Love Lost (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Belvin, Love

  “Well, I don’t have to go that far. He’s here,” I said with a big Kool-Aid smile.

  “What? Where?”

  “He could be right outside. If not, somewhere near. He didn’t want me to drive so upset and out of sorts.”

  “Guuuurl, go…get out of here!” she fired off.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to leave you here alone, Michelle. I was planning on telling him to go home and I’ll pick up my car later.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl, Rayna! Think about it, it’s almost four in the morning and daylight will be here shortly. Go!” she pleaded.

  “Where’s Erin?”

  “She’s over a playmate’s. She’ll be going to school with her in the morning. Go!” Michelle demanded almost screaming.

  “Okay, but I’ll be calling you in a few hours!” I warned. I kissed her and said my goodbyes to the group.

  When I stepped into the hallway, Azmir was sitting in a chair with his head cropped back on the wall covering his eyes with his arm. He heard me walk up on him and peered up.

  “Is everything okay with Michelle?”

  “Yeah…she was misbehaving last night and apparently became overly toxic,” I said giggling to myself ruefully.

  “What?” Azmir’s brows furrowed.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll explain in the car.”

  “Oh, you’re ready to go?” he looked surprised.

  “Yeah. It’s after four in the morning and I don’t like having you out this late. I appreciate the ride.”

  “Don’t rush on my account. I’m fine. I know that’s your girl in there.”

  “She requested…no—demanded that I leave and sends her apologies for ruining your big night.”

  His mouth twitched up into a smirk. “You are crazy, girl. Come on.” He stood up a wrapped his arm around me, blanketing me with his signature fragrance that did things to my body, my mind.

  We walked to the elevator and as we waited, he pulled his head down against mine. “You had me scared there for a moment. I can’t stand to see you upset like that.” More comfort. I could get used to it. But I won’t.

  When we got back to his place, I started grabbing my things to get ready to go home. He asked if I had plans to leave at that hour. When I told him yes, he insisted that I stay and get a few hours of sleep before hitting the road. I didn’t exactly come prepared to spend the night but I was so sleepy that my eyes were burning. I put up a little of a fight before accepting his invitation. He gave me a T-shirt of his that fell to my knees. After changing in the bathroom, I went back out into the living room where he was. It was almost five in the morning already. I sat next to him on the sofa and snuggled into his arms drinking in his aroma, his warmth, and all that comes with dominating masculinity. He was so comforting.

  When I woke up only a few hours later, I was in his bed. I don’t think I’d ever slept in a more comfortable bed in my life, even if it were only for a short amount of time. The sheets were so soft and they smelled like Azmir. He was right, the sheets felt divine!

  I then thought to search for him and saw he was nowhere to be found. The California sun was up and shining brightly. I checked my arm for the time. It read seven forty-seven a.m. I jumped from the bed and found the nearest bathroom, which happened to be en suite. On the vanity of the sink, I found a towel, wash cloth, soap, toothbrush, and toothpaste. This man was so thoughtful.

  I washed my face and brushed my teeth before changing and heading out to the living room. As I walked down the corridor, I noticed one of the bedroom doors shut. I’d suddenly realized none of them were shut last night when I had taken the tour. Curiosity got the best of me and I slowly pushed the door open. After looking around, I saw Azmir fast asleep on his stomach exposing his perfectly molded back. My heart went out to him. I knew he was tired after last night. I quietly closed the door and continued towards the living room. I slowly put my sandals on and grabbed my sweater.

  Just when I was about to walk over to the door I heard, “You’re not forgetting your gift, are you?”

  I turned around and saw Azmir standing with a pair of gray cotton knitted pajama pants that rested very low displaying his well-defined hips as he rubbed his eye. His shoulders were broad, his chest carved artfully and his waist tapered. He pointed to the small table against the wall in the foyer where the gift bag was sitting.

  “I’m sorry to wake you. I was trying to be as discreet as possible,” I said apologetically.

  “Oh, nah. I woke up about an hour and half ago. My body is on a timer. Made a call to postpone a few appointments. I tried not to wake you. I had a feeling you were going to try to creep up out of here. Your car is being brought around to the front now,” he spoke in a velvety masculine sleep tone that awakened my libido. My inner freak would have dropped everything, charged at him, and devoured every morsel of him. But the respectable, dignified lady in me was stapled in place ogling his Adonis.

  Libido aside I felt the warmth of his care. “Azmir…thanks for everything. I know you didn’t think our night would’ve ended up like it did but I appreciate everything,” I said feeling defeated.

  He walked over to me and kissed my forehead. My heartbeat accelerated as my face met his iron clad bare chest. Aching throbs blossomed between my legs. Damn! I want this man so badly I can lick him!

  “Don’t trip. It’s all good.” He smelled so good. And his skin was so smooth over his brawny structure. I was mesmerized for a moment. Dazed. I had to remind myself that I had to leave. He walked me to the door and I was off, regrettably.

  On my ride home, I thought to myself he’s so sweet! He carried me to his bed and tucked me in. He even slept in a guest room! As much as the gestures were charming, I was still confused as to his motives. There had to be something more to his attraction. All men had hidden agendas, it was just how the game was played. I only needed to know if I could play by his rules.

  My day started a little late but I got through it. I had an intern deliver a bottle of aged Armand de Brignac to Azmir’s office next door at the rec the following day as a gesture of thanks for that night, to which he replied via handwritten note given to the intern,

  You’ll make good on that night.

  I promise.

  A.D. Jacobs

  After that morning, I didn’t see Azmir for about a week. That seemed to have been our rhythm; we’d enjoy time alone and then go long periods without running into each other. My rehearsals for his party were more frequent and my responsibilities with Michelle were time consuming. We would text each other daily and even touched on the we almost went there topic once or twice.

  In no time guilt from my irresponsible behavior gave way. I was prepared to sleep with Azmir without discussing safety or statuses of sexually transmitted diseases. Perhaps that’s why things didn’t work out. It had been gnawing at me for days. I swore off unprotected sex after my viral gift from Tyquan and that included not knowing my status. I couldn’t walk into another intimate situation with Azmir without being responsible. I eventually made an appointment with my doctor to have a range of STD tests done. I hadn’t been tested in over a year, much because I had not been active. But considering my near-sexual experience with both Richard and Azmir it was clear that sex was something I was likely to do and needed to know my status. I recall being nervous as hell when being poked and prodded for blood and other specimens.

  “Just relax, Rayna. Making the decision was the most challenging part in this process,” Dr. Lighty comforted.

  “And if I’m positive for anything?” I asked with widened eyes and breathing erratically at the thought.

  “Then we’ll treat whatever it is. No need to worry now. You haven’t been sexually active since when?”

  Wow. It’s been so long. “Last summer, maybe?” I couldn’t quite recall. I’d had an encounter or two after the date rape incident.

  “And your last HIV test was last fall. That’s one of the bigger fish. Either way, we’ll cross that bridge
if we get to it. Your results should be back in about a week’s time.”

  I couldn’t eat, think, or breathe after leaving the doctor’s office that day. For some reason, I always experienced those high atwitter episodes around testing seasons. It was as if those naughty demons you’ve danced with all showed up at the time of testing with you.

  Within a week, I was back at the doctor’s office receiving my results.

  “So, as you can see, Rayna, you are clear of them all. But please remember to get tested…”

  “…every six months,” I recited along with her.

  I let out a strong exhale as Molly, the health educator, went over my results with me after taking painstakingly long to go over every sexually transmitted infection that I was tested for and its pathology. It was excruciating. I packed up to leave agreeing to follow up with Dr. Lighty about a selection of birth control. I was negative across the board. For the first time in my life, all negative scores were a welcoming delight.

  It was just after ten a.m. when I headed into the office. I dumped my purse and briefcase at my desk and headed into the copy room where I furtively scanned my records and sent the copies to my e-mail making sure not to be seen. Treading back to my desk, I retrieved the email from the copier, hit forward and sent them to Azmir’s personal e-mail account. I waited…seconds, minutes, hours had passed without a word of receipt.

  My day progressed and around three p.m. Michelle had stopped in with lattes to meet with me about starting Facebook and Twitter accounts for the Long Beach City location. Apparently, the other practices had already done it. I didn’t do social networking mainly because there was no one from my past that I cared to reconnect with. So, Michelle was so gracious to provide guidance and also to discuss quarterly expenditures.

  “I think you’re doing better than the older locations.”

  “Yeah, you think?” I asked nervously. I’d still not gotten comfortable in my role as practice manager. It was as if I was constantly waiting to have the carpet pulled right from underneath me.

  “Oh, yeah. Wayne Tanner over in O.C. has grossly exceeded his allocations by forty percent. Isn’t that ridiculous? I’m sure much of his expenditures go to doting on his female subordinates.”

  We belted out gut-wrenched laughter at that one. Michelle knew all the scoop. There was never a dull moment discussing work with her.

  There was a knock at my door. Sharon came in with a young, smart looking Caucasian woman wearing a pinstriped skirt suit with wide pale legs and blue flats. The rectangular frames of her glasses fit her facial structure well.

  “Ms. Brimm, this is…” Sharon turned to the woman.

  “…Mya Dolson,” the young woman helped her out with a sharp and cold tone.

  Michelle spun her body around to the two women at that curt correction.

  “Yes. Mya Dolson from Klien Medical Center. She has parcel that could only been delivered directly to you.” Sharon looked flustered. She was very much like me in that she didn’t like surprises. She’s authorized to sign off on all of my mail.

  “Ahhh…okay?” I gave noncommittal shrugged. I was caught off guard.

  Mya spoke up. “We typically don’t share such sensitive information at Klein Medical Center, but a client insisted that it came directly from our office to your hands.” She handed me a large manila envelope with the word CONFIDENTIAL plastered all over it.

  “Sign here.” She tendered a confirmation of receipt form. I did as she asked.

  “Good day, ladies.” Mya left my office with Sharon on her heels but not before Sharon giving a strong rolling of the eyes at Mya’s obscure visit.

  “What the hell!” Michelle exclaimed adjusting the glasses on her face.

  “I’m not sure,” I said before tearing into the large package with an envelope knife.

  After scanning the first sheet I immediately located Azmir’s full name and then saw formal names of various diseases, all STD’s I presumed. “NEGATIVE…NEGATIVE…NEGATIVE…” was typed in all corresponding columns.

  “Shit!” I bellowed out as I went through the small pile of papers.

  “Well?” Michelle demanded, clearly on edge.

  “Apparently these are Azmir’s STD test results.”

  “Fuck. Does he get tested for Ebola and the fucking measles regularly, too? That’s quite a stack of papers!” It was obvious that she was just as perplexed as I was.

  “No. Each sheet represents a test year. They go back eight years with his latest test being…” I shifted anxiously through the papers. “…three weeks ago.”

  “Holy mother of god!” Michelle breathed out.

  “Yes! And according to these dates, he’s tested every six months almost to the week! Shit. Do I now feel outdone.” My jaw dropped. I was in awe as I read over the papers. I saw his full name, age, height, weight, and date of birth among other sensitive tidbits.

  “Well, you’ll be fucking and sucking a sterile man…not in terms of reproduction of course,” she quipped.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” I gave a loaded exhale being just as silly as I went to grab my cell to text Azmir.

  I received your sexual history reports minutes ago.

  Seconds later, as Michelle was packing up to leave, my phone pinged and read,You’re clean. I’m clean. Now we can get dirty - officially.

  I felt a salacious pulling in my belly. This man had me going.

  All in due time, Mr. Jacobs…all in due time.

  Indeed.He texted back his signature closing.

  Chapter 9

  Rayna

  The big day was the first Saturday in June and that date was just around the corner. Petey got back in touch with me about the party and put me in contact with the party planner they had hired. I had Jimmie speak with her about the arrangements. She explained that she wanted my performance to include the rapper. From what I understood, the dance wouldn’t involve him at all but he would have a hand in the performance. I sighed with relief. I am no professional.

  I rehearsed at Cobalt the week of the party. I wanted to make sure my game was tight. I also made plans for my time with Azmir that night after the party. I conspired with Petey and was sure it was difficult for him to blindside his dear friend. There were formal invitations going out and I was sure that Azmir could easily make subsequent plans with other friends or acquaintances. Our plans worked hand in hand in throwing Azmir off and pulling off that element of surprise. Azmir was to think that a celebrity friend was renting out the club for that night. As the time passed, I grew more excited about the big night and not just because of the party. It was the after-party I was preparing for.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Azmir

  It was three p.m, on a rainy morning. I was in my office at the rec center going through blueprint models for new homes that were going up in the Watts. After I was done, I decided to move on to the next item on my To Do list.

  “Alex, where are the quarterly profit reports that I asked you for this morning?” I asked my interim assistant over the conference system.

  “Mr. Jacobs, I requested that the managers have them all faxed over by ten a.m. however, the fax has been down since this morning,” Alex answered.

  “What does the fax being down have to do with why those reports weren’t on my desk hours ago?”

  “The truth is, Mr. Jacobs, Peggy told me the repair company would be in to look at the machine between eleven a.m. and four p.m. Last I checked, they hadn’t arrived,” he offered.

  “Alex, the fact of the machine being down isn’t satisfactory enough of an excuse for not having those reports. You could have had them faxed to the rec’s main office downstairs…Hell–you could have had them faxed to the Kinko’s on 7th Street! You could have had them sent electronically in PDF format. Get me those reports now!” I demanded before slamming the button off.

  Peggy knocked on my office door to inform me that I had a visitor. It was Petey. He rarely comes to the rec. I nodded for Peggy to close the door behind h
er. He walked in with a smile on his face, “Dog, I heard you all the way out in the hall. …fuck wrong wit’ you?” he asked as he reached out to give me dap.

  “Man, I’m having a fucked up day. You don’t even wanna know,” I said feeling a little relief from his unexpected visit.

  “What’s going on? Anything I need to handle?” he offered lightly but was serious as hell.

  “Nah, man. It’s all on me,” I said as I rubbed my eyes.

  “You do be looking stressed lately. I heard how you got at Wop and John-John last night, too, man. Is it one of the businesses…or Rayna?” he asked really wanting to know what ailed me.

  “Look man, Im’ma tell you something really personal that stays between me and you,” I warned him.

  “My word is my bond and my bond is my life,” he pledged.

  “Tara told me a couple of months ago that she’s pregnant.” I didn’t get an immediate reaction out of him although I knew I’d had his undivided attention.

  “She said it’s yours?” he asked knowing what time it was. Petey knew about her and the kid, Dwayne.

  Dwayne was an around the way cat that hung out with a mutual friend. He was an aspiring rapper with a promising career. I let them rent out the club in Compton for a video and even borrow a couple of my cars for it. Tara all of a sudden wanted to hang out at The Joint. This was funny because Tara despised that type of environment including the patrons. She was elated when I opened up Cobalt. She said it was a better use of my resources and was for the civilized. Tara went bragging about it to all of her friends.

  Oddly enough, when I began to be invited to music award shows, after-parties, and video shoots she was intrigued. She fell in love with the glamour of it all. Dwayne, also known as D-Struct, was a prodigy of a top west coast music wiz who is also a good friend of mine. I tried to help him out and apparently so did Tara. She and her girl, Essence were hanging out with D-Struct when I wasn’t around. She would tell me Essence wanted Dwayne. The word got back to me that Tara and Dwayne were fucking in the backseat of cars and in the bathrooms up in the studio. Naturally, Petey wanted to get at him. I told him that we’d hold off because little did he know I’d been having mixed feelings about Tara for months at that point and this was my exit strategy. I needed something solid to buffer the blow from her father. I didn’t tell Big D because no matter how cool we are, Tara is still his baby girl and no man wants to hear their daughter is giving head in a studio booth. Tara cut her nose to spite her face. I just sat back letting her dig a hole for herself.