by Belvin, Love
Detective Harrison stands and gathers his jacket as he’s prepared to leave.
My turn.
I bring my hand to my nose and snicker.
“You find something funny, young lady?” Harrison’s tone was extremely intimidating, but I wouldn’t give in.
“Yes. You’re far less impressive than Azmir describes you.”
He jolts his head back as to demand an explanation.
“Well, you’re very melodramatic. What man your age comes into a woman’s—virtually your daughter’s age—place of business, interfering in their daughter’s love life? Then you flash my receptionist you’re title to get back here. That must be misuse of your limited authority.” Now it’s Harrison’s turn to raise a brow. “Yes, limited. I’ve done nothing wrong. You’re investigating me, and quite inconclusively might I add. You have some nerve,” I end as he casually brushes past me towards the door.
With a grimacing expression he vows, “They’ll be married within a year. A year! And you…you’ll be left with the designer shoes he bought you and fucked you in your appreciation of.” He gives me that slick and wicked grin again, attempting to call my bluff. He goes for the door handle and retorts, “Sweetheart, you have seventy-two hours to take me up on my offer.” Another dramatic pause. “If you should choose not to, thinking I’m a fucking joke, tell Divine about our little chat today and get his take on my detailed investigation,” he murmurs too close to my ear before exiting the room and closing the door behind him.
I stood suspended in the same position for nearly ten minutes until I was paged over the inter-office P.A. system. I was trying to make sense of Detective Harrison’s surprise visit. I still felt the lingering his disgusting gritty presence in the air. That man was cunning, but I had a strong suspicion that he was also desperate.
Once the sessions with my afternoon clients were complete, I sat in my office finishing up charts, but struggled with keeping my focus from running over to the various things that Harrison said.
They’ll be married within a year…a year! I heard the echoes of his sentimentalities loud in my head.
Is that true? Azmir never gave me the impression that he had flights of fantasies to marry Tara. He told me she wasn’t suited for that level of commitment. Well, those were things he told me. How true it was, only he knew. But why would he lie?
Then he begged me to move in with him. To my knowledge and by way of his own admittance, they never lived together. And speaking of which, Harrison said that he had reports of Azmir’s car being parked at my place nights at a time. When he’s not being chauffeured by Ray, Azmir drives his Jeep Wrangler or his Range Rover. Rarely does he drives his cars. Which car is Harrison referring to?
Then it hit me like a ton of bricks: Harrison is not very much in touch with Azmir! First of all, he’s never spent nights at a time at my place. Secondly, I’ve been living with Azmir for nearly two months now and sleeping next to him every night unless he’s out of town on business. Yazmine is staying at my place and doesn’t have a car similar to any of Azmir’s. Harrison lied by manipulation.
My thoughts were interrupted by the office phone ringing.
“Hello?”
“That’s what I thought I’d hear say to you at least two hours ago. Where are you, little girl?” Azmir’s silky voice flowed through the phone, stammering my heart.
“Eh…hey, you,” I mustered as I looked for the time. It was nearly eight p.m. Geesh! Did I really let the time get that ahead of me?
“Are you coming home, Ms. Brimm? I wasn’t aware of you having church service this evening.” He was expecting an explanation.
I closed my eyes and took a long exhale. With as much confusion as this man has caused today, it was nice to be sought after by him. “Azmir, I’m sorry. I let time escape me. I’ve been working on my charts, trying to clean them up since I’ll be away for a week. I didn’t want to get behind.” This was partially true.
“Your dinner is getting cold,” Azmir said softly. Focus, Rayna…focus! Though he didn’t intend to, the tone of his voice spoke to my libido.
“Well, what doesn’t get done by eight twenty, won’t get done until I return. I’ll be there soon.”
“If I call there at eight thirty and get you, don’t bother driving. I’ll have Ray bring me to get you. I mean it,” he threatened.
“Deal,” I agreed, relieved he couldn’t see my face heating up.
And we disconnect.
After being snapped out of my trance, I looked down at my progress on the charts. Only two more to knock out and then I can leave with a cleared desk. I completed them and then headed over to the marina.
I couldn’t shake my conversation with Harrison on my drive. So many things he said just didn’t add up. Even over dinner I couldn’t escape the echoes of his voice. He was creepy. What was even more upsetting is that Azmir could tell something was going on.
“You’ve barely touched your steak. Boyd would be offended,” Azmir phished for my thoughts.
“The filet mignon is really good. And the béarnaise sauce sends it over the moon. I’m just really exhausted. I didn’t plan on working as late as I did. And I still have more packing to do.”
His intense gaze told me he didn’t buy my story, but I wasn’t ready to divulge the truth quite yet. I just wanted to finish up my packing and go to bed.
“What time should I be ready in the morning, again?”
“We ascend at seven sharp, so we should leave at six fifteen,” he replied, maintaining the interrogative gaze. Even that was sexy as all get. My goodness! Is this man even capable of making an ugly face?
I dismissed myself, saying that I needed to finish packing. He rose from the table with me, as he always does, being polite. I knew he was burning a hole in my back with his gawking, but I had to keep a straight face until I was out of his presence.
As I packed, I wondered why was I even going on this trip. If Azmir’s heart wasn’t totally with me or our relationship why should I go through the motions of vacationing with him? Was he really just out sewing his oats with me when his heart had actually belonged to Tara? Also, if Harrison knew about my past he could easily call my bluff and tell Azmir. I didn’t like the idea of that creep having privy to my past that not even Azmir had. For heaven’s sake, he described Azmir as some helpless puppet under his control. That stung my conscience. If Azmir found out about Akeem from a source other than me that could be devastating to our friendship.
Once done packing, I decided to do the only thing I could think of. I retreated to the shower and prayed. I prayed in silence, hard and long. I’m sure I was repetitive, but I wanted my requests clear and known. When I stepped out I had resolved to telling Azmir a piece of my past.
As I walked back into the bedroom, I saw Azmir lying in bed with his perfectly sculpted chest wondrously bare, watching ESPN, one of his favorite pastimes. I eased over to the bed, pulled back the cover and glided in.
He looked at me, this time more relaxed in his gaze and asked, “You good?”
I thought about his question for a few. Then I finally found the courage to say, “No.”
The next thing I heard was flicking from the television being shut off. That was apt. Azmir looked over to me, giving me his undivided attention. He murmured, “Pocket watch.”
It’s now or never, Rayna.
Action!
“Azmir…playing spades with the cards up…all trust.” I gulped in air as I was sitting on my legs, facing him in the bed. 5-4-3-2-1. “I have a brother, just a few months older than me, who’s incarcerated back in Jersey for murder. I don’t want to discuss the details right now, but I can say that I’ve been paying his attorney fees for quite a few years now. We’ve been pursuing an appeal.” I ended there, unable to think of anything more to disclose.
He lowered his gaze to the comforter on the bed, I’m sure confused and definitely taken by surprise. Say something, Azmir! Please! I don’t know what I was expecting him to say. I certainly did
n’t think he’d go berserk, but I anxiously awaited a reaction.
“Do you need money to help with the attorney fees?”
What? “No. God, no!” I was taken aback.
“Sounds like you need a new lawyer. Is that what you’re asking for?” he ask, clearly bemused.
Seriously?
“Azmir, I don’t need anything from you…just for you to know. That is a huge part of my life that I keep extremely private. You’re only the second person who knows.” I was at a loss for words.
“Is that why you visit Jersey?”
“Yes. To see Akeem and replenish his commissary.”
“Only him?”
“Oh, God…yes! Only my brother.”
“Is that the reason for such short trips?” He’s catching on, attempting to make sense of the bomb I just dropped on him.
Is he asking if I had some type of jump-off back there?
“Yes. The trip last summer, when you came out, was the first for something other than him. I’d learned my father had passed and my sister asked for me, something she’s never done. And I went to see about her and my grandparents, again, something I’ve not done since leaving.” The lids to my eyes collapsed as I recalled the horrific event. I hated talking about anything relating to home or my past. “And for some odd reason, I went to check on my mother: another first for me, too. Had to visit old demons, so to speak,” I said that last line with a forlorn giggle in an effort to disarm his doubts of my odd story.
“I’m sorry to hear about your loss,” he murmured before a long pause. Then, “I didn’t know you had an older brother…didn’t know you had a sister until I found you out in Jersey.”
“I know…because I don’t discuss them. And I’m still not ready to.” I looked him in his eyes as a way if asking permission to re-seal my box of secrets for that moment. His ruminative expression tugged at my heart. He grew silent.
“Azmir, say something,” I murmured.
“I’m not sure what to say. You’ve made it clear that you don’t care to discuss more than you have. So I have to make do with what you’ve given.” He then shifted towards me, “Rayna, is there something detrimental, illegal, life threatening—or anything of that nature in your past that I should know of? Remember, we’re playing spade with the cards up…all trust.”
My heart rate increased as I pondered his question. Death maybe, but not in a present tense. Ummmmmmm…
“No.”
He gave me a deep, intense, and purposely emphasized gaze into my eyes. I swear I started to perspire where I sat. He was intentionally intimidating me…sending a message to my conscience. I now have an idea of what his staff experiences under his tutelage.
Here we go.
“No,” I repeat.
“Then go to bed. We have to be up bright and early.” Azmir exited the bed.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of what could possibly be going through his mind. I knew he was in his office, his favorite room in the house. He spent more time in there than he did even in his bedroom. The man functioned on very little sleep. Oddly enough, he’d been sleeping increasingly more since I’d moved in. He had gone from nearly four hours to five and half hours nightly. That was progress in my book.
My stream of thoughts carried over into my dreams. I didn’t know if I were sleep or awake until a little after two in the morning when I turned over to no Azmir. I sat up on my arms and didn’t even see Azna in the bed. That alarmed me. Was he upset with me? My conscience told me that if the shoe were on the other foot I’d be pissed with him, so be fair. I got up to see if he had fallen asleep at his desk. In my foggy state, I tip-toed down the long corridor where I could see a light glaring from his office. Yup, he’s there. When I looked in the room I saw him there on the phone and looking on the desktop. He noticed me right away.
“Hang on, Washington.” He turned the mouthpiece of the phone down in his neck and asked, “Everything okay?” with a look of concern.
“Errr…yeah. Just a little odd waking up at two twenty-two in the morning to an empty bed.” He looked up at the clock and seemingly realized the time.
“Now you know the feeling,” he said with a forlorn smile, referring to my working late a few hours before. “Where’s Azna?”
Azmir pushed against the wheels of his chair to scoot away from the desk. And although he was too far away for me to see, he pointed to his lap to answer my question.
Hmmmmmm…
“So it’s a man’s world?” I said in jest.
He flashed that panty-snatching smirk. The currents flashed through my body. My smile disappeared and I suddenly feel guilty and desirous at the same time. After the bomb I laid on his lap earlier, he still has the capacity to smile.
I pace over to him on a mission. His eyes never leaving mine and once I arrive to him, I bend over and kiss his soft lips. I couldn’t stop there. I wanted to taste his lips and I did. I sucked softly as I held the sides of his face. Reluctantly, I slowly let go of his bottom lip. When I opened my eyes I see his, though filled with priapic readiness, were open. I wanted him so bad, but under the circumstances knew not to push my luck. I decided to collect Azna and return to bed. But as I went to scoop her, I accidentally rubbed against his strong erection. Subconsciously my eyes shot up to him. The cool air hitting my gums from the strong release of his lungs told me my mouth was open. Azmir’s eyes were heavy with need. Does he want to it take there as much I do? His body was telling.
“Go back to bed. We have to be up in less than four hours. I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, trying to gain control of the situation.
With a broken ego, I obey and return to bed. It took a minute or two for me to doze back off because I had to ignore the throbbing between my legs. I accepted it as punishment for my delayed disclosure.
What a day.
Chapter 8
Rayna
Several hours later, we were pulling into a large lot that I would soon learn is an airport in Hawthorne and that Azmir chartered a private plane for our trip. Ray retrieved our luggage from the car and Azmir assisted until airport staff came over to take them from him.
“Mr. Jacobs! It’s a pleasure to see you this morning. Ms. Brimm, this way,” he looked at me with a huge, welcoming, and professional smile. I returned the gesture.
“Jim,” Azmir greeted in return then held the small of my back to point me in the direction that Jim was leading. He looked preoccupied, but I didn’t know how to address it. So I didn’t. Azmir was wearing denim jeans with a graphic T and track jacket. I had on a maxi dress with a cropped jean jacket and a scarf draped over my shoulders. I wasn’t sure of what to wear, as I still had no clue of where we were going.
We immediately boarded and were introduced to our aircraft staff that included a waitress who I could immediately tell was taken by Azmir. This happened often and I never tripped. There were times he caught on to his admirers as well and was embarrassed, but today he was so internally engrossed that he never took notice. My heart sunk.
The airliner was sophisticated. Too rich for my blood. I’d never flown on a private plane before. It made me wonder how often had Azmir. The plush ivory leather seats and benches were oversized for comfort. They were very fitting for a man of Azmir’s height and frame. The carpet was a rich tan shade, giving off a pristine feel of the luxury aircraft. This thing was huge and could fit over a dozen people. In the center of the cargo area was a forty-two inch flat screen television. To the left of the television area was a workstation with a desk and phone. At the far opposite end was another television mounted on the wall, only smaller. Who needs all of this?
I turn to the man who arranged it. Azmir’s sullen disposition had me afraid to talk to him. I just didn’t know what to say. Through my peripheral, I observed him as he sat back and adjusted himself in his chair.
The captain announced himself on the P.A. system, gave our expected arrival time and the temperature of our destination. I quickly did the math
and estimated an eight hour flight. Coincidentally, the captain announced an eight hour travel time mere seconds later. Crap! My suspense was on overdrive. Where are we going? He addressed us by name, making it difficult to forget we were on a private plane. I was thoroughly impressed. Azmir seemed indifferent and more concerned with getting some shut eye.
Catina, the flight attendant, came over and handed us menus. I was surprised to see there were exclusively breakfast items listed. Suddenly, I felt Azmir’s hand on my right thigh, patting it gently. Without looking at me he says, “We’re in for a long flight, so get comfy. Order when you’re hungry. I’m gonna catch a few Zs. Order something for me when you’re ready. Surprise me,” he gave an adorable yawn before turning over and falling asleep.
The flight was long and provided too much time for my muddling thoughts of Harrison’s visit from the day before. He mentioned my presence causing a rift in his family. As I sit reclined next to this…Adonis of a man, I couldn’t help but to wonder where exactly I stood in his stratosphere. I mean, I’ve moved in and now what? We cohabitate until we grow tired of each other? Will he get bored with me? Then, I think of Azmir’s possible proposal. If that’s, in fact, what he was contemplating, he sure hasn’t produced anything—not that I’m terribly disappointed because I’m not sure if I’m any more suited for marriage than Azmir believed Tara was. But when I thought of him being with someone else, making love to them, singing their name in ecstasy, calling on them to come home at night after work, flying them on private planes like he is with me right now…I felt sick.
Oh, I just don’t know!
One thing that I could empathize with was the loss of Harrison’s wife. Tara’s baby came at such an awkward time, and the paternity issue must take things to another level. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to do. One thing was for sure, if Harrison’s objective for coming to see me was to get inside my head he had succeeded. What if Azmir wasn’t mine after all? What if I was simply the “in the meantime” chick? I felt an insurmountable sense of anxiety coming over me. My heart rate increased, mouth went dry and I felt wet everywhere. Panic began setting in. I felt my body jerking. What is this!