Part 1

-1-

Rafee Ahmed was overwhelmed as he met all the new people at his new job. His boss, Stan Kowalski was dragging him from cubicle to cubicle, introducing him to each member of the Product Development team and telling him how he would be interacting with that person. There were so many new names and new faces that it was difficult to keep track of who was who. The fact that Rafee had been back in Pakistan for the past year and gotten used to Urdu again didn't make matters any easier.

"And this is Morgan Peters," said Stan. When Morgan turned around, Rafee's breath caught in his throat. Rafee had always admired American women, but always from afar. Morgan was definitely a jewel that he would enjoy appraising on a daily basis. Morgan was very small, something Rafee loved in women. She was sitting down so it was difficult to tell exactly how tall she was, but Rafee guessed that she couldn't have been more than five feet tall. She was a waif except in the chest where she sported two orange-sized breasts that stretched the tight, blue blouse that she was wearing to its very limits. She had blonde hair that was thrown up in a conservative bun. This only made her sexier as it showed off her long graceful neck and the tops of her smooth shoulders.

"Morgan, this is Rafee Ahmed," said Stan. "He will be doing a lot of the technical specs on the tax modules you are working on."

Morgan smiled warmly at Rafee and he nearly melted. Her face had a certain air of innocence to it. He thought maybe it was the conservative blonde hair or the thin-framed reading glasses she wore.

"It's nice to meet you, Rafee," said Morgan, totally butchering his name.

"Call me Ralph," said Rafee, not wanting to correct this gorgeous woman. Ralph was a name that he earned from his college roommates and it stuck when he was around English-speaking people. "It is the name I used while I was in college."

"Did you study here in the U.S.?" asked Morgan.

"University of Wisconsin," said Rafee proudly.

"Really? I grew up in Wisconsin," said Morgan with a bit of a squeal. "I lived in the Milwaukee area. Got sick of the winters though, so that's why I moved here."

"Try living in Canada," said Rafee with a smile. "Wisconsin winters are nothing compared to Calgary."

"You lived in Calgary?"

Rafee nodded. "I could not get a U.S. Visa at the time and I did not want to go back home."

"Where's home?" asked Morgan. Then she added, "It's okay to ask, right?"

"Of course it is," said Rafee with a chuckle. "I am from Pakistan, and no, I am not a terrorist."

Morgan's face blanched at Rafee's remark.

"It is okay," said Rafee. "You can laugh. It was a joke."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"Really, it is fine," said Rafee. "I know most people like me tend not to have a sense of humor."

"I'm gonna leave you two to get acquainted," said Stan. "You two will be working together quite a bit over the next month or two. I need to get the next build started."

"Thank you for showing me around, Stan," said Rafee, offering his hand. Stan shook it and smiled and then left the two employees alone.

"Have a seat," said Morgan gesturing to a small plastic chair that was pushed up against the side of her spacious cubical. For the next hour and a half, Morgan got Rafee up to speed with parts of the tax module that she was working on. The entire time, Rafee found himself intoxicated by her floral smell, her demure look, and her charming, if not a little patronizing, personality.

"Would you like to do lunch?" asked Morgan when they got to a convenient breaking point.

"Will people talk?" asked Rafee with a mock expression of shock.

Morgan giggled, again, a schoolgirl-like giggle that touched Rafee. "It's okay. Everyone knows I have a boyfriend. Well... fiancé technically."

Rafee's heart fell when he heard the dreaded B-word. Boyfriend. Then again, who was he kidding? He knew that things would never be possible with her. He knew it was better this way.

"I would be glad to go to lunch with you then," said Rafee with a forced smile.

"Great! You like Spanish food?" asked Morgan.

"You mean like Tacos and Burritos and things like that?"

Morgan giggled like a schoolgirl again. "No, silly. That's Mexican. I said Spanish food."

"Oh, I did not know there was a difference."

"You really are new to Florida, then," said Morgan. "I think you'll like it. It's not really all that spicy like Mexican is."

"That is too bad," said Rafee, smiling naturally again. "I happen to like spicy food. Almost all food in Pakistan has some amount of spice to it."

"Well, some Spanish food is spicy. You really have to try a Cuban sandwich, though. They are really good."

Morgan drove Rafee to a small, mom and pop restaurant just north of the airport. Even with the terrible driving that was common in his home country, Morgan still managed to make him thankful that he was still alive when they got to the restaurant.

Morgan nodded to the owner as she came in and then led Rafee to a small booth where the two co-workers sat down. Rafee grabbed a menu but Morgan snatched it out of his hand.

"I'll order for you this time," said Morgan. "So, tell me more about where you're from."

"You mean, Pakistan?"

"No, Russia," quipped Morgan. "Of course, Pakistan."

"Not much to tell you," said Rafee. "I hate it there and that is why I came here to work and live."

"Where are you from in Pakistan?"

"Karachi," said Rafee. Then, sensing that Morgan didn't know where Karachi was, he added, "It is the largest city in Pakistan. It is bigger than New York in population, although everyone is packed together tighter. It is located right on the southern coast of Pakistan."

"You joked earlier that you aren't a terrorist. Do a lot of people accuse you of that?"

Rafee nodded. "9-11 is the reason it took as long as it did for me to get a work visa in this country. I think the people that ran those planes into the World Trade Center shamed Allah. It has made a bad name for all Muslims."

"It's gotta be tough being an Arab during these times," said Morgan.

"I am not an Arab," said Rafee. "There is a huge difference. I am more like an Indian."

"I can see that resemblance," said Morgan. "But you are still a Muslim, right?"

"Well... yes... as much as many Americans are Christians," said Rafee. "I rarely go to temple and most of the time I do not even participate in fasting during Ramadan. It is like Christians here that go to church on Christmas and Easter."

"I always thought that Muslims were very religious," Morgan said.

"That is what the television shows you," said Rafee. "The reality is that most Muslims are not any different than any Christian. The only Muslims you see on television are usually extremists not unlike some of the extremist Christians in this very country. Remember Waco?"

"Wow, I never knew," said Morgan.

"Most Americans do not know," said Rafee.

"You're so cool," gushed Morgan. "We had a consultant from India once and he wouldn't talk to anyone."

"Can I take your order?" asked a waitress that just arrived. She spoke in a heavy Hispanic accent.

Morgan ordered for the both of them and then the waitress looked at Rafee after she was done talking.

"You sure you're okay with the young lady ordered?" asked the waitress.

"I guess so," said Rafee. "I really do not know what any of it is, to tell you the truth."

"Can you eat pork?" asked the woman.

Rafee shook his head.

"Take a look at the menu and I will come back in a couple of minutes," said the waitress with a smile.

"You can't eat pork?" asked Morgan.

"It is a religious thing," said Rafee.

"I'm so sorry," Morgan gushed.

She put her hand on Rafee's. Rafee's manhood stiffened from her warm, inviting touch.

"It is okay," said Rafee. "I will just find something else to eat. Do not worry."

Rafee quickly picked something else out and then put in his order. Morgan kept apologizing the entire time.

"So, Ralph," said Morgan, breaking a temporary lull in the conversation. "You married? Seeing anyone?"

"No," said Rafee, shaking his head. "I am not married or seeing anyone."

"I'm surprised," said Morgan with a tiny hint of a blush. "You are so handsome and fun to be with."

"You are just saying that because I am different," said Rafee with a chuckle.

"No, seriously. I know a lot of girls at work that would probably fall over themselves trying to date you."

"I seriously doubt that," said Rafee. "Besides, I am not far along enough in my career yet to worry about dating."

"What's the harm in a little casual dating?" asked Morgan. "You don't have to marry any of these girls. Just have a little fun."