Love in the air

By Fayza Hassan
Young men who get the chance to rise through the ranks of large corporations are often in a great hurry to do so. In Egypt, much depends on one's relations in high places; once established, these must be carefully cultivated. Professional success can present unexpected pitfalls, however, as I discovered a few weeks ago, when I met a greatly distressed young man who was still smarting from the unpardonable faux pas he had committed on the occasion of Valentine's Day.
This very Western celebration of love, ignored until quite recently by the Egyptian public, strangely enough acquired the proportions of a major event this year. The enthusiasm deployed in honouring the patron of love must have left those who neither offered a symbolic gift nor received one in his name feeling extremely socially challenged. In general, however, jewellers, florists and confectioneries had a most profitable time catering to all the orders generated by this unusual overflow of tender sentiments.
Selim, the charming young executive of my acquaintance, was ready to use the day to his greatest advantage: for some time, he had been waiting for a propitious occasion to express his deep admiration for Maha, a new senior employee in the PR department of the firm. Well-groomed Maha was poised and aloof, and had not seemed particularly aware of his existence so far. In fact, she appeared uninterested in inter-office romance, concentrating rather on launching herself on a rapid upward course. Still, Selim had just been promoted and he believed that he had all the qualities required to impress such a cool young woman, if only she cared to notice him. Sending her flowers on Valentine's Day would do the trick, he thought. She would know that he was a man of the world, well versed in the art of treating his favourite lady lavishly.
Selim pretended to check something in the cabinet where the personnel files were kept and, having noted Maha's home address, he called his mother for the telephone number of the family's florist. He remembered that he had heard someone say that it was not chic to send flowers by the dozen, so he ordered eleven bunches of eleven red roses each, and painstakingly dictated over the phone the message on the card: "Will you be my Valentine?" Unsure that Maha would know who he was, he instructed the florist to include his full name.
Suddenly he remembered his recent promotion, which immediately brought to mind the sad fact that his boss was absent, because there had been a death in his family. Selim dialed the florist's number again and ordered a wreath (something important, he specified) to be delivered to the man's house. He knew that such a delicate attention would not be lost on his superior. Satisfied with his endeavours, he then settled down to the rest of the day's more tedious work.
The following day, Selim was quite nervous driving to work. The previous evening he had waited in vain for a telephone call from the recipients of his largesse. Could the florist have failed to deliver? He checked with them first thing, before even bothering to take a sip of the coffee the office attendant had placed on his desk as soon as he had seen him walking out of the elevator, a custom Selim had yearned for before his promotion because it was strictly reserved to the top employees of the company.
The florist assured him that his orders had been duly dispatched. Finally he could stand it no longer. He went out of his office, hoping to meet Maha. She soon appeared, carrying a load of files. "Let me help you," he said gallantly and then in a whisper "did you receive the flowers?" Surrendering her burden, the young woman looked at him strangely. "I did," she said, "but why such an ugly contraption? and what loss were you referring to, who is the 'dear departed'?"
Selim's heart sank. Shoving the files back into her arms, he retreated to his office. His love was lost, he groaned to himself; but then a thought struck him like a punch in the stomach. If Maha had received the wreath, who had been the beneficiary of the eleven bunches of roses accompanied by their hopeful little question?
Selim will never know for sure, but since his boss returned, he has had the distinct feeling that the man is avoiding him. Whenever they meet by chance in the corridors, he casts Selim a peculiar glance before hurrying on his way.
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