The taller woman beamed, a mischievous look in her eyes. “You can thank me over a nice meal.” Fatma raised an eyebrow. “The two of us? Share a meal?” “And why not?” “You’re an infidel. And maybe a little insane.” Siti grinned, not denying either charge. She reached up with dexterous fingers to adjust the loosed knot on Fatma’s tie. “My family owns a restaurant downtown. You’ve never had better Nubian food. I have an aunt who will make us the best fatta if asked, no matter the time of year. And wait till you taste her mulukhiya.” Finishing the knot, she played with the length of the tie. “Just
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