On the Line (Special Ops) Read Online Free PDF Page B

salaama!”
     
    “ Shukrn. You speak Egyptian Arabic,” he smiled like the Cheshire cat.
     
    “I speak Moroccan Arabic and Modern Standard Arabic as well, but since you said you were from Egypt I assumed you preferred the Egyptian.” She hoped she hadn’t assumed wrong. She tried to use the correct Arabic for the region, but she was much more familiar with the Arabic spoken in Morocco since she spent the most time in that country during her travels.
     
    “I speak the Moroccan as well,” he smiled. “You are very smart. You shall please,” he said. She looked at him trying to decipher what he meant. His English had been very good, but maybe not perfect. “ T m req ssalama, Ceridwen.”
     
    “I’m not going anywhere,” she let out a slight nervous laugh. Why was he wishing her a peaceful trip? He did nothing more than smile at her before walking away. She watched him for a little while before shaking her head and going back to her work. She had two days left to revisit all the small details because Friday would be too crazy busy to have to worry about if she forgot something or not. She would have to get the room setup. She would have to make sure the sound system was ready. She would have to make sure the makeshift dressing rooms were stocked with whatever the ladies might need, yet have forgotten to bring with them. Usually somebody had extras of something and they could share, but Ariana still liked to be prepared for the just in case. Years of being back in those dressing rooms changing and prepping had taught her that even the most prepared person could forget something, or have something break and the backup break too. Dancers were usually helpful to each other. She had thought it wouldn’t be the case because competition could be fierce; dancers typically wanted to win, to have their dancing recognized for the greatness of it, so it would make sense if they were less likely to help the completion. That wasn’t the case at all. Even with her first international competition, where she was already well prepared, one of the older women back stage had taken the time to help her get her wardrobe situated in a way that would not cause her embarrassment later. She knew how to dress herself, but the costume was different, she would say, than what she was used to and there were some issues with the hook and eye feature of the top rather than the buttons she preferred. Thanks to the ladies she had enough pins placed in spots that would assure those slipping hooks and eyes would not cause her top to fall off during her routine.
     
    “What makes you different?” Suspira had asked her once. Ariana didn’t understand the question so Suspira asked her again, this time she stipulated that she wanted to know what made her dancing different. Ariana smiled brightly and said, “because I don’t want to win.” Suspira had gasped, as if that was the wrong answer, but it was truth. She just loved to dance. She didn’t want to get out there and dance with winning as her goal. She wanted to go out there, feel the music and let her body interpret the poetic beauty of it, putting the musical heaven into a visual display that was beautiful and heartfelt. Ariana saw the same qualities in Zahara. If Zahara had started dancing when she was five Ariana would bet she would have been the next six time American champion for the Belly Dance Universe competitions.
     
    “Hey, I am here to help.” Zahara nearly skipped into the room.
     
    “I was just thinking about you,” Ariana smiled. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work today.”
     
    “I went; I worked; I finished early. Now I am here to help. Put me to work belly dance goddess,” she bowed her head in respect and Ariana laughed hard.
     
    “Well I could use a little help keeping my sanity,” she admitted. “I want to make sure this is as perfect as it can be.”
     
    “It will be.” She patted her shoulder. “Let’s talk constellational