by Love Belvin
There was a knock at my now ajar door. It was Sharon.
“Ms. Brimm, Stan from the rec said he was sent over by Mr. Jacobs to take a look at our pools.”
My mouth fell open and I looked for the time on my watch. I hadn’t been off the phone with Azmir ten minutes and already his maintenance guy was here to see if he could fix our pools.
“Oh, wow! I didn’t expect him over this early,” I said pleasantly surprised by Azmir’s presence—in his absence. And so apt considering Thompson was there.
“Mr. Jacobs said you guys would need it for business today and asked that I come right away. It’s really no problem at all. I work on pools part time,” Stan said after peeking his head in the door behind Sharon.
“Okay. Sharon can show you to them.” I felt the first cinch of hope I’d had in days.
They left Thompson and me alone again.
A grin flashed upon his face when he asked, “Can I be forward?”
Feeling far more relaxed thanks to Azmir’s gesture of kindness, I consented. “By all means.”
“Either you find me that appalling or you prefer those of the feminine persuasion because I have been working for that broad smile you just let up off a few seconds ago since I’ve knocked on your door.”
Jeesh! I was not expecting that. My now elated state would not be outdone. I gave a muffled, but obvious, laugh and calmly said, “No, Mr. Thompson, women do nothing for me.”
“Uhn-huhn. So it’s me.” He was affronted with raised eyebrows.
“Mr. Thompson, we’re colleagues—”
“…consenting colleagues. At least I am,” he said cutting me off.
“Conflict. Of. Interest.” I attempted to ward him off.
“You just said you weren’t gay.”
Ha! “You’re witty. I’m impressed.”
“Shit. I was just thinking I had no chances.”
“Mr. Thompson, while I appreciate the effort, I’m not interested in dating. Right now is not…possible.” I tried being as polite as possible.
There was another knock at the door.
“It’s open,” I sang somewhat sarcastically.
“Ms. Brimm. I took a look at the pools. I had a hunch so I went straight to the filter and they were installed wrong. I left notes for the repair guy. Whoever installed them was in a rush because they made a few careless mistakes.”
“Really?” Professional incompetence pissed me off!
“Yeah. Those pools are the newest in the game. It can be complicated if you’re not properly trained or at least know what you’re doing.”
“Stan, let me offer you something for your time…” I jumped up to grab my purse.
“Oh, no, Ms. Brimm. Mr. Jacobs has it taken care of. If you need me to shoot over when they come tomorrow just give me a call. I finagled the vent to function temporarily. You should be covered.”
I gave a deep exhale. “Thanks, Stan. I really appreciate your time.”
“No problem. Have a good one,” Stan bode before leaving my office.
Azmir’s arms stretched so far and wide. I didn’t know if I should be elated or have my blues confirmed.
That man!
“Oh. So I have competition!” Thompson’s revelation snapped me out of my trance as he his speculative gaze roved over me.
I couldn’t help but blush. “Conflict of interest, Mr. Thompson.”
“We’ll see about that. We. Shall. See,” Thompson emphasized his last words before leaving out.
Once he was gone, I took a gulp of my morning java that was now above room temperature then reached for my phone, smiled and took a picture of myself. I sent it to “A.D.” (as he was listed in my contacts) with the following caption:
My vastly improved mood courtesy of A.D. Jacobs.
Moments later, I heard a ping. It was Azmir, of course, It’s my job. Get used to it.
I textedback,***conspiring naughty ways to repay the favor***
Ha! Indeed.
The day sped up and when lunch rolled around I’d gotten another surprise by one Azmir Jacobs. He had DiFillippo’s send over an order of crème brûlée. He knew just what to do. But his generous and thoughtful acts once again reminded me that I had to wait yet another day to see him. It pulled at my heart.
That evening I’d stopped by the boutique to pick up the gown that Azmir had selected for me. I was trying something new—letting Azmir dress me. I had to admit his selections always impressed me and agreed with my frame. The seamstress urged me to do a final fitting when I told her she could bag it for me to leave. If Azmir wouldn’t be there—there was no need to go the extra mile. She fought me on the issue and after reluctantly trying it on, I went straight to dance class and practiced my Tamia routine.
~~~~~~~~~~
The night of the ball had arrived. My mood was sluggish, but mother nature had nothing to do with it, she had retreated. I was really in need of Azmir’s company. As soon as we get together he gets busy. My thoughts were grim and blue on the whole ride over there.
As I sulked inside Azmir’s spacious and luxurious limo, I wondered why he had a limo and how often he used it. I was surprised when I walked out of the lobby and saw Ray waiting with the door opened. The lighting inside was mild and the music pouring from the speakers was soothing…smooth, like Mr. Jacobs himself. The XM radio panel caught my attention. The station streamed smooth R&B classics—the likes of Blackstreet, Silk, Guy, Jodeci and countless others. It smelled of new car and the ambiance was mellow and relaxing. So this is another one of your toys, huhn? I felt like a kept woman, like I had belonged to Azmir Jacobs.
I eventually allowed my mind to wander to thoughts of what if he were here? Would we make it to the ball? I think I could slay him right here in his ride. Hmmmmm…would he be too tall? Would he let me? Could I muster my inner-exhibitionism to do it?
We pulled up to the venue. I saw folks scurrying inside. I checked the time and discovered I was twenty minutes past the start of the event. Perfect. Let’s get this stodgy experience over with. Ray opened my door and I gracefully glided out, being sure not to give him an indecent show.
“Okay, Ray, how does this work?”
With a strong chortle, reminding me of that of old Saint Nick’s, he said, “Well, Ms. Brimm, here’s my number.” He handed me his business card. “Call or shoot me a text and I’ll be here in less than five minutes. How long do you think you’ll be?”
I sighed, feeling annoyed at the night’s events, “Two hours, tops.”
“Why the long face on such a beautiful girl?” Ray’s compliments comforted like a dad’s to his baby girl. It was nice.
“I’m missing him badly, Ray. And he was supposed to be here with me to help circuit the mundane.” I felt a knot build in my throat. I didn’t recognize the emotion. Am I about to cry?
“Young lady, I’m sure wherever Divine is, he’s making his way back home to you. I’ve never seen him so smitten.” He gave the belly shaking laugh again.
“That makes two of us, Ray,” I muttered sullenly while I walked toward the steps that led to the entrance of the building.
“See you soon.”
I gave myself a pep talk all the way to the ballroom where I saw stiffs loosened up on the dance floor. That was actually something I’d been looking forward to. My thoughts shifted to Michelle and how she would have had me bellowing in laughter at the sight of her uncle and his colleagues dropping it like it’s hot on the dance floor.
I didn’t know who I’d be seated next to or be forced to chat with. I had no desire to do the disingenuous banter about things that we could chat about during office hours thing. I had wished Sharon or the other girls from the practice were there to talk to, but they weren’t invited. This was a fundraising event and they didn’t fill the tax-bracket requirement. Heck—neither did I, but I was there to boast of our exemplary services and how they benefited poor children. Blah!
I was stopped by a couple of familiar faces before finding the bar. While wait
ing on my drink I took notice of the grand ballroom. It held culture and grace with its oval shaped ceilings in gold trimmings. The live band sealed the deal bringing you the 60s feel. The bartender handed me my drink and I immediately see Mr. Adams, one third of Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine, waving his arm gesturing for me to come over to him. I took a sip of my martini and sauntered over to him near the dance floor. I hadn’t worked much with Mr. Adams but what little interfacing we did he had always been pleasant, unlike his god-awful son.
“Rayna! You look quite elegant.” He smiled broadly. His wife stood beside him politely nodding in agreement.
“Mr. and Mrs. Adams, always a joy to see you two. I trust all is well.”
“They most certainly are. Our Lisa is expecting our first grandchild any day now.” Mr. Adams’ eyes danced with pride.
“Wow! Such an exciting time for you two. Congratulations! I’m sure you two will be the best grandparents.”
“Yes! And we’re hoping for more in the not so distant future,” Mrs. Adams crowed when her eyes excitedly hiked to a young woman standing in the cypher. The woman was plump with a long silk taupe gown that hugged her voluptuous figure and complimented her pale skin. Her cinnamon hair was fixed in long Shirley temple curls that draped across her shoulders. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous by any means, but still wasn’t the worst on the eyes. Overall, she looked very much un-alluring with her large round and droopy eyes.
“Oh?” was all I could let escape.
“This is Alexandria Wilkerson. She has just agreed to Sebastian’s hand in marriage after dating for nearly two years.”
I had to have blinked my eyes twice, unable to veil my surprise. Sebastian had been with someone for two years while scratching my back for dates…and his money? I caught Mr. Adams’ eyes imploring me to greet his soon to be daughter-in-law.
Oh! My manners.
“Congratulations, Alexandria!” There. That wasn’t too contrived. “You’re marrying into a wonderfully supportive family.” That was more sincere. The Adams’ were good people.
Alexandria didn’t speak much. She was all nods and goofy smiles. What the? What tickled me was Mrs. Adams’ need to mention the engagement. She knew Sebastian and I had gone out on a couple of dates and dropped not so subtle hints that she wanted her son married right away. Little did she know he was the asshole of the century. Thinking about the possibility of marrying him brought the bile from my belly to my throat. I grabbed my chest trying to calm myself when I felt a gentle, yet unfamiliar touch on my elbow.
“Are you okay, Rayna?” I turned to find Brian Thompson. He looked distinguished in his black tux and bow tie. His eyes were squinted with concern.
“Yes. I guess the drink doesn’t agree with me,” I offered up feeling like it made sense after it left my lips.
“Oh, here’s our Sebastian here!” Mrs. Adams cried.
Sebastian approached us with his usual wobbly stalk. It was such a turn off. He pushed his glasses up as he did every six and a half seconds. I was still holding my chest when he approached us. Gawking at me, he was admiring what he saw, that much I could gather. Ewwww!
Mr. Adams gave another admonishing gape my way, I’d assumed for me to congratulate his son.
Oh, for crying out loud!
“I hear congratulations are in order. The best to you and your pending nuptials, Sebastian.”
Sebastian joined sides with Alexandria, oddly drawing her into him, much to his mother’s delight. Mrs. Adams was beaming from ear to ear. Sebastian gave an arrogant nod that was followed by an awkward fall of silence.
“Let’s go and freshen up that drink, why don’t we?” Thompson saved the day with his keen observation of a failed peace gathering happening between the Adams’ and me.
“Enjoy the evening,” I said before turning and walking off.
“You look magnificent. I didn’t recognize you at first,” Thompson esteemed as we made our way to the bar.
“So are you trying to say I clean up well, Thompson?” I feigned offended.
“Oh, not at all. It’s just a new side of your beauty and style that I’m witnessing here,” he said conspicuously appraising my ensemble.
“Tsk-tsk, Thompson. Conflict of interest ring a bell?” I wave my index finger gesturing no!
“You’re not gay. Neither are you married, therefore I’m allowed to appreciate what I see.”
I chuckled. “Thanks for the compliment, Thompson,” I say wryly.
The emcee of the evening asked us to locate our assigned seats as the program would begin in fifteen minutes. That announcement halted our pace to the bar.
“Can I get you something while you grab your seat?” Thompson offered.
“No thanks. I’ll just finish this one.” I gave a conspiratorial wink causing his hearty chuckle. “But I’ll follow.” I figured I had nothing else better to do.
At the bar I stood with Thompson as he ordered his scotch. I suddenly had the urge to pee and thought it best not to try and go once things got underway.
“Will you excuse me for a minute while I go to the ladies’ room?”
“Sure. I’ll be right here,” he said as I walked off. I could feel him channeling my booty lustfully as I strutted in direction of the ballroom exit.
I was able to get in and out of the bathroom in no time. When I looked into the vanity while washing my hands, it dawned on me that I must have left my clutch at the bar. I couldn’t freshen up my makeup though thankfully, it was all still intact.
Back at the bar, Thompson was still there waiting as agreed. He had one foot up on the medal rod at the bottom of the bar while resting his alternate leg on the floor with his arms folded on the bar top. I spied my clutch.
“I’m glad you stayed in place. Can’t lose this,” I said retrieving it from the bar. Thompson still held his amorous gawk.
“I meant what I said. You are working that gown, very elegant.”
I narrowed my brows at him. I thought of how Azmir was so insistent that I wore this particular gown. It must be a man thing.
“Thanks again , Mr. Thompson,” I said sardonically.
“Tell me, what would you be doing if you were not obligated to be at your employer’s fundraising ball this evening, Rayna?”
Before I could think to answer, I generously and very pleasantly inhaled an intriguingly familiar fragrance that summonsed my libido. I’d suddenly become aroused in a way I’d never experienced. I’d sensed him before I heard or saw him.
“Well, I hope with me, where she belongs,” a baritone voice, twisting my stomach muscles, spoke so fluidly with hidden snarl.
I felt his arm hook my waist and his hand reached down to my belly causing me to feel claimed and secure. I gasped as I looked up to find Azmir all dapper in his dark blue Tom Ford suit. His eyes were glued to Thompson who stood with his mouth fixed in an “O” shape clearly at a loss for words. Azmir didn’t smile, in fact, he peered at him with an expression that wasn’t fit for words. Azmir broke his glower to look down at me and I could see almost instantly his eyes softening as he kissed me on the forehead. Those trustee currents zapped through me causing me to lose my breath.
“Azmir,” I breathed trying to steady my lungs. “You made it.”
“Of course I did. I couldn’t have missed this for all the tea in China.” He couldn’t hide the sarcasm.
I was winded. “But I thought—” I muttered before he cut me off.
“You’re not drinking that, are you?” I looked over at my hand squeezing the martini glass giving away my edginess. “It can’t be fresh. Plus, you’ve walked away from it. Let’s get you something else.” He sensually chastened in my ear, but loud enough for Thompson to hear.
“Rayna,” Thompson called out, once again allowing his arrogance to rear its ugly head. Not right now, Brian. You don’t want it with A.D.. I begged in my head. “Who’s your friend?” he continued.
I was in the middle of the two sitting on the bar stool as Azmir stood behind me
. I could hear Azmir behind me ordering drinks, though I wasn’t sure of what. I looked up at Azmir, who winked at me with a flexing jaw, before turning back to Thompson.
“Brian Thompson, this is Mr. Azmir Jacobs. Mr. Jacobs, Thompson is the practice’s new attorney.”
“…firm,” Thompson corrected.
“I’m sorry?”
“Law firm. I have a team of attorneys that work for me.”
Seriously?
“Duly noted,” I said feigning rebuked.
The emcee spoke again starting the program. Azmir grabbed our drinks and took my hand leading me away from the bar. I craned my neck back, giving Thompson an apologetic smile. I noted that neither Azmir or Thompson greeted each other after I’d introduced them. Oddly enough, Azmir led me straight to our assigned seats as if he knew exactly where they were. I saw my place card there on the table, to the right of it was Thompson’s and to the left Mr. Katz and his wife were seated. Thankfully, Azmir didn’t notice and simply descended into the seat to the right of me.
Dinner was tasty. The program was less exciting. I was only grateful that I didn’t have to orate. I was stunned when the host announced that Azmir donated $20,000 to the event earmarked for the Long Beach City area, naturally. They only announced large donations. Apparently Azmir’s was the second largest from a personal donor. I was proud and impressed and turned on. Jim Katz jolted toward Azmir with his creased eyes widened in wonderment, as did everyone else at the table. With grace and class Azmir gave a soft bow of the head along with a most humbled smile. I wanted to throw my arms around him, but thought it not appropriate considering the crowd.
As dessert was being served, I realized that Azmir hadn’t said very much to me since we were seated. I didn’t like the vibes I’d been picking up so scooted closer to him.
“Hey, you.” I batted my eyes, still feeling giddy inside by his surprise attendance.
“Hey, yourself.” He took my hand and planted small soft kisses on them causing my chest to rise.
“I’ve missed you. You’ve really outdone yourself this evening, Jacobs,” I said feeling and sounding sappy.
