Love Lost (Love's Improbable Possibility)

by Belvin, Love

  “All done,” I announced prepared to end this awkward shared experience.

  All the way downstairs Britni tried to employ him in conversation. Azmir entertained it to a minimum but even through my tipsy haze, I could tell he wasn’t interested in her. He pulled out that gold pocket watch to check the time. He seemed a little bewildered. I was curious as to why but wouldn’t dare ask. I had to remember he was a business associate no matter how fine he was. After we got off the elevator, Britni and I thanked Azmir before splitting up.

  He gave Britni a cursory glance, then swayed his gaze to me and with slanted eyes he said, “Any time. Let’s make sure this wasn’t the last.”

  I didn’t know what to say, I could only gush a new shade of honey.

  The next time I saw him that evening he was leaving with an entourage. Michelle and I wondered which one of the women in the group was his. It was hard to tell since he wasn’t holding hands or talking to any woman with that “we’re together” chemistry. I just thought to myself, “Oh well, he was good to look at.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Azmir

  It was Friday night and I was leaving a video shoot for a friend of mine who’s a rapper. I never liked playing the groupie role, hanging out at a video shoot but my boy asked me to cameo a few scenes. I’ve done it before although I never understood why I’d been invited to. The general public doesn’t know me. I have a quite a few friends in the entertainment social circle but I wasn’t exactly in the entertainment business. I try to indulge when they ask because I know my goons are really big on that scene.

  As we were pulling out, I got a call from Tara reminding me that we’re meeting at Cobalt tonight. Her cousin Danielle and Danielle’s fiancé were visiting and she wanted to show them around. Translation: she wanted to show off. I played along and gave no resistance. What I did was simply invite Petey along with his wife and my boy, Kid, and his ghetto ass girlfriend, Syn; Tara hates these friends. She would’ve much preferred my polished friends like Mark and Eric. Now, they are my boys but this was strategic. I was trying to shake Tara and didn’t care if that meant her leaving me first. The goons and I split up to get ready for the evening. As I was home trying to get myself together Tara called.

  “Hey! What time are you picking me up?”

  “I don’t think I’m going to have time for all of that. Plus, I have to be somewhere tonight after we leave…” My excuse was actually a legitimate reason; I did have plans for after Cobalt. But it was a convenient reason.

  “What do you mean you don’t have time? And where do you have to be afterwards, baby? I was hoping we could have a nightcap at The London West Hollywood after.” Tara used her dearest tone that let me know she was in someone’s presence and didn’t want to let on to how upset she was that I wasn’t going along with her plans.

  “I have a thing and have to be out at about midnight. Again, I’m going to have to meet you guys there,” I exhaled into the phone totally blowing her the fuck off. She paused for a minute and I cleared my throat letting her know that I had to go. She was powerless because she didn’t want to embarrass herself and had to let it ride.

  I arrived at the club a little after 11PM. The place looked pretty busy, which was good. I most definitely wasn’t in managerial mode, but whether I like it or not I’m the boss so it’s difficult for me to relax. There would definitely be no relaxing with Tara’s ass around. As I walked in through the rear, I greeted everyone before retreating to put away my things and retrieve messages.

  Bracing myself, I meandered back downstairs to greet my guests. Petey, Kid and their women had already arrived and I could tell Tara wasn’t happy by first glance. Ghetto ass Syn was snapping her fingers and bobbing her head to the music. She was just happy to be out among people with class. My boys were doing what they always do when they’re out with their women; they just scan the room. It has a lot to do with their nature. They’re always on guard for trouble. It didn’t matter that Cobalt didn’t attract their kind of trouble. If it were up to them, they wouldn’t choose a venue like this to socialize. Petey knew why they were invited and I’m sure he informed Kid.

  “What up, Black People!” I chanted as I approached the table.

  I gave Danielle’s fiancé, Steve, some dap, shook Danielle’s hand, gave Petey and Kid some love and said hello to their ladies. I sat down next to Tara and said hello. I know she’s much preferred a kiss but it wasn’t happening.

  “So, I see congratulations are in order for you, Azmir! This place is jumping!” Danielle remarked.

  “Yeah, this is one of the latest projects. I’m a little nervous although my people tell me it’s off and running way past the trial stage,” I responded over the music.

  “Yes, I was just telling Tara the atmosphere is totally different from the club outside of Inglewood. Both are nice though. They’re both really live and energized but this one is trendier,” Steve offered.

  “Well, this one was intended to appeal to a different demographic. It’s more commercial; you know, colorless and cultured. Depending on the success of Cobalt, we’re considering opening up one more on Sunset Blvd. I try to build establishments that appeal to the different facets of me…who I am,” I said.

  “That’s interesting. What do you mean different facets?” Danielle inquired with furrowed eyebrows. She was a talkative one and was never short of an informative conversation.

  “We’re all, or at least should all be, comprised of more than one component. That’s actually the secret to my success, if I may. I wear many faces, particularly two. One face is urban, street-like, underground, you know…ethnic. The other is corporate, cultured, mainstream, traditional business, etcetera. The common denominator is a hustler’s spirit—hunger, commerce-minded, paper chasing, and trend setting. Many people can’t respect that. There are times that I’ve passed up opportunities because associates tried to get into my head by wanting me to say I was one over the other.” My eyes jotted over to Tara. I knew I was wilding the fuck out but kept going.

  “People aren’t comfortable when they can’t figure you out. I have my corporate contemporaries wanting me to explain my relationships with well-known rappers and rebellious athletes. And on the other hand, I have my goons from the streets wanting to test my chin assuming I’ve gone Hollywood. It’s tough. The true challenge is maintaining who you are while not allowing those around you to classify you or question your essence,” I continued.

  “Well Az, which hat are you most comfortable wearing?” Danielle asked entranced. I knew she loved this type of analytical exchange.

  “Which ever hat is going to win me a dollar in that opportunity. I’m a hustler, baby.” There was a pause at the booth as Danielle and Steve looked at each other approving what they could quickly process of my summary.

  Petey broke it by saying, “I hear dat, Divine and on dat note Im’ma get sum‘in’ wet from the bar. You want sum‘in’, Ma?” he called out to his wife, Kim.

  Thinking a break from the tense energy at the table sounded appealing I rose from the table. “I’m with you, Crack. You want something?” I asked Tara. She rolled her eyes and shook her head no. She knew that was a subliminal message for her. As slow as this process was, she was getting the hint. She knew the end of the relationship was nigh.

  We walked over to the bar and I felt gentle nudging at my arm. “Mr. Jacobs! I was wondering if I’d see you here tonight! I’m Michelle Smith from—” I interrupted her.

  “…Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine. I recall.” Michelle’s eyes were bright with unadulterated enthusiasm. I could tell she maintained good energy from her well-applied smile. “Yes, I’m out tonight. Good to see you patronizing the place. You’re not here alone are you?” I vividly remembered her because of the dame that gave the presentation that day at the rec. I knew it was a long shot but I had to ask.

  “Oh, no! I’m here with some friends…a few from school and…oh, Rayna! You remember Rayna Brimm the one that gave you the proposal that d
ay?”

  I felt a chill cross my shoulders. Oh, shit! That had never happened to me before. I don’t even know this broad and I’m getting this excited?

  Almost as if she had known, Michelle grabbed my arm and damn near pulled me over to their V.I.P. booth. I could tell she’d been drinking. Her demeanor that night was a far cry from the woman I’d met in my boardroom. It was cool though. I let her lead me up to one of the V.I.P. booths where I assumed her friend, Rayna, was. I fought the anticipation that was building with each step I took.

  She introduced me to her friends…and there she was, still as lovely as ever!

  We exchanged a few words and I left. I had to remember I had people waiting on me because I could easily stare at her all night. I found my way back to the bar and Petey was still there waiting for me. I gave him the 411 on old girl. He couldn’t get a close up on her but remembered her from the dancing she did a few weeks back there at the club. We took our drinks back to the booth.

  There was a performance by a newcomer on the R&B scene. I’d asked my manager here at Cobalt to book him as a favor for a producer friend of mine. After hearing his performance and seeing the crowd’s reaction. I textedmy boy:YOU GOT THIS ONE. I NOW OWE YOU. He textedme back saying,YES, SIIIIIIIR!

  A little while later the manager, Bobby, came up to tell me my signature was needed for a few orders he was placing the following day so I went upstairs to the offices. On my way back down I saw Ms. Brimm with one of her friends waiting for the ladies room. That’s when I realized there was something about her aura that I found undeniably attractive. Her humility was captivating. I could tell she didn’t like a lot of attention, almost a little bashful even. I offered them the bathroom in my office and her girl quickly said yes but Brimm was a little hesitant.

  We went upstairs and while her girl was in the bathroom, I tried to spark up a little conversation. What I really wanted to know was how soon she would be at my fingertips so I asked her. Again she seemed a little shy but I remained inquisitive. Tara called from downstairs asking what the holdup was. I told her I’d be down in a minute trying to get her off the damn phone.

  When her friend came out of the bathroom Brimm flew in like she was about to piss her pants or something. We returned downstairs and I was mad as hell, I didn’t feel like I accomplished anything with her. I didn’t even understand why that bothered me. I can’t remember the last time I was on the chase.

  A while after coming back to the table Petey received a call that our man, Two-Times, had been rushed to the hospital. We hauled ass out of the club to go and see about him. I parted ways with Tara and her peoples outside of Cobalt. Kid asked if Kim could drop Syn off at home while he and Petey stayed with me. Kid drove Petey and me while they made phone calls trying to learn what had happened.

  As it turned out a couple of little ass, wanna-be-gangsters were on one of my blocks trying to make a name for themselves by stealing a corner and shot Two-Times. I hated when situations like this occurred because retaliation was difficult considering the perpetrators. These were kids—kids that needed to be dealt with no less—but kids. They were at the age where they’re feeling themselves and wanted to take over some of the blocks I owned. We were supposed to be meeting about addressing this very issue later on that night. I don’t believe in killing kids. In fact, I’ve been developing and funding programs for fucking punks like this.

  According to the report Petey got over the phone, the kid was about sixteen or seventeen years old. In my private thoughts I screamed, “I can’t take this shit no more. I gotta get outta these streets!” I had to keep those thoughts to myself. After all, I was a boss and was looked to for leadership and direction. Two-Times was around my age—thirty-seven years old and had a girl and a few kids. He’s been on staff for almost a decade and was a block general so I had to check up on duke myself. He got his name from not being afraid to shoot at one-time, also known as the police.

  After going to the hospital to check up on my man and making sure I got in touch with his family, I went to Marina Del Rey, my safe haven. I needed to clear my head.

  What a fucking night.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  Rayna

  Well into the New Year, I’d starting looking for a house diligently. I decided at the end of the previous year that it was time to acquire a piece of property. One afternoon I’d taken all of my real estate books with me over to the cafeteria at the recreation center next door. I was there finishing a chicken Caesar salad and looking over available properties in the L.A. and Orange County areas when someone in a very familiar tone said, “House shopping, are we?”

  I looked up to find Mr. Azmir Jacobs flashing the sexiest smirk I’d ever seen. It immediately spoke to my libido and I felt my valley bellow tighten reflexively. My mouth grew dry as I assessed his person. He stood tall and masculine in a very handsome, well-tailored, grey suit with a lavender shirt and matching tie. His hair was freshly cut low as always and once again I noticed his scent. I knew I’d smelled it somewhere before but couldn’t place it because it smelled different on him, enthralling.

  I forced a smile and tried to hide my disarray, “Something like that.”

  Shit. I quickly used my tongue to brush over my teeth desperately praying there were no debris from my lunch in my smile.

  “You’re saying we but the only person here with a book in their hands looking is me.”

  He gave a chuckle and the sight of him leaning over my table with one hand in his pocket and the other hand he used the tips of his long fingers to lean on was delicious. He was so damn sexy; I felt heated blood coursing through my veins.

  “Where are you looking?”

  Calm down, Rayna. Be cool.

  “Anywhere I can afford. Of course, I need to limit my options to this vicinity. I don’t want to have to travel more than an hour in L.A. traffic.”

  That a girl!

  “There are beautiful homes in Naples, Signal Hill, and Seal Beach. Or do you live near here already?”

  “Is that where you live?” I quizzed.

  “I travel more than an hour to get to work each day.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “What question?” His slightly furrowed eyebrows appeared simultaneously with a gentle smirk, a panty-snatching smirk.

  “I asked if you lived in Naples, Signal Hill, or Seal Beach but you didn’t answer.”

  “I didn’t answer because I asked where you live and you didn’t answer. Why should I tell you where I live if you don’t want to tell me where you live? This is a dangerous city. How do I know you won’t come and violate me?”

  He shot off a line that I used often!

  Azmir flashed a smile, a coochie-creaming smile, the most disarming that I’d ever encountered. His teeth weren’t chalk white but they were damn near that and perfectly aligned. I blushed inwardly. He was right. I always avoided telling men where I lived.

  “Ummmm…you’re right. I live in Glendale. And you?” I asked acerbically in defeat.

  “That’s funny. I use to live next door in Pasadena. We were practically neighbors. How long have you been there?”

  I noticed right away that Azmir’s words were measured and his voice was controlled. He was deliberate in speech and delivery. His calculated tête-à-tête, though intimidating, kept me on my toes.

  “For a couple of years now. How about you?” I asked, not missing how he still hadn’t shared where he resided.

  “I bought the place about ten years or so ago. I was thinking about moving to Glendale but now that you’re leaving I’ve changed my mind.” He was flirting. That was a blatant flirt that caught me clear off guard. He didn’t even blink while speaking, his eyes settled on me with a searing gaze that a predator used to lure its prey. I glanced around to see who was looking or listening, but no one had been.

  “Do you flirt with all of your associates like this? Or—don’t tell me—I’m a special exception, right?” My eyes squinted at him to caution his ch
arm. I didn’t want him to know how magnetic it was, I couldn’t.

  “Only the ones that I want to take out and get to know. Tell me, Ms. Brimm, are you dating someone?”

  My breath hitched, I was so green and enraptured by his authoritative and enchanting mien, I didn’t know what to do. I’d been approached by a fair number of men in my life, but this man was different. He had this quality that was unlike anything I’d ever been up against.

  Virile dominance radiated from his head that would occasionally cock to the side bringing my attention to the way his tongue pressed back into his molars telling of exercised patience. His broad shoulders caped in designer vesture, his long and coordinated fingers that flickered indiscriminately as if they communicated fleeting self-control or unspoken desire. The width of the space between his thighs as his extended legs supported his long commanding frame revealed his confident stance. And his buffed oxfords that told of a man on a cosmopolitan journey. I was instantly smitten by him.

  “What are you asking? Let’s be clear here.” I gave a fixed “matter of fact” tone that did not include a smile on my face.

  He smirked as if he was impressed…or well entertained.

  “What are you doing Saturday night?”

  “I have class on Saturday.” Something that didn’t typically occur and I suddenly regretted the inconvenience.

  “How about Friday?” he tried again.

  “I’m taking my girlfriend out for her birthday.”

  He sighed so sexily with a hint of a smirk and I felt the coolness of his breath hitting my face making my belly clench.

  “You’re killing me.” His tone was low and husky. My nipples hardened at his despair. It was so unintentionally seductive, beguiling.