Ever since Rana Zeid moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, in 2008, from her hometown of Batroun, Northern Lebanon, life had been nothing but a roller coaster. First of all, her husband of fifteen years, Anwar Zeid, died a couple of years after the big move due to heart failure. The couple had no offspring, but Rana was left with a mountain of debt. In the decade that followed, Rana was forced to sell their nice townhouse in the suburb of Orleans, Ontario, and move to an apartment in Vanier.
Next to Rana's new apartment building was an old-fashioned pizzeria which had been abandoned after its owner, a nice old Italian gentleman, died under mysterious circumstances. Rana, a shrewd businesswoman who knew a great opportunity when she saw it, had major plans for the abandoned pizzeria. The way Rana saw it, it was a stroke of luck that she moved to an apartment next to the shoddy little pizzeria on Donald Street. That's when everything started to get really interesting...
In order to make ends meet, Rana Zeid had to pull herself by her bootstraps, for lack of a better term. She got a bank loan and started Rana's Bakery, a shop specializing in bread making, selling cakes, and traditional Lebanese dishes. To help her, Rana hired a couple of young Arab men, one of whom, Fahd, had a Somali buddy named Yassin who could come by the shop under the pretext of visiting him. It didn't take Rana long to figure out that Yassin was coming by the shop to flirt with her, rather than his frequently absentee buddy Fahd...
"Yassin, we've been over this, we can't be together, you should be with a young woman your own age, not an old woman like me," Rana Zeid said earnestly, fixing her wuthering gaze on the tall, handsome young Somali Muslim man standing before her. He'd come to the shop right before closing time, like the truly bothersome lout that he could be. The brother is handsome and smart but can't be made to listen to reason, Rana thought with a sigh.
"Rana, I told you before, the girls at my school, Carleton University, don't do anything for me, I brought you these flowers, may I come in?" Yassin Ali asked, protesting in the most charming manner ever. Rana shook her head, and he flashed her his most fearless smile while brandishing the roses he'd picked up at Scentimental Flowers on McArthur Avenue, on his way to her place. Rana considered the roses, and a faint smile crept into her face. After a brief hesitation, she took them.
"Alright, Yassin, you can come in for tea, but that's it," Rana said, and Yassin kept his face carefully neutral as he watched her close the bakery. Minutes later they went over to her place, and he followed her inside. Yassin was all smiles as he went into her place, and with good reason. Getting in is half the battle, Yassin thought with a lustful smirk.
