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The Billionaire's Sheikh's Mistress
The Billionaire's Sheikh's Mistress
Author: Brigitte Camus

Chapter 1

And so it begins...

The pharmacy lights buzzed overhead, flickering in the quiet, echoing the silent hum of the Mexican village outside. I traced a finger along the glass window, watching the sunset on the worn cobblestone square. The scent of antiseptic and medicinal herbs hung heavy in the air - a constant reminder of where I found myself. 

I closed my eyes, recalling the vivid dreams I used to have back in nursing school. Dreams of bustling hospitals, the sterile scent of an operating room, the exhilarating rush that came with the possibility of saving lives. Yet, the reality was harsher. I was miles away from those dreams, confined to the small town that held me in its tight, familiar grip. 

Kes’s voice, warm and filled with a hint of the Australian homeland she left behind, broke through my thoughts. "Hey, Gabby, don't look so glum." 

Her words jolted me back to the pharmacy, the dusty wooden shelves reflecting our shared predicament. "I just thought...you know," I began, my voice trailing off as the weight of my situation settled in. 

Kes’s eyes met mine, full of empathy. "You thought you'd be somewhere else by now," she finished for me, the understanding in her voice offering a touch of solace. 

Trapped. That's how I felt. Stuck in this relentless cycle of monotony, shouldering the crushing weight of bills, my mother's health, and my little sister, Maria. The future I had once dreamed of seemed too distant, too unreachable. 

"You're not stuck, Gabby," Kes interjected, her voice firm but kind. "You're just...paused. And hey, look at the bright side, at least we’re together in this bloody place." 

A faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Typical Kes, always finding a glimmer of humor even in the gloom. The drugstore, with its familiar smell of antiseptic and old wood, suddenly felt less suffocating. My gaze fell on a photograph pinned on the wall – a memento from our first day at work here, full of shared excitement and hope. 

“We were so happy, so hopeful.” I found myself saying out loud, staring at the grinning figures in the photo. 

“And we still are,” Kes replied, her tone resolute. “Or at least, we’re trying to be.” 

A heavy sigh escaped me. “But nothing is changing, Kes. We’re just stuck in this loop. Every day it’s the same story.” 

“Yeah, but who says we can’t change the story, Gabby?” Kes countered, a spark igniting in her eyes. “After all, we’re the authors, aren’t we?” 

Before I could ponder on her words, the tinkling sound of the doorbell announced the arrival of a customer. In walked Alice, the village's self-appointed news carrier. Her face was always lit with the anticipation of a new tale to spread, her tongue eager to weave intricate webs of hearsay. 

 As the worn door, chimes announced Alice’s entrance, Kes and I exchanged a knowing glance, a smile threatening to pull at the corners of our lips. Our small-town pharmacy was more than just a medicine dispensary - it was a hub of town chatter, an intimate place where the village’s stories unfolded. 

“Ladies,” Alice called out, her cheeks flushed with a juicy piece of gossip she could barely contain. She slid a list of medicines across the counter, her focus less on her order and more on her need to spill the beans. 

“Did you hear about Maggi?” Alice began, her eyes wide with eagerness. "She's expecting, you know! And guess what? The fellow with the fancy sports car has refused to own up to the child!" 

Trying to maintain a straight face, I caught Kes’s eye, and a wave of suppressed giggles washed over us. We knew better than to give Alice a response. A single word would have Maggi pointing fingers at us for spreading rumors the next day. 

However, Alice, forever thirsting for some reaction, mistook our silence as disinterest. A shadow of disappointment crossed her face and she huffed slightly. 

"Well, if you're not interested..." she said, a hint of frustration in her voice. Gathering her bag of medications, she exited the pharmacy, leaving behind an echoing silence punctuated by our stifled laughter. 

As the door closed behind Alice, Kes and I finally burst into laughter. "When will Alice find something more interesting to do than being the town's gossip carrier?" Kes asked, her face reddening from the bout of laughter. 

"I don’t know,” I responded, shaking my head and trying to regain my composure. “Maybe when she finally wins the lottery she always talks about, or perhaps when Don Juan next door finally agrees to date her." 

That sent us into another fit of laughter, our cheerful echoes bouncing off the worn-out walls of the pharmacy. These shared moments of levity, between the stress and monotony of everyday life, kept us grounded. 

A comfortable silence fell between us, broken only by Kes’s sudden teasing. "Speaking of dating, how is that crush of yours doing, Gabby? That handsome guy from the bakery?" 

Feeling a flush creep up my cheeks, I waved her off. "Oh, hush. It's not like you're having any better luck with that stubborn boyfriend of yours. What was his last romantic endeavor? Burning toast for breakfast?" 

We laughed again, the friendly jab only reinforcing the bond we had built over the years. We were not just coworkers, but also best friends, navigating our way through life's ups and downs. 

As our laughter subsided, a notification ping on my phone grabbed my attention. It was an email. From a name, I recognized but hadn't seen in a while. My heart leaped into my throat as I opened the email. 

"Dear Gabriela, are you open to the prospect of joining our team as a Nursing Assistant at our main headquarters situated in Al-Qamar?" The words blurred before my eyes as the reality of it all sank in. It was from the renowned hospital Kes had helped me apply to last year. The dream I thought was long lost suddenly seemed within reach again. 

Kes peered over my shoulder, her eyes going wide as she read the message. Our laughter faded, replaced with an electric excitement that buzzed between us. The small-town pharmacy suddenly seemed less confining, the monotonous future brighter. As Kes squeezed my hand in encouragement, I realized she was right - we were the authors of our own stories. And it looked like my new chapter was just about to begin. 

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