24
WELCOME TO our cave,” Jeremy said to Mattar Al-Falasi. They were at the Buddha Lounge, a subterranean nightclub in the Meatpacking District, tucked into a private VIP room that was indeed styled as a cave.
Alena, after some protest, had furnished a friend, Ivy, to be Mattar’s date. Ivy was Asian, still modeling, although not as much as she used to. She was beautiful and aloof; Jeremy was unsure if her blankness was a form of superiority, or just the expression of her essential dullness.
Mattar was dressed in a suit, though without a tie. Jeremy had yet to see the guy without a suit jacket on. Jeremy was dressed more casually, though no less expensively, in a long-sleeved Armani polo shirt, not wanting to look like he’d just stepped out of a business meeting when hitting a club. Both Alena and Ivy looked great, of course: Ivy in the standard little black dress, a sleeveless number with slits to midthigh, Alena in a scoop-necked turquoise dress that was one of Jeremy’s favorites.
Private rooms at the Buddha required bottle service, Jeremy shelling out $350 for a fifth of Grey Goose that he could buy at a liquor store for less than forty bucks. Not that he gave a shit: being out with Mattar made tonight a business expense; his bar tab would be on the company. His father still kept him on what Jeremy considered a tight financial leash, essentially forcing him to live on his salary while all the real money was tied up in long-term trusts and property he wasn’t allowed to touch.
Jeremy had never been able to live within his means, going all the way back to high school. It wasn’t his fault: everyone knew how rich his family was, so people had certain assumptions about his lifestyle. It wasn’t like he could explain that his father had him on an allowance that made his wealth a fraction of what people assumed.
The blond bartender had made them all martinis, showing off her cleavage as she did so. She left the bottle chilling in a gold-plated ice tray. It was Jeremy’s first drink of the night: this was a business outing, after all, and Jeremy wanted to stay at least somewhat on his toes around Mattar. “Cheers,” he said. “To new friends.”
They all clinked glasses, but the moment felt forced, nobody but Jeremy even bothering to try to act happy about being there. Jeremy did not understand why Mattar seemed so distracted; the whole evening had been constructed for him, Jeremy thinking he’d put together exactly what Mattar had requested.
“Is your family back in the city?” he asked Mattar.
“My father is in Dubai; my brother has gone to Los Angeles,” Mattar said.
Jeremy knew better than to explicitly bring up business, but without that he was at a loss as to what to talk about. “Ivy just got back from Paris,” he said, the first thing that popped into his head.
Mattar turned to her, his expression blankly polite. “Is that so? It is a beautiful city, of course, but for me I find the relationship between the French and the Arabs too difficult.”
“More than with Americans?” Alena asked, Jeremy not at all liking where this was going.
“It can be difficult with the Americans as well, of course. Iraq, the support for Israel.”
“I was actually thinking 9/11,” Alena replied.
Mattar paused and nodded his head slightly in concession. “Yes, of course. But some Americans seem to think that 9/11 was the first time that America encountered the Arab world.”
“Encountered?” Alena said.
This was heading off the rails, Jeremy thought. “Let’s not,” he said.
“It was of course a completely horrible tragedy,” Mattar said, ignoring Jeremy’s interjection. “But my point was that, even so, the Americans, the New Yorkers especially, they still see me as a person when I am here, not as an Arab terrorist. In Paris I’m simply an Arab, nothing else.”
“We’re the new world,” Jeremy said, talking just so that Alena was not.
Alena stood abruptly, saying she wanted to dance. Ivy stood up immediately. “Not for me,” Mattar said. “But please go; it’s fine.”
“I’ll keep Mattar company,” Jeremy said. “You two have fun.”
Alena and Ivy made their way out to the dance floor. Jeremy smiled at Mattar, then took a sip of his drink. “I hope this place is okay?”
“It’s nice,” Mattar said, glancing around as if he’d neglected to actually notice his surroundings.
“And the company is satisfactory?”
Mattar hesitated, but it seemed to be more out of politesse than actual uncertainty. “Actually, if you want to know the truth, I prefer the other one.”
Jeremy made no effort to hide his surprise. “You mean Alena?”
“If you will forgive my being blunt, it is the white girls I prefer,” Mattar said with a slight smile. “And perhaps it is also true that I like the difficult women also.”
“I didn’t realize,” Jeremy said, laughing because he didn’t know what else to do.
“If the Asian one is attractive to you, then perhaps …” Mattar trailed off.
Jeremy’s smile was straining, but he held it. “No, but … Alena’s with me.”
Mattar flushed. “She’s your girlfriend?”
“Maybe that’s not quite the right word, but we’re seeing each other, yes.”
“I thought—Please excuse me,” Mattar said.
“A simple misunderstanding,” Jeremy said quickly, finishing off his martini. “Don’t think twice.”
“You must think me a crude man. Where I am from, it’s very different with men and women. When I see women advertising their bodies, perhaps I make assumptions I should not make. But that is no excuse for offending you.”
“It’s fine. No big deal,” Jeremy said. He told himself that was true. Jeremy decided to find the whole thing funny. Hell, it was funny, when you looked at it from a certain angle. Not that Alena would think so. She just wouldn’t have the right point of view.