Femme Empire

Full Moon

"He is not in today.", Lola informed me the moment I stepped into the office.

I stopped short for a moment. Emir Aslan taking a day off from work.

Did the sun rise in the east today?

"Is he alive?", I asked her. " He never misses work. In all the time I have been here, he has been here every single day and also on holidays."

"It's Eid-al-fitr. It is the only holiday he takes during the year.",she said pushing her chair back from the desk.

Oh! I had completely forgotten. I had had a hand-delivered invitation from Jamal for a feast at his mansion. I was so getting old.

I wiped an imaginary tear away.

"Oh, by the way Lola! I need a date for a party. You up for tonight?"

"I never decline invitations from pretty ladies.", she winked and went to fetch me a cup of coffee.

____________

The celebrations of Eid was a huge affair at Jamal's garden house. He was an excellent host known for his Gatsby-esque parties. Celebrities, politicians, business magnates, kings, princesses and socialites from all over the world flocked to his parties. His parties were effortlessly fun, had the best fine dining experience and breathtaking views of the city's skyline. The invitation list however was exclusively selected by Jamal. His hospitality was legendary.

I always prided myself for playing hostess with him. He was a little reserved, yes but I could lighten the atmosphere and make it easy. I had always had that talent.

It was always an eclectic mix of business and pleasure. The occasional long-legged ballet dancer from the Bolshoi Company in Russia or some famous soprano from Japan that he had liked would fly in. There would always be an avant garde artist or an art collector Or a world-renowned designer at his parties. He was a patron of the arts.

Of course most of it was strategic planning. People coveted conversations and vied for power at these parties. Socialites acted catty, people made deals but the wine flowed, the mood was hedonistic and people generally enjoyed themselves.

The best conversations occurred here. People came from all walls of life. They shared their values and beliefs.

But most of all, all these people shared a sense of power and responsibility and passionate patrons of charity. That was the only thing Jamal needed us to do. To give back as heartily as we took. He himself was committed to many causes close to his heart and I planned to do something with him very soon.

So, he was the most famous frat boy in the world in short.

Prince Jamal was the heart in every girl's eye in the room.

But, his heart belonged to none. He kept it sheltered privately under the deepest armour. He was a prince, a businessman, a philanthropist, a champion equestrian, a marvellous actor who played his roles effortlessly. But, I suspected he was very rarely himself.

Even ten years of knowing him, he revealed himself through tiny cracks of the aura that he had created.

My mentor was not a man I claimed to know.

We rarely shared mint and chocolate ice cream over his latest fling.

Lola and I went inside arm in arm and drew the eyes of the entire room. Lola looked spectacular in her purple off-the-shoulder dress with bouffant sleeves and an elegant string of pearls.

I was wearing a dapper tweed three-piece tux in beige with a pocketwatch and moccasins. My hair was coiffed into Betty Davis style and my lips were slashed with red lipstick.