A Ghost Encounter: My Time with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Part Thirty-Three: Hassan

My heart starts racing uncontrollably.

This is the whole reason we're here, the whole reason I'm crossing my boundaries tonight.

Out of the entire building, he's the only one that matters.

My performance is for him.

So I keep going.

The woman who is performing with me decides to move to a different side of the stage and I have to perform on my own.

Shit!

Hassan approaches our table and Ahmad stands excitedly, bringing Hassan into a friendly embrace.

Ghost and Hassan are introduced to one another, shake hands, and then Ghost looks over at me with eyes that say, Don't fuck this up.

Too much pressure.

Fuckkkkkk.

Hassan and his guards sit at the same table as ours—bringing more chairs in—and watch me perform.

I can see Hassan and Ahmad whispering to each other as their eyes stay locked on me, clearly discussing something about yours truly.

I feel like I could throw up.

After a few moments, I see Ahmad motion for me to come off the stage and over to them.

Thank God. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep that up.

As I approach the table I notice Hassan staring at my breasts.

Shit! I forgot my dress!

So now I have to sit there topless...I hate my life.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can tell Ghost is staring daggers at us.

Why was he concerned about me? Seems like he might be the one who can't handle this mission.

"Sarah, this is my good friend Hassan. The man we are doing business with," Ahmad introduces us.

Hassan reaches his hand out to grab mine, kissing it and then saying in Persian, "What a beautiful woman you are."

"And what a handsome man you are," I tell him, batting my eyes, and feigning bashfulness.

Ghost and I familiarized ourselves with this country's native tongue in preparation for this mission.

Hassan gets up from his seat and sits next to me, very closely, and whispers in my ear, "Let's go somewhere private."

Shit.

I look at Ghost with apprehension in my eyes, but I nod my head at Hassan, and we get up from the table.

"Headed somewhere?" Ghost asks us, trying to stop the inevitable.

"We'll be back," Hassan smirks mischievously at Ghost.

Ghost makes eye contact with me and all I see in his gaze is pure ice, not for me, but for Hassan.

This is the price we pay for the mission.

As Hassan and I make our way to a private room I can see Cyra moving closer to Ghost, capitalizing on the opportunity, and rubs her chest against his.

This fucking bitch.

Hassan and I enter a private room.

The room is red, there are couches, and the lights are dim.

I don't care what happens I am not, and I repeat not, having sex with Hassan.

I have to find a way to entertain him—please him—but not at the sacrifice of myself.

Fuck, what am I gonna do?