Chapter Eighteen
After I finish lunch, Raima presents me with a new dress. Not a black kaftan like before, but a silk turquoise maxi dress with long sleeves, a pearl button-up front, and a peter pan collar that takes the outfit from conservative to cute.
Raima tuts at my three-month-old weave. “It is not for me to say, but perhaps you could request a salon appointment with your regular stylist while you are in New Jersey.”
“But do not take it out completely,” Nabida advises. “Sheikh Zahir prefers you with long hair.” She gives me a small smile before returning to my peach gel manicure.
I suppress a snort. They can keep assuming Zahir’s “preference” for long hair is all about the aesthetics. But I know the truth…Zahir prefers me with long hair because he likes pulling it when he drives
