretly Kathy as well) might have wanted this to be a date, there was a much more significant possibility that it was work-related. And if she was about to be reprimanded for sending inappropriate texts at work, it was probably best not to show up in something with a neckline deeper than its hem.

Still, she applied her makeup carefully and wore her best earrings in the secret hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't what she thought it was.

"You look great," Tessa said as Kathy gave herself one last critical look-over in the mirror. "If he didn't mean this as a date before, he'll change his mind as soon as he sees you."

"As long as he doesn't fire me, I don't care what happens," Kathy said, trying to convince herself as much as Tessa.

"Text me and let me know how it goes," Tessa demanded as Kathy headed out the door. "And make sure you send it to the right person this time!"

Kathy waved goodbye to her friend and headed out to wait for the taxi. She wasn’t sure how the evening was going to go and worried she might need to drown her sorrows in a glass of wine or three if she did end up being fired.

She'd agreed to meet Tehar at the restaurant, but she hadn't recognized the name of the place and she was surprised to find the directions she looked up would be taking her downtown, right to the coast. The restaurant, it turned out, was attached to a five-star luxury hotel. It was a beautiful modern building, the unusually-shaped front paneled in what looked like oxidized copper, which lit up golden and green in the early evening lights.

Somewhat unsure of herself, Kathy felt her confidence drop lower as the cab approached the restaurant, seeing the men in suit jackets and women in fine gowns seated within. She was glad she'd decided to dress up, but she still felt outclassed. She hadn't been expecting something this fancy for what was, in her estimation, most likely a firing.

Sheikh Tehar was waiting for her out front and smiled when he saw her, much more warmly than she'd expected.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't keep you waiting," Kathy said as she got out of the taxi, tipping the driver quickly, and approaching him. He was wearing a clean, loose white suit which further enhanced his dark features. He made it look incredible.

"You're right on time," he assured her. "And you look stunning. I hope you don't mind eating here. It's a favorite of mine."

"It looks a bit out of my price range," Kathy admitted, a little embarrassed.

"Oh, don't be silly, I'm paying of course," Tehar said at once. "You're here on my insistence after all. Shall we go in?"

He offered her his arm, gesturing to the doors with the other, and Kathy accepted, suddenly unsure what to expect. Inside, he didn't give anyone his name but simply nodded to the maître d’, who seemed to recognize him on sight and guided them at once to an open table in a private corner of the balcony, sheltered by a screen of ornately inscribed steel and a host of fragrant green decorative plants.

Once seated, they were hidden entirely from the rest of the restaurant, left alone with the incredible view of the bay and the Miami skyline. Kathy didn't think she'd ever eaten anywhere so beautiful.

"The Grand tasting, please," Tehar ordered as they sat. "Wine pairings included. I called ahead to the kitchen about my guest's dietary restrictions. Make certain they know this is the Sheikh's table and nothing is to come in contact with seafood."

The maître d’ murmured his polite assurances that it would be done and vanished off to the kitchens.

"I eat here often," Tehar said, settling into his seat and unfolding his napkin. "You have nothing to worry about. The chef is a master at what she does. Nothing gets past her."

"I doubt I'd have the courage to say anything if it did," Kathy replied, a bit intimidated. "This place is gorgeous. Way out of my league."

"Nonsense," Tehar declared with implacable certainty. "A woman like you makes any environment conform to her. You look perfectly at home here, as you would anywhere."

It was probably the most thoughtful and specific compliment Kathy had ever received from a man, and he'd delivered it so offhandedly he might as well have been commenting on the weather. Kathy found herself uncharacteristically flustered. This was not going at all how she'd expected it to.

The first course of what, it turned out, was an eight-course service, arrived quickly. The waiter called it a Salad of Holland. It was white asparagus touched with a surprisingly sweet crème fraîche and decorated with slivers of orange zest and tiny sprigs of basil. It was beautiful to look at, if rather confusing to Kathy's inexperienced palate to taste. A moment later, the sommelier arrived with a young Grüner Veltliner which was more to her liking. The plate itself was only a few bites, and she sipped her wine as she waited for the next one.

"So, you're probably wondering why I asked you here tonight," Tehar said over his own wine.

"I was wondering how to bring it up," Kathy confessed. "I assume it's about the text?"

Tehar nodded, and Kathy felt her face redden and she fought the urge to drain her wine glass. She sat back in her chair, trying to sink into herself.

"I wanted to tell you I accept your proposal."

Kathy nearly choked on her drink.

"Pardon me?" she asked, sputtering. She couldn't have heard him right.

"I would be happy to father a child with you," Tehar said, cool and formal as ever.

Kathy knew on some level that she must have looked like a slack-jawed idiot, mouth open and face blistering with embarrassment.

"Sir, that was," she stammered, searching for an explanation. "That was an accident. I was trying to text my friend. I would never—"

He held up a hand to stop her and her mouth shut instantly.

"I am not an idiot, Miss Burgess," he said.

"Please, call me Kathy," she interrupted before she could stop herself.

"Kathy," Tehar corrected himself graciously. "I am aware the text was not meant for me. But I empathize with the sentiment regardless. Are you aware of where I come from?"

Kathy took a moment to gather herself, confused.

"Um, Abu Sadah, right?" Kathy shrugged, not knowing much more than that. It had seemed wrong to pry into his private life when he seemed to go to such an effort to keep it separate from his work. "You're part of the royal family?"

"I am," Tehar confirmed. "Not that unusual in and of itself. The ruling family is quite large. But I am the nephew of the ruling sheikh which means, in addition to a great deal more money and responsibility than the more tertiary members of the family, there is a possibility, however distant, that I might one day become sheikh. It is highly unlikely, but I have been groomed for the position regardless. And part of that grooming requires me to have an heir for my titles and properties."

"Oh," Kathy said, beginning to understand. "But you're young. Surely there must be someone…"

Tehar smiled.

"I may not look it," he replied. "But I am nearing forty. My parents have grown very impatient for me to finally ensure their posterity. All I have ever had time for is my work, and I find it unlikely that will ever change. I don't have the time or inclination to go searching for a relationship."

"I feel the same," Kathy said, shocked by the sudden empathy she felt with the Sheikh. "My father's will says I have to have a child before the end of the year or my inheritance will be claimed by the bank, including the house that's been in my family for generations. I just want to focus on my work; that's all I've ever wanted. But I don't want to have a baby with just anyone. I just want there to be—"

"A connection," Tehar interrupted, leaning towards her. "I don't need her to be the love of my life, but the mother of my child cannot be a stranger to me."

"Exactly." Kathy realized she was leaning towards him as well, staring into his dark eyes and seeing him stare back at her, neither of them with a hint of self-consciousness, caught up in the moment of sudden understanding.

The waiter cleared his throat and they both sat back, caught off guard as he arrived with the second course, sweet slices of caramelized pork belly accompanied by a robust pinot noir. The thin slices of crispy, sticky pork were so good Kathy felt dizzy, mourning that there was only a few bites worth. It was almost enough to make her forget the strange situation she was in. For a few moments, they were both entirely focused on their food. Then it was gone, and in the breathing room between one course and the next, they studied each other across the table.

"You'd really be all right with me, you know, providing your heir?" Kathy asked.

"Of course," Tehar said without hesitation. "We may not have had much personal interaction, but you've worked for me for years. I know you're intelligent, responsible, and beautiful. You're healthy, as far as I'm aware. And most importantly, I know you. I know you're professional, logical. I feel confident we could continue to work together and associate with one another with minimum difficulty. You are, if I may be so blunt, ideal."

It was very unexpected praise.

"What about me?" Tehar asked. "Do I meet your standards? It seems like you've been searching for a while, so I assume they are rigorous."

Kathy considered it for a moment.

"To be honest, they aren't that high," she said. "But guys kept failing to reach them anyway. I just wanted someone nice with a stable income who I could get along with. And preferably no inheritable health conditions."

"Well, I know I check at least two of those boxes," Tehar said with a small chuckle. "It's up to you whether I'm nice enough to get along with."

"I think you sweep all four pretty easily." Kathy laughed, still slightly, delightfully baffled by how this was all turning out.

"Then you'd be willing to try it?" Tehar asked, raising an eyebrow. "Having a child with me?"

Kathy blinked and sat back, considering it. The proposal had come so out of the blue. She was still processing it.

"I need to think about it," she said.

"Take your time," Tehar assured her. "I hardly expected an answer tonight. If you don't mind, we could talk details, however."

"Of course," Kathy nodded, still distracted. "Whatever you need to know."

"I assume you're planning to use in-vitro fertilization?" Tehar asked.

"Yeah," Kathy confirmed. "Unless I unexpectedly really hit it off with someone, IVF seems like the least complicated way of doing things. No offense, but if we end up doing this together that would be my preference."

"No offense taken," Tehar assured her. "I agree; it minimizes complications. I would prefer to keep this as businesslike as possible."

"That's how I feel too," Kathy said with a small smile, a little amazed at how much his feelings seemed to mirror her own.

"Does your father's will stipulate that you have to raise the child?" Tehar asked. "If we do this as separate entities, we’ll need to agree on custody."

"Legally speaking," Kathy replied, "the will doesn't demand anything but that I have the baby. Technically, I could give it up and still inherit. But I don't want to. I want to be a part of this child's life. I can't just bring a baby into the world for the sake of money."

"Very understandable." Tehar nodded, but she thought he seemed a little disappointed. "I would have liked to take sole custody and have the child raised in Abu Sadah by my family there, but I respect your desire to be involved."

"To be honest though," Kathy confessed, "I don't really have the time or resources to raise a child on my own. Maybe we could split custody? Two weeks in Abu Sadah, two weeks with me?"

"That sounds plausible," Tehar agreed. "We can work out the specific details later. Do you have a preference for gender?"

"Not really." Kathy shrugged. "I guess I've always imagined it being a girl."

"My family, for reasons of tradition, would prefer a boy," Tehar said with a look of mild embarrassment. "I am not particularly swayed either way."

"If neither of us really cares and it would make things easier with your family, since we're doing IVF anyway, I wouldn't mind trying for a boy," Kathy said.

"It's something to consider," Tehar said with a nod.

The waiter arrived with the next course, interrupting their conversation again. It was a rich moulard duck fois gras accompanied by a dry Sauternes. It was delicious, and Kathy was beginning to understand and appreciate the small amounts. The food was decadent and almost overwhelming. She wasn't sure she could handle eight plates of this in any more than the current portions. They were silent for a moment, relishing the food.

"I had no idea fois gras was so good," Kathy said with an indulgent little moan. "I've only ever heard awful things about it."

"I know how you feel," Tehar said with a chuckle. "But don't worry. I checked with the kitchen when I first began eating here. The livers are ethically farmed. The ducks and geese are free to roam, and there's no force feeding at all."

"It seems like that would be really difficult to do and remain profitable," Kathy said thoughtfully.

"That is why it's so expensive," Tehar replied, raising his glass.

Kathy suddenly wondered just how much the meal cost and was suddenly more relieved she wasn't expected to pay.

"Exactly how much are you paying for this?" she asked. "If it isn't too rude to ask."

"About three hundred per person," Tehar replied casually, sipping his wine. Kathy choked on her fois gras.

"How—" she sputtered. "I have to help pay for this. There's no way I could let you—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Tehar countered her at once. "I just finished telling you I'm part of the royal family, even aside from my personal business ventures. You may recall I am a sheikh, Miss Burgess. I can more than afford this."

"Even with all the money in the world, I don't think I could justify spending that much on one dinner," Kathy said, feeling lightheaded. "God, that's rent on a small apartment. That's utility bills paid. That's a new computer. That's more than I made a month at my first job after I moved to Florida—and I had to live off of that for nearly a year while I was finishing my BA."

Kathy started counting on her fingers.

"I was spending about sixty, seventy bucks a week on food?" she calculated. "That's two-eighty a month, so dinner for two tonight could have fed me and my roommates for eight weeks."

"Goodness." She couldn't tell if Tehar was more surprised by the numbers or by how quickly and passionately Kathy had rattled them off. "I suppose I've never really had to think about things like that."

"It really caught me by surprise when I moved out," Kathy confided. "My family wasn't rich, but my dad worked hard and was good at what he did. We were comfortably middle class with good savings. Then I had a falling out with my dad and moved across the country, and suddenly that safety was gone. By the time I'd put the down payment on my first apartment, I was flat broke and literally eating at a soup kitchen while I tried to find a job and enough roommates to be able to pay the bills."

"I can't even imagine," Tehar said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. "Even when I left Abu Sadah to begin my business here, it was with my family's full support and financial backing. That kind of insecurity isn't something I've ever experienced."

"With luck, you'll never have to," Kathy said. "No one should have to. Not when we have the resources for…well, for something like this."

Kathy gestured to the opulent restaurant.

"A noble position to take," Tehar replied. "But, unfortunately, not one that I think most wealthy people share."

"Of course not." Kathy shrugged. "Who would want to give this up so that a stranger wouldn't go hungry? Our society doesn't reward people who think of others before themselves. They just get used up."

"Hopefully, the next generation will do better," Tehar said, contemplating his wine.

"I think that's still on us," Kathy said, sitting back. "We have to raise them to be people who would choose selflessness even when everyone else punishes them for it. And we have to make sure the world is still around for them to change."

"Worse than that," Tehar countered. "You and I might raise a son who is as driven and selfless as a saint. But what good does it do when those aren't the priorities of everyone else? What can one person do?"

Kathy nodded, understanding his point.

"Yeah, one person can't change the world." She sipped her wine, thinking hard. "But one person can write the article or give the speech or direct the movie that starts changing people's minds. You can't underestimate the power of one person. Yeah, one person not watering their lawn during a drought doesn't do jack. But one person can start a campaign, draw up a petition, rally their community to call their senators and vote in local elections until better drought regulations are levied against the agricultural and bottled water companies actually using all the water. One person going vegan is useless, but if one person can convince that vegan and his friends to write letters to the governor, maybe they can actually make a difference."

"Essentially, you must acknowledge the individual, but appreciate its influence as part of the whole," Tehar summarized.

"Yeah." Kathy smiled. "You just have to remember that people are people. Every single one of us."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're fascinating?" Tehar said, putting down his wine.

Kathy, caught off guard, laughed.

"Not really," she said. "But thanks. You're pretty interesting yourself."

"You've always done excellent work as an anchor," Tehar said. "But I can't help feeling you have more of a field journalist's sensibilities."

"I do prefer being in the field," Kathy confirmed. "I love traveling and getting to be a part of the story. But the pay is better in anchoring and what I report on actually gets seen, instead of forgotten in the back page of some travel journal."

"Would you like to go back to field work some day?" Tehar asked.

"Definitely," Kathy replied. "But with a kid to look after, I couldn't travel. I remember what that was like with my dad, and I'd rather not put a kid through that. And I couldn't afford it, anyway."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Tehar said. "As the mother of my child, regardless of our continued relationship, you would receive a generous stipend. Very generous. I would make sure of it."

"That really isn't necessary," Kathy said, flustered. "I do fine on my own and with my inheritance—"

"You might be raising my son half of the year," Tehar interrupted, calm and implacable. "If I have any say in it at all, the both of you will never want for anything."

"You're too generous," Kathy said, meaning it.

"It's easy to be generous when you have more money than you could spend in a lifetime." Tehar chuckled, and the waiter brought out another course.

It was a beautiful, single slice of rare wagyu sirloin served with marrow. It looked like art on the plate and melted in Kathy's mouth, unlike the Shiraz that came with it, which went straight to her increasingly light head. She'd have to be more careful about just tasting the wine rather than finishing the glass or she'd end up drunk, which was no way to end a…date? Interview? Whatever this was.

"What about you?" she asked as they ate and relished the brief delight of the delicious meat. "What was it like growing up royal?"

Tehar considered the question for a moment.

"I am unsure how to describe it, having never known anything else," he admitted. "I never went hungry, or lonely. I had a dozen siblings and cousins to run wild with across the palaces and villas of our parents. I started my formal education at six, and much of my time was spent with private tutors learning various skills and histories, and the names and lineages of my extended family. It's considered a sign of respect to know a family's history, so I was expected to know them all, among many, many other things."

"Sounds like hard work for a six-year-old," Kathy said.

"I had very little patience for it at first," Tehar admitted with a smile. "But I soon grew to understand and accept my duty to my family. I had a cousin, Shadaf, who was often ill. We would study together, or avoid our work and talk or read to each other. He has been my closest friend for all my life."

"That reminds me of Tessa and me," Kathy said with a grin. "We've been friends since middle school. Some bully stole my pencil case and called me fat. I was kind of a heavy kid. Tessa punched him right in the nose. We've been best friends ever since. When I moved out here from Colorado, she followed a few months later. We even have condos in the same building now."

Tehar nodded in understanding, his expression still touched with the fondness of remembering his own best friend.

"Sometimes I think we put too much importance on romantic relationships," Tehar said. "I've never felt the need to seek out someone to be in love with. But I could not have made it to where I am without friends to rely on. I believe friendships can be just as important and fulfilling as romantic relationships."

"Definitely," Kathy agreed. "I also don't think it's fair that we expect our romantic partners to also be our best—and sometimes only—friend. Romantic partners and friends fulfill very different emotional needs. It's practically impossible to expect one person to be able to be both things. We're social creatures. We need emotional support beyond just who we're sleeping with."

"I couldn't agree more," Tehar said, smiling.

They continued to talk as three more courses proceeded and then well after them, leaning across the table towards each other as their conversation rambled through their personal histories through philosophical quandaries and back into details about the possible arrangement.

Kathy was amazed by how seriously she was considering it by the time the meal ended. They sat nursing their dessert wines and discussing non-interference and objectivity in reporting, and Kathy searched herself for any sign of doubt. He was her boss, after all, and an incredibly powerful man. This wasn't something she should go into lightly. But her heart was already sold. He met all the requirements she'd set, and exceeded them.

Most importantly, she knew him. She'd already known he was a good, reliable person. Working with him for years had shown her his dedication, his focus, how he treated the people under him. She'd seen that he could stay impartial and keep this businesslike. And tonight she'd seen that he was someone she liked on a personal level as well. Someone she would be able to get along with ten years or more down the line for family functions. She could share her child's life with him. It wasn't a grand romance sweeping her off her feet, but it was what she was looking for. And, quite unexpectedly, she found herself looking forward to the next time they would speak.

It was quite late when they finally noticed how long they'd been talking. The wine dizziness had faded to a pleasant warmth as they made their way out into the night. The cool breeze off the bay was refreshing on Kathy's flushed cheeks, and the smell of the salty air was strong.

"Did you take a taxi here?" Tehar asked, surprising her. For a moment, she'd forgotten he was just behind her.

"Yeah," she replied. "I'll be fine, don't worry."

"I've already called my driver," Tehar said. "It would be no trouble for me to take you home."

Kathy considered turning him down, but then realized she couldn't think of a single reason why she should.

"Thank you," she said. "I appreciate it."

It wasn't a far drive. They sat in the back of Tehar's sleek black town car, looking out their own windows in comfortable silence. They were close enough to feel each other's warmth, and for a moment Kathy worried he was going to make a move. But he was as quietly formal as ever, keeping a distinct emotional distance. This was a business transaction and nothing more, and that was both a relief and, in some little, unacknowledged way, a disappointment.

The car pulled up in front of her condo and Tehar got out to walk her to her door.

"Have you decided yet?" he asked as they climbed the stairs. "Whether to accept my offer?"

Kathy hesitated to answer. Part of her wanted to say yes at once, but the rest of her was smart enough to know she was a little tipsy and that this was not a decision to make without sleeping on it.

"Not yet," she said. "I want to really think about this."

"Take all the time you need," Tehar said at once. "But I believe I've already made my decision."

"Really?" Kathy stared at him. "It's that easy for you?"

"I knew the moment you sent me that text," Tehar replied without a hint of doubt.

Kathy's heart skipped a beat. They'd reached her door, and for a moment they paused and Kathy considered inviting him in. Before she could make up her mind if she wanted to, Tehar took her hand, kissed the tops of her fingers like a fairytale prince, and stepped away.

"Goodnight, Miss Burgess," he said.

"Kathy," Kathy corrected him again, instinctively.

"Kathy," he repeated with a small smile, and before she knew it he had vanished down the stairs. Kathy, a little overwhelmed, turned and went inside.

You're home late, Tessa texted as soon as the door shut behind Kathy. What happened? Should I come over?

It went great, Kathy texted back as she shuffled off to bed. I'll tell you in the morning, but I think all my problems are solved.