by Belvin, Love
Twenty minutes later, Azmir returned with three pieces of wheat toast for me and a huge plate of delectable food for himself. God, my guy could pack it away without consequence! He set up a tray for me that included water and ginger ale and sat across from me on the L shape sofa. It took some time for me to consume the toast, but I got at least one slice down before I gave up on eating all together.
Just as Azmir put down his tray and mounted his laptop onto his lap, I had the urge to go to the bathroom. I practically jumped from my seat and made a dash back to the powder room, out near the great room. Azmir was on my heels until I left the room. He watched me from the door of the master suite down into the hall. I stayed in there for nearly forty-five minutes, dispelling the toast and liquids I’d just eaten, causing me to feel dirty all over again. My ribs throbbed all over again, my mouth reeked of foulness all over again.
I made my way back to the suite and stopped at the door in exhaustion from the commute. Azmir sensed my presence and quickly jotted from the sitting area to the en suite bathroom and started the shower process all over again, yet again reading my mind.
Once we were done, he carried me to the bed, but I explained that I didn’t want to spread my germs to our coveted resting place and I’d preferred sleeping on the floor, next to the bathroom instead. Azmir graciously made a huge pallet of plush blankets for me on the floor in the region of the master suite between the bed area and the bathroom. I didn’t need all the space, but didn’t question his kindness. I eventually learned the extra spot was for him when I felt him crawl under the sheet next to me when he came to bed. His kissed the back of my neck as he always did before falling asleep. I couldn’t understand how he was still able to express adoration after my disgusting illness today.
That night was spent in complete restlessness from me getting up a half a dozen times to visit the bathroom with the last being just before six in the morning when Azmir was up at his usual rising time. He helped me shower again and set me up on the sofa in the sitting room where I finally slept for nearly four hours and more restfully than I did that night before. My body was completely depleted from being internally overworked.
When I awoke, it was almost noon. I challenged myself to walk and discovered though I was still weak, my head didn’t spin, leaving me to find my equilibrium as the previous day. I slowly walked the hall in search of Azmir who was in his office working at his computer. I stopped and rested against the door frame. He had a pencil in his ear and writing with a pen in his hand while checking something against the computer. His head rose almost immediately, landing his beautiful eyes on me.
“You’re up.” His expression was like a deer caught in headlights. “How are you feeling?” I was so appreciative of his attentiveness to me over the past twenty-four hours or so.
I smiled softly. “I’ve seen better days.”
“I think it’s time for you to try to eat something…at least drink something. You look wan. Let’s try you on some broth…maybe with tofu or something with substance. I’ll call and order it from the Japanese spot.”
“Okay,” I nodded. I felt embarrassed and vulnerable. “Did I keep you from something?” I asked as he made his way towards me. “…like work?” I hated to be a bother.
With his eyebrows furrowed he scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just glad this went down on my watch. I would’ve gone crazy knowing that you were here sick while I was out of town.” He reached for the small of my back and softly kissed my forehead.
“I just hate to be a burden and keep you from work or anything you had planned this weekend,” I muttered apologetically. It was true. I now, more than ever, understood how busy a man Azmir was. He was responsible for and depended on by countless people.
He looked me in my eyes. “You were my weekend agenda. You are always my weekend agenda, Rayna, unless you plan otherwise.” He was annoyed, according to his tone.
He strolled to the kitchen. Did I manage to piss him off again? I followed him at a reserved pace and crawled into a chair at the kitchen table and watched as he placed the order for the resident concierge to pick up and deliver it to our door.
The broth was gentle on my stomach and I could assess that the virus was easing up on me. We spent that Sunday relaxing, watching television, and Azmir got some work in. My trips to the bathroom came to a halt that afternoon. I even felt up for a walk on the marina. It was a beautiful evening breeze out on the water. Azmir continued his quest to learn more about the woman I was before moving out to California. I answered his questions to the best of my trusting abilities. I’d even gotten more information on his childhood. We talked about his current business projects and he offered to have me travel with him.
The following morning, after having Chef Boyd serve me toasted croissants to spruce up my breakfast considering my dietary restrictions, Azmir hesitantly left for work and insisted that I stay behind to get some rest. He was right. Although my bathroom needs had ended, I was slightly dehydrated and needed to take it easy for at least one more day. I called in and let the staff know that I’d be available via telephone should they need me. Chef Boyd left around nine that morning and informed me that he made a special broth soup for me considering my bug. I returned to bed after seeing him out.
I didn’t sleep much after Azmir left for work. My body was officially thrown off its daily program. Once resigned to the fact that sleep wasn’t going to happen, I pulled out my laptop to return e-mails and worked from home. At around twelve thirty, I was still on my laptop in between working and shopping for a thank you gift for Azmir when I got a new e-mail notification. I soon discovered that it was from Sharon, furnishing me with Azmir’s weekly schedule. I’d totally forgotten about this tradition. We’d been doing it for months since he suggested it, believing it would make us more “in sync”, but I never really took advantage of it. Perhaps for the first few weeks I felt like a lucky girl to be the recipient of the Great A.D. Jacobs’ weekly itinerary, but as time progressed my anticipation of it had dulled. And when I moved in with him, it had really become useless as he often shared much of his whereabouts with me, for the most part, by way of conversation.
Just like that morning, before he left, he informed me that he was headed to a staff meeting at Cobalt, followed by a disciplinary meeting for one of his bar managers there. Then he’d be making his way to the rec center. I decided to match his itinerary against what he shared with me earlier out of pure boredom. After a few clicks, I started at the top of his day, confirming his aforementioned plans until I got to a twelve forty-five luncheon with Bacote & Taylor Public Relations Team there at the rec. The name Taylor struck me. It had to be that Dawn Taylor.
I gasped. Azmir didn’t announce that this morning! Not that he had to. Azmir owed me no previews of or explanations of his affairs—work-related or otherwise. I was not his…girlfriend. There. I said it to myself! Ugh!
That quickly I’d forgotten all about Dawn and her crushing on Azmir. I recalled Azmir being surprised by their visit to the West Coast that Friday night in Vegas and how Dawn said they decided to fly out at the last minute. So when was this luncheon planned? I checked the time again and thought that it was fifteen minutes before their scheduled meeting. My head spun and my heart raced.
Out of all the women who presented as competition for Azmir’s attention, Dawn made me uneasy, heck—JEALOUS! I couldn’t figure out why. Azmir had a constant and dedicated legion of women who fawned over him—in my presence even. Maybe I viewed her as a strong rival, but why? I knew nothing about her other than she was possibly from Atlanta and that she was rather good looking. I felt light flutters in my belly and they weren’t related to my recent illness. I panicked and grabbed my phone to text Azmir.
Hey…what are you up to?
Within seconds, I got a ping.
About to go into a meeting. How are you feeling? Are you okay? Have you eaten lunch?
He was still concerned.
I’m fine. Can’t wait for you to
come home later.
I knew I was running game. For the first time, I’d referred to his place as home.
Me too. I’m exhausted. I’ll warm up dinner. You just rest. I gotta go.
It was clear that our conversation was over and I didn’t like it. I wanted to intercept his interfacing with Dawn Desperato Taylor. She was practically salivating that night, in Vegas, at the club when she ogled Azmir.
I had to do something. Devious and insecure thoughts began invading my mind. I dashed into the closet in search of something to throw on—something appropriate for the occasion. I had to fight with my dirty hair to pull it up into a bun on top of my head. Then I took to the vanity to apply make-up. I wore very minimal make-up unless I was going out socially, but today was all about deliberate tactics, also I didn’t want to look as sick as I’d been and needed to color in the recent paleness of my skin.
Twenty minutes later, on my way to the door, I gave myself a once over in the full-body mirror in the master closet. My black sleeveless, skin-tight cat-suit, with a yellow blazer, blue hidden double platform suede Red Bottoms and red clutch completed my look. I did a soft blue smoky eye to match my shoes and nude lips. I headed out the door for the LBC.
En route, I called Peg to ask for Azmir, knowing she’d tell me he was unavailable, but hoped she’d give me the keywords of his unavailability that I needed to locate him.
“He’s in the cafeteria in a luncheon meeting, Ms. Brimm. I can tell him to call you when he returns,” she said in a tone just below rude. She was warming up to me, though not at an expedited rate as I’d wished.
Pissed that they were eating in the same place where he initially pursued me, I pushed the down on the accelerator even more to get me there faster. As I walked into the rec, I was relieved to see a familiar face at the desk so that I could just whisk past to the elevator to head down to the cafeteria. The café was rather large and because it was during the lunch hours the place was pretty packed.
It took little time for me to locate him in the corner—for privacy? Azmir wasn’t alone. He was with Brett and Shayna. Azmir wore a lavender dress shirt and his smoke gray suit jacket hung on the back of his chair. He looked tired, but delicious. That man totally did it for me no matter what he was wearing. My awareness of his heart-stopping Adonis revved up my competitive gene several notches, reminding me of my mission.
I started my amble over to their table, and just when I was a few mere feet away he sensed my presence and gazed over to the exact vicinity until his eyes landed on me.
Let the games begin.
I slanted my concealed droopy eyes and pouted my otherwise pale lips—thanks to my bug. I could tell he was completely surprised by my impromptu visit. Good…now we’re even!
When I approached the table, he didn’t rise as he typically would. But he did breathe, “Ms. Brimm?” as if I was the woman of his wet dreams.
Brett looked up and Shayna, who sat across from Brett at the table that seated four, turned around to see what caught the guys’ attention. A wave of relief settled upon me seeing that this wasn’t an intimate meeting between Azmir and Dawn Taylor.
I stood, smiling softly while clasping my clutch in front of my pelvic area. I didn’t know my next move. The perpetrator was nowhere in sight. Obscurity had descending over me. This so wasn’t what I’d expected to walk into.
“Hi, Rayna!” Brett sang with gleam in his eyes, furthering my guilt.
He appeared genuinely happy to see me while I, on the other hand, was on a Destroy Dawn mission. I often wondered about Brett’s thoughts of Azmir and me. He knew so many personal details of our relationship because he was usually the one arranging them.
“Afternoon, Brett,” I greeted softly.
“Wow! I see that you’re feeling better. You look great,” Brett observed, without making the words sound inappropriate. I took it as though he appreciated my efforts. Now, let’s see if Azmir does, too.
“Thanks, Brett. I’m feeling much better. I’ve had wonderful medical attention.”
I vaguely flirted with Azmir, who I had now locked eyes with. He had been gaping at me the whole time, now it was my turn to return the attention.
“I was coming to show my gratitude by surprising a special someone for a lunch outing, but I see he’s indisposed.”
My eyes never left Azmir’s as our gazes danced with each other in search of answers; mine of his meeting with Dawn and Shayna, and his of me leaving my sick bed for a surprise visit. I then noticed Azmir’s eyes slowly transitioning past me. Instinctively, I turned, only to find Dawn standing there, sharing a similar reaction to my company as the rest of the party.
We locked eyes for what seemed like minutes. I even shifted in stance, hoping to grant her a better view of my person, silently communicating marked territory until I heard Azmir calmly chime in, “Ms. Brimm, you remember Dawn Taylor, don’t you?”
With a slight squinting of my eyes and wrinkling of my forehead—that should have garnered an Emmy—I finally say, “Vegas?”
Knowing full well I’d just encountered her only three short days ago. I didn’t care, I was playing hardball. I was still confused by my drive to do so with Dawn Taylor, but I certainly acted conscious-free as I continued to peer straight into her masking eyes.
“Rag and Bone,” she acknowledged approvingly, referring to the designer of my blazer.
Oh! So you are about your diva!
“Pigalle 120s,” I replied, referencing her Louboutin patent leather pumps as if I didn’t start wearing the designer in recent months when Azmir flooded my closet with them.
I knew those because I had them in leather and made a mental note that if I’d ever wore patent leather shoes they would have to be LouBou’s. They went well with her form fitted, plaid midi dress. Her hair was in the bouncy curls I’d seen in Las Vegas, framing her ebony face. She looked good!
She didn’t greet me beyond that, and just like in Vegas, I followed suit, turning my attention back to Azmir who’s eyes were alert, but his expression was otherwise inscrutable. He just sat there with his elbows resting on the table and hands clasped together near his chin, calmed and self-possessed. Always.
“Did I miss something while in the restroom?” Dawn asked in a slick manner.
The smirk she wore as she took her seat back at the table—directly across from Amir! So that you can get a clear view, huhn!—confirmed my feelings regarding her mask. She flashed a cunning smile over to Shayna who, for some strange reason, I could tell didn’t share Dawn’s sinister persona.
“Oh…oh, nothing at all. We basically reiterated the cons of the proposal and agreed on the need of a follow-up date for answers and solutions,” Shayna shakily mumbled to Dawn. Brett obliviously nodded his head.
“Ah, yes! And we hope that date won’t be projected,” Dawn spoke suggestively, flashing that stealthy smile over to Azmir. I wanted to choke her.
My attention returned to Azmir when he spoke. “Brett, did you not send my weekly schedule to Sharon?” he asked while searching my eyes, inadvertently making it clear to me that he was not committed to their conversation.
Crap! What the…!
“Uhhh…” Brett stalled while typing on his iPad. The girls looked over to Brett, trying to figure out what was going on with the question. “Yes, sir. First thing this morning, sir.”
Crap! Crap! Crap!
Then Azmir smiled at me, but not with his mouth, with his eyes. “Uh-huh. Well, we’ll need to see to it that Sharon forwards them in a more timely manner, now don’t we?”
He didn’t force me to lie and say that Sharon hadn’t forwarded me the itinerary yet—and boy, was I grateful for that pass! He knew my pop-up visit was motivated by a surreptitious agenda.
“Ladies, we’re just about done here, aren’t we?” Azmir spoke to the table, but without his gaze leaving my face. His thumbs wrestled each other as his long fingers were intermingled contemplatively. Through my peripheral I could see all eyes on us. “I was just tell
ing Brett before lunch to clear my schedule for the rest of the day. I have lots of preparations to complete before my departure tomorrow.”
For some strange reason, at that announcement, my attention turned to the table. Shayna’s eyes shot nervously over to Dawn as she sat up in her chair.
“Uhhhhh…ummmm, yeah!” Shayna fumbled over her words as she looked over to Dawn for guidance. She was stalling for her girlfriend, demonstrating that she knew her friend was after Azmir.
It was now known that Azmir was contemplating leaving soon. So, I shifted in my stance again, causing my blazer to open, exposing my spandex clad figure in the cat-suit.
I could play dirty with the best of them. For Azmir.
I saw Brett turn beet red and Azmir’s smile descended from eyes down to his beautifully sculptured, luscious lips. My libido had just returned.
“Okay, we have the dates and a preliminary agenda. Brett will be sure to do the follow-up. We’ll be in touch, ladies. This looks great,” Azmir instructed at an even pace, clearly preoccupied, as he pulled his jacket off the back of his chair, draping it over his arm before standing.
He rose from his chair that way and shook hands with everyone before rounding the table. It appeared rather odd. What was even more overt was how Dawn expected a different type of parting expression from him. Her face fell into a disappointed puckered brow.
He kept her at arm’s length as he traveled over to me and muttered, “I’ll just grab my things from upstairs and meet you in the car or you can come with me.”
Before I could answer, I heard Dawn call out, “Mr. Jacobs, a word, if you don’t mind.”
A word? For what?
I could have decked her. I gave Azmir a slight nod, excusing him, though I genuinely wasn’t feeling that diplomatic. He walked back over to her and I noticed the cat that ate the canary smirk that she bore as he approached her. She had twenty seconds of my patience or we were going to have scene in the middle of Azmir’s cafeteria. I couldn’t hear what she said, but I could tell that Azmir wasn’t as involved in the exchange as she was and that she was trying to buy time.