Tarek eyed Idella with an amused expression as she huffed and rolled her eyes at him. She tapped her fingernail on the arm of the chair and pursed her lips. He sat behind his desk, she was settled in her own seat beside him, and they waited for the meeting she had reluctantly agreed to.
When Adel, Dhamar, and Emin entered his office, Idella immediately became relaxed, the glamorous singer persona washing over her—until Butrus entered a moment later. Her eyes slightly narrowed and she surreptitiously palmed the decorative letter opener lying near the corner of his desk. He would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching her so closely.
“Idella,” each of the men greeted—except for Butrus.
It was like watching two equally matched predators sizing each other up. Tarek didn’t try to hide how
