Page 5 of What Happens in Dubai

‘Right, basically Dubai is where it’s all happening just now. Hundreds of influencers; big party girls – and boys – are flooding the streets of Dubai. The richest, most photogenic city in the world but there’s no fucking decent aesthetics out there. None. The company is expanding their products and have managed to book a luxury penthouse in the Palm for one day only. We need practitioners to go out there to deliver our product and set up the aesthetics correctly for a shoot. That’s it. The models will then take part in some fancy photoshoot and you guys can chill. You’d be on standby in case you need to show them how to hold the needles but basic work. They’ve hired top influencers, and of course you can take behind-the-scene content – fucking fantastic for your social media and followers as well. It’s half a day’s work at the most, and honestly, Raj, the publicity will be unbelievable, mate.’

My mouth dropped open and Ashley began screaming, clapping her hands and stamping her feet. Raj was totally calm.

‘Wait, Ash, shh, calm down,’ Raj said. ‘Do you have dates in mind? I can’t afford to cancel existing clients. I’m trying my hardest to keep them sweet in case they go elsewhere at the minute, Andy.’

‘Well, that’s the only thing: it needs to be next week. Next Friday to Monday, all flights and accommodation paid for. You would arrive on Friday and not need to work till Saturday, another day shopping or whatever you like on Sunday then home the following day.’

I was hanging on every word Andrew said with my herb-stained grin beaming over my face. I looked at Raj hopefully, who was deep in thought, contemplating the idea.

‘God, it’s tempting. It really is. It’s just the clients, Andy.’

‘Well, I thought I’d give you first dibs on it anyway. I know it’s short notice, mate, but if Individualise decline, I need to ask Botox Boxx next. Only because of their recent sale figures, my boss insisted. And see, if I’m being one hundred per cent honest with you, Raj, I know they will snap this shit up.’

‘Raj,’ I interrupted, ‘we don’t have to cancel any clients. We can rearrange appointments and do a couple of late nights this week. I could even come in on my day off. This is a great opportunity.’

I looked at my friend as he bit his lip, wholly lost in thought.

‘You think we could do it, Zara?’

‘Fuck, yes, of course I do,’ I yelled enthusiastically.

Raj didn’t say anything for a few seconds. I could see him working things out in his head, weighing up the pros and cons, of which I could think of exactly zero. The man would be stupid to say no. As his silence stretched on, I could feel my heartbeat racing and Ashley, standing like a ball of tension beside me, ready to burst.

Finally, Raj looked round at us and then turned to Andrew.

‘Looks like we’re going to Dubai, mate!’ he blurted.

‘YESSS!!’ Ashley stood up and began screaming. ‘Oh my god! I can’t wait till you guys see this place. It’s insane. I’m ready to cry. I’m so excited. Oh. My. God. I can hardly breathe.’ She was flapping her huge nails in front of her face enthusiastically.

‘Wait, Ash. Sorry, hen. There’re only two tickets,’ Andrew said. ‘You cannae go.’

Ashley’s face fell and her energy suddenly popped like a balloon. The room fell awkwardly silent.

‘Aww what! I cannae keep that going. I’m only pulling your leg. I told my boss better make it for three. There’s no show without Punch.’ Andrew burst into hysterical laughter. Raj and I followed, Ashley ever so slightly smiling as she took in his cruel joke.

‘Right, so, you’re all up for this? I’ll take a few details and finalise everything.’

I nodded my head frantically, still trying to take in the prospect, while Ashley stood clasping her hands tightly with excitement.

Raj smiled at us and shook his head. ‘Individualise is taking over Dubai!’

Chapter Two

That evening as I scurried around my flat hiding the accumulation of dirty clothes anywhere that would fit, there was an excitable bubble in my chest that I hadn’t felt for a long time. I was going on holiday next week! The cold, frosty Glasgow air would soon be traded for a rich, warm, sun-kissed breeze and it couldn’t come quick enough. Tonight, however, I had my date with a mature older man, and I couldn’t wait for a civilised meal, preferably three courses, with lots of boasting about my upcoming holiday.

I was meeting my date outside The Ivy, a popular high-end restaurant in the city, at 7 p.m., and it had passed six before I even contemplated beginning my date-night preparation. I was finding that the more dates I went on, the less I could give a fuck about the getting ready part. Dating, which was once a novelty, had become a far too familiar process for me, and the excitement of preparation and willingness to look my best had vanished.

I eventually swaggered into my bedroom after watching one too many episodes ofThe Vampire Diariesand started spraying my long black hair with a generous amount of dry shampoo. Earlier I’d had ambitious plans of washing it before the date, but unfortunately the original family of vampires had taken up permanent residence in Mystic Falls and my plans to conceal a week’s worth of grease, long work hours and the likely remnants of other men’s bodily fluids had become second choice. After swooshing my hair with a generous amount of product, I realised quickly it was a bad idea as my hair was sticking up like Jedward’s. I attempted to pat it down, with no luck. Somehow, I managed to manoeuvre it into a beehive.Great, no one’s wore this style since the seventies. Still, this cunt will remember that decade well,I thought. I proceeded to smear a mound of foundation across my face before finishing the look off with some black mascara and shiny lip gloss.This will have to do.

I headed to my bathroom and squeezed out a last-minute pee before having a little council wash in the sink. I ran the water for a few seconds, allowing it to warm up, then shunted my tights and underwear to my knees, splashing my vagina at the sink. I lathered up some Radox and began shaving my bristly bush, wincing at each thick, stubborn pube that didn’t want to budge. By the time I was finished, my fanny appeared to have been sheared by Sweeney Todd. I gasped at how raw and severely wounded it looked, but at least it felt smooth. I wasn’t planning on sleeping with William, but with the way my dating life was going, I wasn’t ruling it out either. I hoped to make the decision quickly after meeting him as, with my hair growth, I had roughly three hours tops before the cactus returned.

William and I met on Tinder. He had Super Liked me, and I suppose,as always, I enjoyed the attention. We’d only been chatting for two or three days before he asked to meet up and when he suggested The Ivy, I had to oblige. He seemed really articulate, smart and occasionally cheeky in his text messages, and although he was older, he looked remarkably fit with an impressive set of broad shoulders that immediately caught my eye from his profile pictures. He ran a boxing class for kids, and after a decent amount of Facebook stalking, I found his club and watched sexy videos of him pounding the punch bag. I got turned on scrolling through to 2017 as he embarked on the ‘push-up challenge’, hoping one day I’d be lying under his sweaty pits getting pumped! If his profile didn’t declare his age, I would never have guessed he was anywhere near his fifties. He did, however, have a few grey streaks glistening through his dark hair at the sides, which hinted at his years but in my opinion made him appear even more sophisticated and utterly fuckable in his photographs. Tonight was sure to be an interesting one.

I walked back to my bedroom and flicked through my wardrobe, conscious I only had fifteen minutes before I was supposed to be meeting him. In a rush, I pulled a black oversized woollen dress on, yanking it at the shoulders to attempt to make it more fashionable. My tights were still on from earlier and, unfussed about changing them, I bent over to give my feet a little sniff and shrugged.Not absolutely awful but not the pleasantest either. I took some deodorant and sprayed them, hoping I could mask the stench for a few more hours at least.Let’s hope he’s not got a foot fetish, Zara. In a rush to leave, I had one last look in the mirror, feeling unimpressed. I grabbed my phone and forced my feet into a pair of Doc Martens before heading for the door.

Outside, the wind was bitterly cold, and I felt glad I had opted for such a sensible outfit. I wondered what William would be like. I hadn’t been nervous about seeing him the entire day and had only responded to a few of his messages, but walking down the street to meet him, I suddenly felt anxious.What the fuck am I doing? He’s old enough to be your dad, Zara!I suddenly had an overwhelming fear, but I was committed and would never let someone down last minute. I was approaching Royal Exchange Square and the restaurant was only a few steps away. I could feel my heart pounding with nerves. I brought out my phone to text Ashley when a message from William popped up.

I’m here x

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