Love Lost (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Belvin, Love

  “This is a 2012 Mercedes 550 S-Class Series. It seats six people, five comfortably. It has all the bells and whistles…heated steering wheel, multi-contour seats with massage capabilities, paranormal sunroof, power sunshades located on the side windows, active body control with crosswind stabilization, cargo net for storage, driver assistance package…errrrrrr—let’s see…four zone climate control, night view to assist with pedestrian detection. Details you may not be interesting in…V-8 engine for 4Matic, fulltime all-wheel drive, 10-spoke alloy wheels, fuel economy with 15 city miles and 23 highway. Although there’s more that I can say, I’m sure you’ll take time to familiarize yourself with her. I know you said you don’t have much time but do you want to take her for a spin around the parking lot? I can adjust the seat for your comfort.”

  Adjust the seat for my comfort? Why would he do that?

  “Is Azmir selling me this car? I can’t afford a damn Mercedes Benz 550—or any Mercedes Benz for that matter!” I didn’t know what he thought I’d earned running this practice but I couldn’t afford this.

  Ray gave a belly-shaking laugh, apparently amused by my borderline pissed off reaction. “Ms. Brimm, he isn’t selling you this car. He’s loaning it to you until you say when. And believe me when I say you’re doing me a big favor. This thing only gets started up when I take it for a maintenance run. It has less than fifty miles on it.”

  My mouth was suspended in complete bewilderment, it was wide open and my eyes were widened in disorientation. What in the hell? I eyed the big body Benz from hood to trunk in disbelief. I heard Ray laugh again. He got out of the car and closed the door behind.

  “Well, I know you have to get back to work. Here’s my card. Give me a call with any questions. Mr. Jacobs will take care of all the maintenance of the car. Use that card if something comes up unexpectedly.” He stood before me handing me the key.

  “Ray, I can’t take this. What am I going to do with a luxury car? I can’t even afford to put gas in it!” I couldn’t look him in his face, I was stuck in awe.

  “I’ll be sure to make Mr. Jacobs aware of that, but I have to do my job and drop off the car to you. Should you have any questions, he asked that you contact him. Otherwise, I bid you a good day, Ms. Brimm. Enjoy your new vehicle,” Ray spoke with a knowing smile and all but dropped the keys in my hand.

  He walked off, leaving me there standing in a stupor. When that registered, I jumped and called out to him, “Ray…! I can’t…”

  He chuckled and said, “He told me you would resist it but I have a job to do. If you have a problem, Ms. Brimm, give the big man a call,” Ray shouted in the distance as he continued his stride away from me.

  After a moment’s time, I charged back into the building, past Sharon’s curious glare and in the privacy of my office. I dialed Azmir whose voicemail picked up. I left a message urging him to call me back right away and didn’t realize until it was done that I’d slammed the receiver down when I hung up. I stood there next to my desk trembling uncontrollably. The only person I’d allow a hand from is Michelle. His wooing with the luggage and trip were nonessentials, I didn’t need them so it was fair game. This massive, apparently underused, vehicle comes at a time that I do need a car. It took everything that I could muster to keep my tears contained. I had to quickly snap out of it and go into my next appointment, which I managed to do.

  I checked my phone it seemed every ten minutes awaiting Azmir’s call. It wasn’t until my second afternoon appointment that I heard from him. I rushed down into my office after giving my PT assistant instructions for my absence.

  “Rayna Brimm speaking. How may I assist you?”

  “Ms. Brimm.” Azmir’s silky-smooth voice never failed to stir up lasciviousness currents deep down inside of me. It didn’t matter that my period had begun. My body still responded. “I just received your message. You sounded angry. I hope you’d hear me out when I say that I’m not trying to play sugar daddy, neither is this part of the chase. It’s simply seeing a need that we both had and figuring out a way that we can address them while helping each other.”

  I was confused. “We both had…I mean have a need?”

  “Yes, your car conked out on you and I had a car that was never used other than being driven off the lot. I ordered it back in 2011 when I thought I wanted it for casual usage and against Ray’s advice, I bought it and hated it. He never said I told you so but I know that’s what he means. It was just sitting at the Marina in the garage wasting away. I’ve never remembered to sell it but when your issue arose yesterday, Ray brought up the S-Class.”

  There was a pause. I rubbed my eyes in frustration. “Azmir, I drove a ’98 Chevy Cavalier! How do I go from that to a 2012 S-Class and feel dignified?”

  “I know what you drove. It was a damn box on wheels.” We laughed together at that—I laughed, Azmir chuckled. It was hideous. “You’re doing me a favor, Brimm.”

  “But how do I justify an S-Class? I mean, what do you graduate to from a damn S-Class?”

  “It’s justified through a solid friendship.” The word friendship, as far as it was from anything significant, warmed me, but I had to resist it.

  “That’s the thing, Azmir, we’re just friends. It looks off.”

  “I don’t give a damn what people think about what I do with and for you. It’s between the two of us. Take the car, Brimm. It’s been paid for. Just drive it.”

  That conjured another dilemma. “Azmir, it just hit me, I can’t afford the insurance on that car!”

  “We can keep the policy as is, in my name, or I can cover it in yours if that makes you feel comfortable. I don’t mind assuming the risk. Hold on…” I heard someone speaking in the background. “I’ll be right in,” he curtly responded to whoever interrupted him as if it irked him. “Ms. Brimm, I have to go. Take the car, please. Don’t think, just act. I’ll be back in town this weekend, why don’t we make time for lunch next week. If you still have reservations we can discuss them then.”

  I let out a deep breath in concession. He had to go and so did I.

  “Thanks, Azmir. I really appreciate this.”

  “Indeed.” And he was off again. He left a glimmer of hope when he suggested lunch. I’d have to wait until next week to see him—that I didn’t like.

  I checked the time and saw that I had a few more minutes before the end of the current session happening in my absence. I called Michelle filling her in on the car endowment.

  “Bitch! You better rewind back to what the hell you put on him in Phoenix!” Michelle shouted in my ear.

  “Shelly, you’re exposing your African American hood ancestry now…” I tried calming her before she interjected.

  “Hell, no! You’re holding back on something…” There was a pause as she was interrupted by her thoughts. “You sucked that big black cock, didn’t you? I mean, you had to—to be asked to stay the night and then given a damn Benz the next day!”

  I hadn’t talked to Michelle about the happenings of my Phoenix trip so she didn’t know that Azmir had planned for me to stay the night when he invited the morning before. Still, I had to go so I got off informing her that she didn’t have to pick me up but that I’d be right over after dance class with some things for Erin and would fill her in then.

  I hung up from her and tried to continue my day and unsuccessfully play down my excitement about the car. It was such a relief to know that I had reliable transportation and a bonus that it was luxury.

  Chapter 11

  Rayna

  That Sunday evening was my much dreaded appointed time with Sebastian at the industry party that a friend of his was throwing for a client. It so happened that the friend he was referring to was the father of one of his patients. They grew to become friends over the years and he thought to invite him to what he described would be a celebrity packed event. I had no idea why he was asking me to be his date. I didn’t want to be bothered with him at all. I felt deep down inside he just wanted arm candy and knew that I’d fit t
he bill. As with any other occasion when he asked me out, I couldn’t turn him down, my conscious wouldn’t allow it. Per usual, against my better judgment I agreed.

  On the way to the venue, he explained that it was an album release party for an up and coming artist on a major label. His friend, Paul, has his own event planning business and does big parties like this all the time. We pulled up in Sebastian’s peach colored Boxster Porsche to Zone, a popular lounge in West Hollywood. I hated moments like this when we were serviced from his car…this car. It made Sebastian front like he was stunting—and he wasn’t. This car wasn’t the latest model like a real baller’s would be. His dad bought it for him as a med school graduation gift and it was almost ten years old. I know Porches are such great cars and that being ten years old doesn’t matter because they’re premium, but his swagger was fit for a brand spanking new one. It always irked me!

  There was a long line of people trying to get in. I immediately noticed the small red carpet event but of course we didn’t oblige because we were nobodies to the world at large. The energy was high and so was Sebastian’s ego. He thought he was impressing me. While I did like the ambiance and liveliness of the atmosphere, he contributed nothing to it and I could have easily had stayed home.

  Almost as soon as we entered the building, I immediately began spotting celebrities. They were all around and moving about like every day ordinary people for the most part. There were established artists, popular record executives, athletes, and actors in the house. Although this was an R&B artist, there were even artists there from other genres of music like rock and pop.

  “I’d like to find Paul and let him know that I’m here,” Sebastian gushed with excitement.

  “Okay. You do that. I’m going to the bar for a drink,” I said trying to break away from him right away. I was surprised he had no objections. After all, he did bring me along for company.

  I didn’t care to be up under him. I was trying to roll alone as much as I could. I’d never been to an industry event and it showed. I went to the bar and ordered a cosmo. After the bartender handed me my drink I pulled out cash and gestured as to ask “How much?” The dark haired, olive toned gentleman yelled over the music, “Open bar, sweetheart.”, as he pointed to the large vase tip jar there on the bar. I was mortified and hoped no one had caught that. It was clear that I was a newbie to industry events. There were people crowding the bar including the wait-staff. I just sat back sipped on my drink and people-watched.

  The room resembled a large loft. The ceilings were extremely high. There were thick columnar posts reaching from floor to ceiling. Hanging from many of them where long pieces of blue suede fabric. The floor was white glass with lights beneath giving a festive appearance. The bar was white with metal stools. The room looked as if it were pseudo-decorated while still under construction. Very modish. The music was hot though I noticed no one exactly danced. This was the “cool” crowd so I guessed that wasn’t appropriate for the occasion. I almost choked on my drink when I noticed one of my favorite rappers interfacing with another man but behaving very femininely. I made a mental note to tell Michelle that he was off our “can get it” list. No one really spoke outside of guys giving an occasional wink or intrigued gape. I wasn’t at all interested. Besides, I was technically there as someone’s date.

  After sitting and people watching for a few minutes, I noticed Sebastian making his way towards me. I rolled my eyes and braced myself.

  “Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you! I wanted to introduce you to some people. You should be up mingling with me. There are potential clients here for the practice,” he preached.

  I wasn’t in the mood to be lectured to or for brown-nosing. “Sebastian, I’m fine. I’m enjoying myself and the last thing on my mind is walking around soliciting business. If you think that’s appropriate then you go and promote your practice,” I said as nice as I could or as nice as the sentiment could possibly sound.

  He got the hint but didn’t like it at all and followed up with, “If you didn’t want to come I had a half a dozen other women I could have asked instead—” I looked at him with empty eyes. I knew that wasn’t true at all considering he was always asking me to go to places with him. I eventually got it; I made him look good. I was a medical professional running a full office, articulate and witty. Not only did I have brains but I was beautiful as well. Who wouldn’t be impressed? Once I got the memo, I no longer let him get to me. It confused me at first because I found out early in the game that he believes he’s superior to me.

  Cutting him off, I fired back, “Yeah,” in faux agreement before taking a swig of my Cosmo. Then I continued, “…but then you wouldn’t be here with the one you really want.” I abruptly stood and walked away.

  After casing the room, I found a seat near the stage and sat there for a good while. I had to laugh to myself. It wasn’t that bad being there alone. I didn’t come alone but I certainly wasn’t with the person I had come with. I needed another drink so I made my way back to the bar. Two drinks had always been my limit so I was preparing to bring it home. When the bartender motioned to me, I asked for a lemon drop martini. I took a another look around the place and realized how packed it had become. I thought about Sebastian, hoping he was having a good time wherever he was and happy it wasn’t with me.

  “My…my…my! What a pleasant surprise,” a silky, masculine, baritone and very familiar voice chanted. I turned to find Azmir wearing the sexiest grin I’d ever seen. I nearly choked on my drink.

  “Mmmmm…” was all I could manage to keep my drink in my mouth and swallowing it before saying, “Mr. Jacobs, how crazy it is that I see you here!”

  All those carnal feelings from our night in Phoenix came flooding in. I was mesmerized. He was fine, absolutely gorgeous. I can’t emphasize that enough. His chocolate skin was clear and glistening. His goatee was neatly shaven and his teeth were an even shade of white. He wore a pair of raw gray denim jeans, a white graphic T-shirt with a silver, black and baby blue graphic in it, a baby blue track jacket and to top it off, a pair of crisp Jordans. He accessorized with a platinum chain anchoring a diamond encrusted cross. I wasn’t used to this look for him but I liked it—a lot. It reminded me that, similar to me, he has many layers. I couldn’t decide which look I liked best for him; the businessman in designer suits, this urban style with the jeans and jewelry or the athletic guy in sweat suits.

  “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were into this type of scene.” With his chin, he gestured around the room. He stood there with his head cocked to the side and his tongue pushing into his molars. It stirred something in my core.

  “I could say the same about you,” I replied using the line I’d stolen from him that morning he invited me out to Phoenix. Honestly, I didn’t know what Azmir was really into. I also didn’t know he had returned to L.A. “When did you get back into town?”

  “I arrived this morning. Who are you with?” he asked looking over my shoulder for a familiar face.

  “A friend,” I answered sheepishly. His brows furrowed and as much as I tried to escape it, I couldn’t turn away from his magnetic gaze. A grin cracked his handsome face.

  “Oh. Ms. Brimm’s here on a date?” he teased wearing his signature panty-snatching smile. Damn.

  I grew visibly uncomfortable and even shifted on my stool and said, “Not exactly but I am here with someone.”

  “Okay, so you’re here with someone but not on a date? This is a new one—even for you, Rayna.” Azmir looked a little sour.

  I tried to detract that mood by asking, “So, is Petey here?”

  “Oh, nah. I’m here with a little muscle so basically…I’m alone.” At that time, I didn’t understand why he had security.

  We talked for a few minutes before a woman with a red-boned complexion and honey-blonde dyed hair came up and approached Azmir. She had on a tight black miniskirt, a white sleeveless halter-top blouse with ruffles around the collar, black silk stockings and black paten
t leather booties. She wore a lot of make-up but looked okay. She appeared to be very familiar with Azmir. She touched him with intimacy. I could tell he’d been sleeping with her.

  “Divine, could you get me a rum and coke before we go live?” she asked. “You see Angie and them over there, right? They crack me the hell up! I can’t wait to be done here.” Azmir chuckled as if he got the meaning of her reference beyond the few words she uttered. Shit! They have a connection. “We still going to Junie’s, right?” she continued. Her voice was so familiar but I couldn’t place where I had heard it before.

  “I’ll bring your drink when I’m done talking,” Azmir said unapologetically.

  I was embarrassed for her. She pivoted to see who was in his company. I don’t know what my face read because it had all happened so fast. I was just glad that I was looking the part. I wore a fitted golden yellow midi dress that caped around my neck looking unassuming in the front but the back of it opened at the shoulders exposing my entire back almost cowl-style. My feet were laced in bootie-like gold-metallic, ankle strap sandals decorated with gold bolts. My hair was pulled back into a long ponytail that draped over my left shoulder. I was looking fairly decent and it was obvious by her reaction to me.

  She eyed me from head to toe while asking Azmir, “Oh, so who’s this?” with a faux smile.

  Azmir maintained that seductive grin with his set exclusively on me, “A good friend of mine, Rayna Brimm. Ms. Brimm, this is Lady Spin from 101.8 Hot Jams. She’s a radio personality there with a syndicated show. I’m sure you’ve heard her on the radio.”

  “Well, of course. It’s a pleasure,” I lied.

  I rarely listened to L.A. radio. It was whack and didn’t hold a candle to New York’s. One of the many things I purchased when I traveled back home were mix tapes. I kept those in the car for times when I wanted to jam. But he was right, I’d likely had heard her on the radio over the past few years since living in L.A. I felt like that was the least I could say to keep what appeared to be an awkward meeting civil.