Love Lost (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Belvin, Love

  She flashed the most contrived smile as to say, yeah, whatever, it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. She then turned back to Azmir and said, “I’ll be waiting on that drink. Don’t be long.” Lady Spin walked away.

  “See, Mr. Jacobs, when your girl comes over asking for a drink, it’s not wise to tell her to wait until you’re done talking to another woman,” I said half serious.

  I didn’t know how to feel. Something felt different. I felt a little betrayed. I’d just slept with him days ago. I thought we had made love. We shared a very intimate and romantic evening together. He had even invited me to a social event with a moral theme. You don’t do that to someone you’re just fucking. I couldn’t calculate my next move.

  “That would be true if she were my girl,” he said with a slight pause. “Come…let’s go out on the veranda to talk without all the energy in here.” He motioned to follow him just after he asked the bartender to send a rum and coke to the woman in black in white at the D.J. booth and handed him a twenty dollar tip.

  I followed him with apprehension and eagerness. I didn’t know if I was embarrassing myself by continuing to show interest after discovering he was clearly sleeping with other women. But there was something magnetic about him that didn’t feel shared with others. I’m sure even if I had more time to think about it I would’ve gone with him anyway. And I damn sure wasn’t checking for Sebastian’s ass.

  On the veranda there was a cool breeze flowing. Other patrons of the party were out there mingling and some smoking. I could even swear I saw a few people in a corner bending over a table sniffing coke. I didn’t want to gawk so I couldn’t confirm it.

  We stood as Azmir said, “I want to chat about what you saw in there with Lady Spin. We’re good friends and we have been for a few years now. But that’s it; we’re just friends,” he said calmly yet emphatically.

  “I don’t know, Azmir. Thou seem to protest too much,” I teased.

  I realized that I did it again. A man tried to share a vulnerable moment with me and I shut him down. I didn’t want to do that to Azmir, but there were still some suspicious things about him that made me feel safer in my oyster.

  “Oh, you can’t talk yourself. You’re here on a date,” he quipped.

  “I’m not on a date. Let’s just say I’m fulfilling an obligation to an associate. A date would require wanting to share a space with the person in question,” I defended.

  “So what makes you want to share a space?” he asked while motioning to his bodyguard for a waiter to come over. The waiter came over, took my glass, and asked if I wanted another martini, to which I declined. Azmir ordered Armagnac and the waiter hurried along.

  I didn’t know how to respond. “I don’t know. That’s a difficult one because typically one would run down a wish list of characteristics and attributes and I don’t believe in those. When the person comes along that I want to co-space with, I’ll know.”

  “Well, there has to be some basic elements that you require…” he was urging me to continue.

  I gave him a long look trying to read his face. Where are these questions coming from? Does he really want to know? I looked down at the cobble blocks we stood on until I decided to answer.

  5-4-3-2-1… “Honesty. Just be real with me. Nothing else tops that. And treat me like your equal; not a deficient partner. Don’t feel that my “place” or “part” is any less important than yours. If you can give me truth then you’re giving me unlimited opportunities that can include loving you completely or walking away with my dignity intact. That’s all.” It was a loaded answer but he asked for it.

  The waiter arrived with his drink. Azmir rose his glass. “To honesty and truth. May they be paths where we intersect,” he spoke ardently without the smile. I don’t know if it was the liquor or what, but I believed we connected again right then and there.

  “Thanks again, Azmir, for the car.” I had to address it. I had been riding it and well over the past couple of days and couldn’t be more in love with it. The car had more amenities than I could comprehend. Michelle was anxious to get behind the wheel and I couldn’t deny her of the opportunity the day before.

  “Indeed. I can tell by your smile that you’re enjoying it.”

  “You can tell? How?” I was curious.

  “Women aren’t concerned with what’s under the hood of a car. You guys are typically sold by the aesthetics and features. The S550 is a hell of a car but it didn’t convey the propriety that I was going for. I’m glad it suits you. It says sophistication, like you do.”

  I couldn’t help but drink his words in. They were flattering to say the least. We chatted for what seemed like minutes, being more loquacious than ever. It may have been over an hour when Sebastian walked up on us. He was with a Caucasian male who was asking, “Oh, is this her?”

  Sebastian looked like steam was piping out of his ears. I didn’t know what pissed him off more, the fact that I’d been scarce all evening and he had to come looking for me or that he couldn’t express his anger without embarrassing himself publically.

  “I’ve been looking all around for you.” Sebastian’s tone was controlled.

  The Caucasian fellow interjected, “Rayna? Hi, I’m Paul! I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad you guys could come and hang out tonight.” I shook his hand and smiled before cutting my eyes back to Sebastian who was glaring profusely at Azmir.

  “I hope you enjoyed the featured artist and the party?” Paul continued with enthusiasm.

  “I did. Thanks, Paul,” I said with a minor giggle thinking how I couldn’t remember hearing a live performance because I was too preoccupied with Azmir.

  “You’ve been out here all night making friends?” Sebastian facetiously asked.

  Paul had to have felt the negative vibes Sebastian was giving off because it was so damn thick that one could choke from his fumes. Azmir didn’t move.

  “Well, she’s in great company, Dr. Adams! This is Mr. Azmir Jacobs. He’s one of the owners of the venue,” Paul interjected. “Mr. Jacobs, this is Dr. Sebastian Adams. He’s my children’s pediatrician out in Venice Beach.”

  Azmir nodded while staring impassively back at Sebastian. Sebastian proffered his hand and Azmir obliged.

  “Sweetheart, I’m ready to take you home now. I told Paul about your headache that’s keeping you from enjoying the full spectrum of the night. I’ve kept you long enough. Let’s call it a night,” Sebastian attempted a facade.

  “Oh?” I asked. There was a long pause once again. Sebastian kept glowering at Azmir. It was almost as if he was asking with his eyes, What are you doing with my girl? Are you a threat that I should be concerned about?

  I broke the silence abruptly with, “Paul, it was a pleasure!” and offered my hand. He reciprocated with a few kind words. Then I turned to Azmir and said, “Mr. Jacobs, it was great chatting with you. I hope you enjoy yourself at Junie’s soirée,” I teased, subtly letting him know that I didn’t forget his exchange with ole’ girl earlier.

  He smiled and replied, “Oh, there was a misunderstanding. I actually have an acquisition meeting this evening…prime property. Can’t sit or sleep on a diamond deal.”

  I didn’t get what he meant but was happy to run circles around Sebastian’s head by our coded exchange. With that, we walked off.

  While waiting on the car to pull up Sebastian heckled, “You know, if you wanted an aspiring rapper, I could’ve dropped you off in Compton.”

  No, this asshole didn’t try to insult me! The funny thing about it was when I thought about who Azmir was professionally, Sebastian actually embarrassed himself. He knew Azmir was a businessman. Paul told him so and Azmir mentioned an acquisition meeting. He was trying to get underneath my skin by belittling me—again!

  “I really don’t have time for this shit again. Just take me home, Sebastian,” I said pointedly.

  “Again? What do you mean “again”?

  “What I mean is I’m sick of your clown ass trying to make me
feel like the poor, urban, ghetto girl. That shit is getting a little tired, Sebastian. If I’m so beneath your Oreo ass, why the hell do you keep in touch?” I hissed.

  “Do you want me to get lost? Fine, Rayna! I’ll get lost just as soon as you repay me! You think you can have a check on my desk by the end of the week?” he taunted.

  The car had just pulled up and as I went to the passenger door I said, “Oh, I will pay you back real soon and with interest…before I catch a goddamn case!” Before the valet kid could get to my side of the car I’d already gotten in and slammed the door shut.

  I was hot and embarrassed. Never in life did I expect to have anyone speak that way to me or treat me so low. I couldn’t wait to get back to Michelle’s and then home. There was silence during the ride back. All I could think about was how I was going to get ten thousand dollars back to him. I couldn’t take out a loan because my credit was tied up with the new house. Even if I knew someone with that kind of bank, I wouldn’t dare take another personal loan to pay him back. That’s what got me into this predicament.

  Minutes away from Michelle’s, Sebastian broke the silence by saying, “Listen, Rayna. You don’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore. I know that you will not be finished with your payments anytime soon but outside of that we shouldn’t see each other.” There was silence. I hope he didn’t expect the courtesy of a response because he damn sure wasn’t getting one. He continued, “By the way, I think we should start a monthly payment plan to ensure my refund. How does a thousand sound for the next ten months?”

  He knew I couldn’t afford that! He was being an ass.

  “Sebastian, I actually had in mind a schedule that would be more expeditious. Let me work on the numbers and get back to you with my decision in a day or so.” With that, I exited the car with an ounce of dignity intact.

  I knew I had no means of paying him back. He waited a few seconds as if he was debating on what to say to “fix” the mess he had made. I maintained my speed to Michelle’s door as if my life depended on it.

  After learning Michelle wasn’t home and making sure Sebastian had pulled off, I jumped in my car and went home. I needed to think—think really hard. I hate having my back pinned against the wall like this. My neck started to cramp up.

  Once I got in, I turned on the stereo to soft music. There was this artist named Ledisi that Michelle was raving about so she bought me the CD. I’d been listening to it for a few days now and even developed a few favorite tracks. I went to my bedroom, disrobed and threw on a bikini. I then went out to my patio where the previous owners had a Jacuzzi installed. I maintained it for recreational use—and man, did I need it this night.

  It was a few minutes after midnight. The music streamed from the outdoor speakers. It was loud enough to feel and low enough to relax. I began preparing the water. Then I went to my wine rack in the living room and selected a bottle of pinot noir. It was potent enough to do the job yet, not too bitter to taste. I poured a glass then took the bottle outside and set it on the lip of the tub. After the water was ready, I slowly walked in until all but my head was submerged. A million and one thoughts ran through my head about this debt I was in. What got me was how I had excellent credit. All my bills were current and I had no outstanding balances due. All this and I still owed a significant amount of money to this asshole. I’m sure this wouldn’t be an issue if I was giving him some ass. That’s how I got the money in the first place. He thought I would eventually sleep with him. I could never stoop so low. I had to do something and fast!

  The doorbell rang. I was somewhat frightened because I’d never gotten unexpected guests and the only guests I would get were Michelle and Erin. I got out of the Jacuzzi and wrapped my towel around my frame before heading into the house.

  As I approached the door I asked, “Who is it?”

  I didn’t know what response to expect. I often had to remind myself that I lived in a very safe neighborhood and for the most part, I could relax. But the city girl in me always intervened and reminded me not to get too lax.

  “Azmir,” a masculine voice responded. My heart began to speed up. I looked through the peephole to see him looking down. I couldn’t believe it was Azmir.

  I unlocked and opened the door. I stood there with a posture of concern. I broke the silence with, “What are you doing here?” I didn’t know what else to say. I’d never exactly told him where I lived.

  “I told you I had an acquisition meeting,” he said calmly yet with humor.

  I caught on and chuckled. There was a pause. He interrupted it with, “Look…man—”

  “Man?” I scolded playfully. I sensed Azmir was nervous because never did he address me with urban vernacular. I recognized a while back that it was in him, but rarely did he expose it to me.

  “Excuse me…Rayna,” he corrected himself and then continued. “I don’t mean to intrude but I didn’t like the way we parted ways. You seemed perplexed and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “So, what…you’re my guardian angel?” I continued to tease with a smile. I was damn near drunk.

  “If you need me to be…” he spoke in such an ardent tone. I felt it.

  I moved out of the doorway gesturing for him to come inside. He did. As he whisked past me I caught a delightful whiff of his cologne. It had caught my attention and led me to think how it was the wee hours of the morning and the fragrance was still persuasive. As I was thinking to lead him to the patio, I noticed he was checking out my place. It reminded me once again that he’d never been over.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Azmir

  Her place was nice. Not too big—not too small. It was mildly decorated and hardly personalized. She had the basics—furniture, television, books on the shelves, but there were little personal effects. I saw a few framed candid photos of her and Michelle and some of a little girl but that was it. I’m big on gaining indistinct information and facts about a person. People are never upfront about who they are and will only divulge what they’re comfortable with. This is why I go to great measures to screen my personal assistants. It’s not just the typical series of interviews procedure. I go to their home, church, gym, and have them trailed by a private investigator among other measures. There was something hidden about Rayna but I still got a feeling that I could trust her. I noticed she had a towel wrapped around her so I asked, “Were you bathing?”

  “Oh…no. I was in the hot tub.”

  “Alone?” I had my heat just in case ole’ cornball was here. Though I didn’t think I needed it with his slouch ass.

  “Ummmm…yeah.”

  “Well, don’t let me disturb you.” I gave her a one over. “I don’t have to join you in the water to stay for company, do I?”

  “Can I offer you a drink?” I guessed that was her way of agreeing to me staying.

  “Please.”

  She poured me a glass of pinot noir and I followed her out the sliding doors onto her patio. Her backyard was small but neat. Aside from the Jacuzzi, the space was green with a nice bed of grass. There were a few chairs out, randomly placed there in the gated space. It was well lit and I saw pretty little flowers planted along the enclosed fence. She didn’t get back into the Jacuzzi. Instead, she pulled up a chair to the one she invited me to occupy.

  “So, are you alright?” I asked.

  She sighed, “Oh, of course,” unconvincingly.

  “Okay, because it looked like duke had a grip on that ass,” I said in jest as I looked for a reaction. She kept her eyes glued to the white picketed fence just a few feet away.

  “Yeah…” Rayna sounded really broken.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Rayna?” She concerned me and confirmed my reasons for coming by.

  “Why do men have to have their egos stroked all the damn time? As a woman, you’re criticized for being independent but as soon as we show a moment of vulnerability, a man happily jumps in and saves the day but…” she paused desolately.

  “But what?” I wanted
her to continue. She took an extensive pause before saying, “Why does something always have to be attached to it? I mean, time after time, I’ve been chased and when and if I decide to take the hook, there’s always a gotcha-gotcha.”

  “That’s because you’ve been choosing boys—under-developed men.” With that, she looked at me. Her eyes were big, innocent, and still sexy as hell. At that moment, I noticed her beautiful, smooth, caramel skin. It was flawless. Her hair was pushed back into a ponytail. She had no make-up on—just sporting her natural innocence. She was fucking art!

  “Baby girl, you’re still young. You haven’t run across a quality man yet.” I scoffed. “That damn sure wasn’t one I met earlier. What do you owe him? What did he pay for?” It was clear that this issue was about a debt.

  “I never exactly “chose” him. He came in sheep’s clothing and then…the gotcha-gotcha. We went on a couple of official dates before I caught on to him. He tried to insult me like I was trash…like a hood rat. When he saw it wasn’t that easy…he raised the stakes.” She drifted again.

  “You never answered my question.”

  “What was that?”

  “What did he pay for and how much?”

  She popped out of her seat nervously. Her towel slipped as she walked over to the hot tub. I was in awe of her shape. I mean, damn! I know I cracked that ass but I was so twisted with desire both nights that I didn’t take it all in. An hourglass shape with a small waist and pear ass! When she fully removed the towel by dropping it, her bikini was revealed. It was a sexy number. I had to calm myself down and get back into counseling mode. I sincerely wanted to be a friend to Rayna in her time of need.

  She sat on the edge of the tub immersing only her feet. I heard the water swish from her swaying movements. Her back was toward me and her head tilted to the side. She was giving me that reluctant vulnerability she’d just spoken of. Seconds later, she uttered, “Ten grand and as of tonight—with interest.”

  That fucking maxi pad clown ass is sweating her for ten beans?