Rayan - Son of the Desert. Indira Jackson

      2014 - Dubai – A lawyer of all things

      Carina soon realised that the driver was steering the taxi into the noble part of the city. The streets were getting even wider, cleaner and emptier.

      With few exceptions, exclusive cars could be seen on the side of the road. Others were overtaking the taxi with far too much speed. Organising competitions with high-priced cars seemed to be one type of leisure activity around here.

      The taxi stopped at a big building with huge mirrored-glass windows, dark glass doors and golden door handles.

      She paid the driver and got out. The surroundings were impressive: you could almost smell the luxury all around.

      On the outside of the building, in front of which she was standing, she could read the name of the lawyer’s office on a black marble panel, which was written in golden letters – of course.

      "They are not even going to let me through that door!", Carina thought, feeling intimidated. Although to give up now, without even trying was not on her list. As she had just arrived here she was not going to back-out or turn around. At least she would try.

      She took a deep breath and opened the door.

      Much to her surprise, an access manager in an impressive uniform just smiled politely at her, asked her to put her name in the visitors’ book and after that let her pass to the elevator without hindrance. She went to the upper level, which obviously was completely occupied by the lawyer’s office, which she could guess from a building plan inside the elevator’s cabin.

      As she exited the elevator, the first thing she noticed was the comfortable temperature and then the deep plush floor carpets, which seemed to be fairly expensive and also swallowed every sound. The walls were lined with what seemed like priceless paintings, which simply served to emphasise the office's expensive and impressive luxury. Carina did not know the artist and therefore had no means to estimate their value. Additionally, she had to admit, she did not know much about art in the first place to even dare a guess.

      A lady dressed in European clothing immediately came to Carina and greeted her in English: "How can I help you? Do you have an appointment with one of our lawyers?”

      "No, I do not have any appointment, sorry. But I would like to speak to Mister Taib Riad, if that would be possible? I have a message for him. “

      "I see – just a moment please.“ She went back to her desk and picked up the phone.

      After talking briefly she said: “I am really sorry, but Mister Riad is just on his way to a meeting. He asked if you could leave the message with me.”

      Carina had no intention at all to let the letter get out of her hands. Therefore she replied: “I am afraid that is not possible. Then she quickly added: “because it is a personal message for his eyes only”. When hearing this, the lady sceptically lifted her eyebrows but still she remained extremely polite. “Would it be possible then, that you at least tell me the name of the person that gave you the message for my superior?”

      "That would be His Excellency Sheikh Rayan Suekran al Medina y Nayran - personally“, Carina replied somewhat proudly.

      The face of the lady reflected her surprise when hearing the name, but she quickly got herself under control and returned once again to her over-friendly smile.

      "Just another moment please“ – and again she picked up the receiver. This time she spoke for a little bit longer. When putting the phone down again, she said: "Mister Riad is going to receive you now. Please come with me.”

      Carina could hardly believe her good luck and hurried to follow the assistant. They went along the hallway to her right until the end, around the corner and then again until the end. The names on the office doors they passed told her that several lawyers were obviously working here for this company.

      Already the door to Taib Riad’s office left no doubt that it was bigger and more impressive than the others. He seemed to be very important here - if not the big boss.

      The lady knocked and let Carina go inside without waiting for a reply from the inside. Then she left and closed the door silently behind her.

      For a moment Carina felt lost within this big room. Then she saw the man behind the desk.

      "Good morning. My name is Taib Riad. You have a personal message for me?“ He talked to her in grammatically correct English with an obvious American accent. His voice, as well as his eyes, clearly showed that he had doubts about the fact that Carina could really provide such a letter. He eyed her up from head-to-toe, then his gaze fixed on the necklace, which caused him to furrow his brows.

      "I really don’t like that guy", Carina thought. She also looked her new acquaintance up and down. He was only half a head taller than her, was very slim and had wiry movements. Carina would not have called him unattractive, but this penetrating, erratic look from his pitch black eyes told her that he was no one to fool around with and that he had no sense of humour.

      "Isn’t that just great?! And this guy is supposed to help me. It is more likely that hell would freeze over”, Carina thought to herself, while not saying anything and smiling bravely.

      "Is that the message?“, he asked again with forced politeness and Carina realised that she had surely stared at him impolitely. On top of that, she had not introduced herself yet.

      "Yes this is it. I am very sorry. My name is Carina Hartmann. I am from Germany.“ As if that explained anything. She handed the envelope over to him.

      He looked at it quickly and again furrowed his brows. “Well, I can confirm that the letter indeed is from His Excellency, even if I am not able to understand the largest part of the message. It is German, I suppose? Well apart from that it seems to be that only the last sentence of the letter is directed at me, isn’t it?“

      Again Taib looked at her calculatingly, as if he was trying to read her thoughts. “The Sheikh is one of our best clients and also a friend. I represent him in many cases. The Arabic phrase, in case you have not already translated it, means that I should be friendly to you and should answer your questions. Questions about what Miss Hartmann?“ The last part sounded much more like interrogation than like "friendly support“, and Carina had to swallow hard. This man gave her the creeps in spite of his polite behaviour. She thought about what to say and then sighed: "Well, I am about to write a book about him and … well …” At that point he interrupted her and was suddenly not so polite anymore: "You are not serious – this is a joke, right?” He did not look amused at all and instead laughed in an unfriendly way. "Do you really think that I would answer one single question? So that afterwards you can write any trash about him?“ He laughed again without any humour. His behaviour caused Carina to slowly become angry: "Well, obviously he thought you were going to reply to my questions, otherwise he would not have sent me to you, is that not true? Because this seems indeed to be your address and YOUR name, which is in HIS handwriting on the letter?“

      The answer was an Arabic curse, which seemed to mean something like: "he must have lost his mind“.

      He picked up the phone and spoke briefly.

      "I have just delayed my conference for half an hour. Therefore – what can I do for you and why did he send you to me in the first place?“ When he said this, he looked like he wanted to add “and what have I done to deserve this”.

      The following exchange did not bring much new information for Carina, even though she tried her best in asking clever questions.

      Only the matter about the origin of the blue-coloured eyes of the Sheikh the lawyer replied to openly:

      they were inherited from his German grandmother. It was the same reason why he was able to speak German almost accent-free, as he had grown up with two languages.

       Yes, his granny was still alive, in Zarifa.