A Contract Called Love

Mr. Raymond paced back and forth in the middle of his luxurious living room, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

One look at him, and you'd know something was terribly wrong. He looked restless, anxious - desperate to find a way out.

He let out a frustrated sigh - not the first of the day.

"This is impossible, I swear!" he snapped aloud.

"No way it's happening... Bankrupt? Me? Me?! The great Mr. Raymond, threatened with bankruptcy? Never. It's not happening. I must find a solution - I have to!"

His voice shook with fury as he pounded the wall with his fist.

He glanced at the clock: 5:55 p.m.

Another sigh, then more pacing - his feet shuffling urgently on the tiled floor. He didn't stop until the clock struck six.

With trembling hands, he snatched his phone from the center table and quickly dialed a number. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

It rang almost to the point of disconnection before someone finally picked up.

"Hello, sir?" a woman's voice answered.

"Hi, Helen. So, what's the update? Did everything go through?" he asked, eyes wide and tone shaky, like a man clutching at hope.

"Yes, sir. He finally gave you the appointment..."

"Really? Oh, thank God! Thank you - thank you so much, Helen," he said, cutting her off in relief.

"It's okay, sir. But just so you know, it's for Monday at exactly 8 a.m., and you know he doesn't like lateness..."

"Oh, don't worry. I'll be there by seven! Thank you again - I'll reward you if this goes well," he interrupted again, his voice buzzing with gratitude.

"Alright, sir. Bye - and thank you."

"No, I should be the one thanking you," he said, ending the call with a sigh of deep relief.

He collapsed onto the cushion behind him, breathing heavily.

"Whew... God, thank You. At least I can finally smell a little bit of success," he murmured.

"Monday... today's Friday. Even if he said next week, I would wait - as long as there's a chance for success. God, please help me. Let me fix this. I need this win. I should go and pray. I've missed a few salah already. This tension is too much."

Still mumbling to himself, he stood and left the room - finally calm enough to perform his missed prayers: Dhuhr and Asr.

⸻

Meanwhile...

"Okay, By the will of God... No, you don't have to worry. We always keep our promises, and I assure you, you'll love working with us. Hahaha, no - we're the ones who should be grateful. Alright, bye, and thank you for your patronage."

She ended the call with a deep breath.

"Looks like we're heading into a wild week," she muttered, glancing at the young woman seated across from her - a notebook and pen in hand.

The young woman smiled. "Honestly, ma'am... I can feel it too."

"Hmm. I just spoke with Lila's family. They need snacks for their youngest daughter's birthday - this coming Friday. That's one week from now. And we haven't even started preparing the order for Mr. Wilson's wedding yet."

"And we haven't finished the Savannah Hotel order either," the assistant replied with a worried shake of her head.

"Ugh. It's okay. You see, Chloe, all we need is more hands. That way everything can go smoothly and fast. You know we're known for keeping our word - I don't want to ruin our reputation."

"You're right, ma'am. That's exactly how it should be," Chloe replied with a nod.

"Good. So, go ahead and make all necessary arrangements. I'll prepare the list and email it to you shortly-"

Her phone suddenly rang, cutting her off.

She glanced at the caller ID.

With a wave of her hand, she gestured for Chloe to leave. The assistant bowed slightly and stepped out, gently closing the door behind her.

With a bright smile, she picked up the phone.

"Assalamu Alaikum," she greeted cheerfully.

"Wa Alaiki Salam, Jewel," a warm voice responded on the other end.

Hearing his voice made her light up. "Yes, sweet daddy! How are you?"

"I'm fine, Jewel. And you? How's work?"

She pouted slightly, jokingly. "Same old, Dad. Honestly, I feel like passing out from exhaustion."

He laughed. "See now? Didn't I tell you to go for a white-collar job where you'd be sitting in an air-conditioned office, stress-free, with a fat paycheck every month? But no - you insisted on running a business!"

She giggled, twirling lazily on her chair. She'd gotten used to his constant teasing about her choice of career.

"Anyway, Dad, any news?" she asked, trying to steer the conversation away.

"Oh, there's news, alright - and it's good news," he replied, voice full of excitement.

"Really?!" Her voice perked up.

"Yes! But you'll have to come over to hear it in person," he said, laughing.

"Ahh, I'm already on my way - I just closed for the day!"

"Then I'll be waiting, Jewel."

She hung up, still smiling.

Springing to her feet, she gathered her things quickly. She couldn't wait to find out what had changed her father's mood so dramatically. That morning, he hadn't even wanted to speak because of the stress he was under. It had taken her soft words and persistence to get him to open up - and even then, he was barely holding it together.

But now, he was laughing on the phone.

Her prayers had been answered.

She slung her handbag over her shoulder, adjusted her headscarf, sprayed her signature scent, and headed out.

She waved goodbye to her staff - humble as ever, even though she was their boss - and slipped into her car, setting off for home.

She slung her handbag over her shoulder, adjusted the roll of her scarf, and sprayed her favorite perfume - a cool, calming scent that matched her mood.

With a quick wave to her staff - ever warm and modest despite being their boss - she stepped into her car and began the short drive home.

But even as she drove, her mind kept circling back to her father's sudden change in mood. That morning, he could barely speak from stress. Now, just hours later, he was laughing like a man who'd been handed a miracle.

What had happened?

What news was so good that it could lift that heavy cloud off his shoulders?

She pressed her foot slightly harder on the accelerator.

Whatever it was, she needed to know - and she needed to know now.