Chapter 3

It’s 8:00 pm Monday in Bosnia. Zeyd, already home, reviews his grandfather Haris’s business proposal. The aromas of dark roast coffee and sandalwood from a flickering candle mingle with the complex scents of bergamot, vetiver, and amber rising from perfume samples on his desk. His grandfather approved his suggested location; implementation is now his responsibility. While he scans the text on raw materials, his phone vibrates. A message from Samantha.

A memory flashes: Tuesday, 8:00 p.m., a tense family dinner. He secretly reads Samantha’s message while Haris, his wealthy and demanding grandfather, dominates the conversation. While Haris is briefly absent, Zeyd exchanges messages with Samantha, learning of her false claim of marriage and two children. He reveals he’s single. Haris returns, noticing Zeyd’s distraction. A hastily invented excuse about business locations and a promised report buy him time. Later, alone, he messages Samantha again, expressing his desire for a family. Guilt-ridden, she shifts the conversation to his English fluency. Their exchange ends as her shuttle arrives.

“Hi, how are you?” Samantha’s message reads. A sudden tightness in his chest. He should focus on the proposal, the board meeting looming, but he replies, “Hello, I’m fine. How about you?” The memory of his grandfather’s sharp gaze makes him fidget. He rereads her message, a faint smile touching his lips, quickly replaced by a frown. He taps his fingers, the silence stretching, a familiar hollowness replacing the joy her messages usually bring. This is more than a simple connection.

Samantha’s app freezes as she tries to delete her message. When it recovers, Zeyd’s reply is there. Her heart pounds; a wave of guilt washes over her. She wants to stop, to create distance. A deep-seated fear of intimacy, born from past hurts, takes hold. She hesitates, then types a hurried reply:

“I’m fine. But honestly, that message wasn’t for you. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

She expects no reply. But then:

“It’s okay! No worries? So what are you doing right now?”

A cold dread grips her. She lies, “I’m taking care of my kids,” the lie a shield. She clings to the distance, to safety. Silence. Then, hours later, at work, a buzz.

Zeyd hesitated, embarrassed by his assumption. He’d almost forgotten her claims of marriage and children. Hours passed. He wrestled with his phone, finally typing: "Sorry for not responding, I’m just a little bit busy," a sigh escaping as he hits send. Sleepiness weighs on him, but no reply comes.

Samantha, engrossed in work, remains unreachable. Her superior’s presence and company policy forbidding phone use prevent a response.

Exhaustion claims Zeyd at 3:00 AM. He drifts into a restless sleep, the business proposal forgotten. He dreams of a cold winter’s evening in Zenica, a small boy, lost and alone, his pleas for alms unanswered.

His phone vibrates, jolting him awake.

It’s 4:00 AM in Bosnia (11:00 AM in Asia). Samantha’s lunch break. The canteen buzzes with conversation; the smell of rice and fried chicken hangs in the air. Zeyd’s message appears: "Sorry for not responding, I’m just a little bit busy." She hesitates, then sends a brief, neutral reply: "It’s ok. No worries."

Zeyd wakes from his nightmare, a smile touching his lips as he reads her message.

Days turn into weeks. They continue to communicate, a push and pull of connection and doubt. Samantha distrusts strangers; she reminds herself, "Do not become attached." Zeyd feels it’s a waste of his scarce free time. Yet, they continue.

Their friendship blossoms. Zeyd’s kindness chips away at Samantha’s defenses. She confides in him, finding solace. He makes time for her, knowing she waits. Unknowingly, feelings deepen. Samantha falls for Zeyd, clinging to her lie. Zeyd feels a growing attraction, dismissing it, believing her married. Their lack of mutual friends and the impossibility of meeting shields her lie.

They share moments. Zeyd speaks of marriage and family, mentioning women. Samantha feels a pang of jealousy, wishing him happiness. His failed dates bring a complex mix of sadness and relief. She fears losing their connection.

Zeyd notices her reactions, her jealousy, her sadness. He reassures her their friendship can continue even if he has a girlfriend.

Samantha remains skeptical, haunted by past experiences. Her striking beauty, often making other women insecure, adds to her apprehension. Zeyd, seeing only her curated social media images, remains unaware.

Their future remains uncertain. Will their friendship endure? Will their unspoken feelings surface? The pressure of Zeyd’s upcoming workload, however, threatens to disrupt the delicate balance of their growing connection.

It’s 1:00 pm Thursday in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The H Summit Holdings boardroom hummed with controlled efficiency. Zeyd, representing his grandfather, addressed the assembled board members. The first agenda item: quarterly financial reports and dividend payouts. The second: his grandfather Haris’s new venture—a perfume manufacturing company.

Zeyd began his presentation on the business proposal, detailing the raw materials. “Perfume is a mixture of fragrant essential oils and aroma compounds, fixatives, and solvents used to give the human body, objects, and living spaces a pleasant smell…” His phone vibrated discreetly in his pocket. He resisted the urge to check it; he was in front of the board. He knew it was Samantha; 8:00 pm in Asia, her usual messaging time.

He continued, his fingers drumming lightly on the table, “…and regarding suppliers, I’ve already secured a reliable company to meet our needs.” His phone vibrated again. A subtle frown touched his lips; he wondered what was wrong.

“Our target customers… millennial women, young men, and…” His phone vibrated a third time. He fought the urge to check it, focusing on the target market presentation.

He finished, answering the board’s numerous questions—not out of disagreement, but genuine interest. The project was approved; implementation would be discussed at the next meeting.

An hour later, the meeting adjourned. Board members lingered, offering congratulations and expressing confidence in Zeyd’s leadership. They believed this project, under his direction, would be highly successful and profitable. Zeyd, known for his business acumen, was seen as the ideal person to oversee the venture.

Alone in the boardroom, Zeyd finally pulled out his phone. Three messages from Samantha: “Hello.” “How are you?” “Can I ask your opinion about something?” He started to reply, “Yes, tell me what it is,” when his secretary entered.

“Excuse me, Sir. Your grandfather has arrived and wants to see you in his office. He needs a report on the board meeting.”

“Okay. Tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Zeyd gathered his materials, intending to go to his grandfather’s office. But he paused, spending another three minutes waiting for Samantha’s reply. He knew once he entered his grandfather's office, responding would be impossible.

Three minutes passed; no reply. He sighed, took a deep breath, and left the boardroom. He headed toward the elevator, checking his phone one last time. Samantha had replied. Lost in reading, he bumped into a beautiful woman standing before the elevator.

“Oops! I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, but next time watch where you’re going.” She smiled.

Zeyd was mesmerized. He didn’t realize he was staring until she spoke.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Nothing. I’m Zeyd,” he stammered, introducing himself.

“I know you. You’re Zeyd. You’ll be the next CEO.”

He smiled, pressing the elevator button. “I’m Nea.”

They entered the elevator. “Where are you going, Nea?”

“To your grandfather’s office. I have documents for him.” She showed him the papers. “And you?”

“Same place.”

They reached the tenth floor and entered Haris’s office. Haris welcomed them warmly. Nea was the daughter of a manager from a subsidiary company.

Zeyd reported on the board meeting while Nea delivered the documents. At the end of the day, Haris suggested Zeyd drive Nea home; her car was having trouble.

Zeyd readily agreed. He sensed a mutual attraction. Nea was interested in him, too. Even though she already knew who he was, this was their first in-person conversation. They agreed to have dinner before he drove her home.

It’s 6:00 pm Thursday in Bosnia and Herzegovina; 1:00 am Friday in Asia. Nea and Zeyd dined at a restaurant owned by a friend of Zeyd’s.