"She's what?" Jay heard his friend Vincent, better known as Cha Cha Malone bark on the speaker phone. 

"A freakin' princess. And I mean the real deal. Afana Nusrat Salima is, according to Wikipedia, a daughter of the current Saudi Royal family. Her mother, identified only as Noor, smuggled her into London when she was 15 to escape the oppression in that country. As a result of the escape, they were apparently attacked by mercenaries assumed to have been sent by other members of the family. The attack was in public when mother and daughter were at a shopping center. A public shooting broke out and the mother was hit. She died on the way to the hospital, after which Afana moved to America and has been living here since."

"America loves Saudi Arabia for all that oil. Why would we be sheltering a chick they don't like?"

"Probably because soon after, the Saudi government released a statement asserting that the royalty had nothing to do with the attack, and that they had disavowed both the women which meant that they had no intention of taking any action against them and didn't care what they did. The exact words of the King were "They have been dead to me and my country the day they left."

"That's some ed up . But wait, why does Wikipedia have an entry on this chick?"

"Because she's some kind of successful writer. She's been all around the place- Harvard, Princeton, Yale. Got a ton of degrees in things like English, Women's Studies, Gender, Politics and Psychology. She teaches in Yale too, and is the author of a book series called The Jigar Chronicles, which is about, and I quote, "a woman who confronts the everyday realism of not being able to connect with another soul in her life."

"Say what?" Malone wasn't good with literature. 

"I have no clue, man. But its pretty damn popular. Been on The New York Times Bestseller list since forever."

"This does not sound real, man. Hell, it sounds like it came out of a book."

"Tell me about it." Jay scrolled through the pages. "She isn't big on public appearances, especially after she was attacked again during an academic conference in goddamn Texas. Guess that explains the bodyguards."

"Well, it is Texas...But c'mon man, she sounds like bad news."

"Yeah..." Jae browsed through the few pictures of her face that were available online. She looked cold and silent. 

"Dude, seriously, don't get mixed up with this woman."

"Of course not. I'm not stupid."

"Eh...dunno about that. Anyway, I gotta go. You keep your little friend in your pants with this one."

"Yeah, yeah.See ya later." He hung up. 

Jae kept staring at the pictures. 

 

...

 

Afana was having her hair arranged when the doorbell rang. She raised a hand to stop her maids and motioned to Michael, her bodyguard. He cautiously moved towards the door, eyes towards the camera screen installed inside. The man at the door, with styled hair and gaudy clothing was familiar. He lived in the building. 

"Who is it, Michael?" Her voice floated from the living room. 

"A neighbor, My Lady."

"Neighbor?" She was bewildered. Afana had barely moved in, and true to her cloistered life, hadn't met anybody. Nobody had attempted friendship either, obviously on account of the heavy security that shadowed her. 

"Shall I ask him to leave?"

"No." She was curious. "Let's not be rude."

He didn't like the idea, but opened the door and put on his most formidable expression. 

...

Jay freaked for a few seconds. The man towering over him was obviously not friendly. Clad in black, he presented the very epitome of intimidation. 

"May I help you?" His voice was gruff.

"Yeah...um..." He fidgeted. "I live in the building, and uh...I was gonna have a party so I was wondering if I could..."

"Let him in, Michael!" Her voice rang from within with an edge of authority. 

The giant man suppressed a grunt, and stood aside. "Please come in, Sir."

Jay hesitated, but his doubts were laid to rest the moment he saw her. She had come to the door, and Michael moved to shield her with his body. But she waved him away and spoke. "Hello."

She had obviously just showered. The scent of soap and flower engulfed her in its fragrant maw, while her damp hair was laid across her shoulders like scattered rainclouds. She wore a gossamer robe that slightly clung to her in places and se glowed. She actually glowed.

Jay had to take a moment to breathe. 

"Hi...I'm..my name's Jay Park." He awkwardly held out a hand, not sure what the custom was. Maybe he should bow?

Michael tried to cut in again, but she shot him a look. 

"Hello, Mr. Park."

Her scent was making him a little heady. What was that? Jasmine? Mimosa? Patchouli?

"Hello. So...I'm having a party this Friday. Just some people from the building. I noticed that you're new, so I was wondering if you'd like to drop by. If you wanted to, of course..." He trailed off lamely.

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible, Sir." Michael sounded a little scandalised. 

Afana looked at Jay in silence for a few moments. There was a certain rugged beauty to him. He used too much product, and was far too flashy for her tastes. But he seemed unashamed of himself. His hesitation was something else, certainly not a lack of self-belief. He seemed so...real. 

"I'll try to come by." She smiled. 

Dear God...He bit his lip to suppress a gasp.