DUBAI—“Do you guys want to get a coffee here at Starbucks?” Barbara asked.

We had just finished some grocery shopping at Spinny’s, a supermarket here in Dubai Marina.

“Sure, sounds good,” we agreed.

Ihab generously offered to buy us lattés and we sat outside in partial shade. Actually, not too bad heat-wise: The recent sandstorm had softened the direct rays of the sun; it was almost like the cloud cover back home in Canada.

Some small talk and then, unexpectedly, Ihab gets serious.

“You know, Barbara, you have to provide some proof to me that your client can actually deliver.”

I was surprised. Up until now, I had just thought of Barbara and Ihab as roommates who seemed to be good friends, but I quickly surmised this to be part of a long-running business dialogue. As a professional musician and a victim of way too many dubious gigs on the Toronto circuit, I knew any input from me concerning money would be non-profitable. Silence was a good option.

Barbara shot back, “My client does not need to prove anything. He would take this as an insult. Please stop this.”

“Well then, what is he looking for? What does he want?”

“Well. I shouldn’t really get into this too much but I can tell you this: He is thinking of opening a chain of small hotels, maybe ten, in the areas of Abu Dhabi and Ajman, four-star, perhaps one five-star. But rather than you asking me if my client can deliver, I should be asking you: What confidence do I have that you and your group can provide an attractive and legitimate proposal?”

“Barbara, I am not liking this at all. You know very well my background in Lebanon and here, and my contacts. You know that I can provide any plots he desires from four million dirham to a hundred million. It all depends on his concept and his budget. Really, what are we talking to each other for if we don’t trust each other?”

Silence.

They both look at me, trying to delay things a little, stalling to get over the awkwardness.

Lamely, without thinking, I blurt out, “Well, I can play ‘Mustang Sally’.”