Love Lost (Love's Improbable Possibility) (11 page)

“Okay…” I bit out trying to gain a hold of my speeding brain.

“You should say more than okay, Ray. Unfortunately, it’s either sink or swim here. This is a strategic way of getting you out of their hair without firing you, which would be blacklisting in terms of your career! Can you handle this?” she trilled loudly in my ear, I’m sure in an effort of waking me from my trance.

“Yes. I guess I hav
e no other choice in the matter,” I mumbled.

“Okay well, we have to get shaking on this very soon. Let’s plan to meet tomorrow to discuss strategy
,” Michelle sounded resolute. I, on the other hand, was taking part in a pity party. I couldn’t believe the highs and lows of the past two days of my life.

“Okay. My place…let’s say 6’ish?” I proposed
noncommittally.

“Sounds good to me. Let me call to see if I have a sitter for Erin. You’ll be fine, girl!” she tried with enthusiasm.

Here was another night I couldn’t sleep. I had to save my career. I’d be damned if I was going to let this man ruin what I’ve worked so hard for because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants
. If he thinks I’m that disposable he’s got the game so twisted!

It was nearly ten at night when I jumped from my sofa and headed over to Long Beach City to the recreation center. By the time I got there
, it was thankfully still open so I ambled inside and pretended to be interested in a membership in hopes of getting a tour. As I walked through the automated sliding doors, I got the attention of a young man who seemed to be an employee. He was about five feet three inches with brown skin and a mini afro.

He walked over and greeted me, “Welcome to Optimal Health Recreation Center. How may I help you?” His tone was very warm and his bright eyes inviting.

“Hello. I’ve been looking for a gym to join and I’ve been referred here by several people. I thought I’d come and see what that rave was about. Would it be okay if I took a look around?” I smiled appealingly.

“That would be fine by me. How about I show you around
?” He maintained his eager smile.

“I’d like that.”

The young brother was extremely professional and well versed on the amenities of the center. This place was even better than Michelle had described it. There were flat screen televisions throughout each corridor, pictures of professional athletes—headshots as well as candid photos of them in the recreation center. Soundproof glass rooms, waiters and waitresses around and alert to serve water and energy drinks at the patrons’ requests, health tips announced periodically on the P. A. system, all staff members greeted me and were extremely polite. The women’s locker rooms and bathrooms were impeccably clean and immaculately decorated with marble sinks and walls. The guide also mentioned how the bathrooms met all sanitary measures and called my attention to the hands-free soap, lotion and paper towel dispenser and faucet. Each hallway played different types of music, setting different moods, some calming and others upbeat. This place was unparalleled!

I tried probing to find out more about the owner. “So tell me about the manager and owner of this place. How often are they onsite to manage and observe the day-to-day activities?”

“Well ma’am, I can proudly say the owner of Optimal Health Recreation Center is the chief-operating-officer as well. Mr. Azmir Jacobs, while an accomplished entrepreneur with many other thriving enterprises, is extremely dedicated to the success of the recreation center. He says in this project he has a special interest as he comes from similar conditions that this community has been subjected to. This, he calls his ‘
baby
’. And to answer your question he’s here virtually every day. His office overlooks the largest basketball court in the center.”

What type of name is Azmir Jacobs?
rang through my mind.

I had taken up enough of his time and felt that this part of my research was done.

“Okay. Well, thank you for your time. You’ve been a wonderful guide! Is there an application I can leave with?” I asked.

He walked me back to the front desk, gave me a handful of paperwork and we said our goodbyes.
This Azmir Jacobs must be a force to be reckoned with. His front desk staff was beyond professional and I’m sure it was by design.
They are the frontline salespeople of the business and boy, did they play it very well! These standards told me more about who he was, which is what I needed to know to save my career.

After getting into my car
, I drove around to the vacant business district of the property. So far they were all empty—fresh construction. It was pitch dark out and I didn’t feel safe enough to get out to peek into the window to gauge the size of the units so I did the best I could using the high-beams from the car. But from what I could make out the unit right next to the recreation center was the largest and that’s what I would shoot for. I went straight home to jump on my laptop. It was time for me to get my game plan together and create a business proposal.

I stayed up almost all night putting together the proposal. I didn’t want to just be ready for my meeting with Michelle
—I wanted to be ahead of the game. I knew the business from wearing so many hats over the past two years. I knew the vendors and equipment needed for a solid practice as well as how to oversee the budget and payroll. What I needed was a seasoned therapist on staff to offset my lack of experience as a physical therapist. I’d learned a lot over the past few years working with the experienced P.A.s at the practice, probably more than my fellow classmates but that’s not enough when you’re dealing with starting NBA and NFL players. Not to mention our insurance premiums being off the charts because of the liability we’d carry.

When Michelle and I met
, she was surprised by my proposal. She didn’t think that I could put together something viable and salient overnight. She filled in a few holes on the financial end but we both were very satisfied by the end of the night. That Monday we attended the meeting with the senior staff and by the following Friday we were in the boardroom of Mr. Azmir Jacobs.

I was nervous as all get out that morning, palms were clammy and my mouth was dry. Once we arrived
, we were escorted up to the conference room by a staff member just as warm and articulate as the young lad who gave me a tour the previous week. Thankfully, he didn’t recognize me. Strolling down the third floor corridor towards the conference room I noticed there were professional pictures of many of his businesses including the Cobalt club with their addresses engraved on the frame. Businesses such as nightclubs, restaurants, apartment complexes, beauty salons, barbershops and even a movie theater co-owned by Mr. Magic himself that made my stomach zip even more.

Michelle turned to check up on me while walking
into either my doom or destiny. Of course, he wasn’t in the room waiting but his “people
”
were. There were four men seated. Two of the men were African American, one Caucasian and the other Asian.
What a nice mix
. They were competently dressed in business attire—this was no family affair here, it was the strictest of professionalism. There were no pleasant smiles, small banter of neither weather nor networking, only silence thick enough to choke on.

The door opened and I was anxious and fretful at the same time, I could hear blood rushing through my ears. I was beyond ready to see who this man was to ease my concerns. If I knew at least what ethnicity he was
, I could determine my approach. But it was the office receptionist, an older Caucasian woman who was clearly warped in time from her butterfly shaped reading glasses and large broach that clasped at the center of her chest to drape her crocheted shawl.

“Mr. Jacobs is finishing up on a conference call that ran over. He’ll be here momentarily. Is there anything I can get you…water, coffee, tea?” She spoke
to the room through her nose giving off that pretentious nasal sound. We all declined and continued to wait.

Shortly after
, the door opened again and my team stood as a stiff-postured red head with red glasses who didn’t speak entered the room and headed straight to the lower end of the table. She was eventually followed by two men; one tall and strikingly handsome black man who donned a grey, pinstriped, well-fitted suit with pointed lapels and a peaked white handkerchief that blended perfectly with a blue dress shirt and brilliant lavender tie. The other man was Caucasian, nearly as tall with equally broad shoulders mimicking the same grace and confidence as the chocolate honey.

Once they were deep enough in the room we sat.
Abruptly, I felt Michelle’s knee strike my thigh underneath the table. I didn’t need to turn to her to know she enjoyed the eye candy. The only question was which object she admired best, the chocolate wonder or the blue-eyed sandy blonde honey next to him. My dear friend was an equal opportunist. 

I was sure this was it and the meeting was about to begin when the Caucasian gentleman apologized for their tardiness.
He then started the introductions beginning with the four men who were there when we arrived. They were Jacobs’ lawyers, financial person, and someone from city hall. His tone was a little brash but I guess that was because they’ve been through many prospective leasers and had many more to go, knee deep in the selection process.

Finally, he spoke again, “I’m Brett Martin,
executive assistant to Mr. Azmir Jacobs…”

I nearly fell out of my seat exhausted from heavy anticipation.
If he isn’t Jacobs, where the hell is he?

Then I noticed the
smooth cocoa-skinned guy, who was incredibly handsome, gaping at me. Those eyes seemed so familiar to me. He must have noticed the confusion I was wearing on my face because I saw the slight slanting in his eyes.

I diverted my eyes back to Brett who
continued, “Throughout this meeting, although you will address all parties present, I may ask questions for clarity for the notes I’m recording. The final decision will be made by Mr. Jacobs who will lead the meeting. Mr. Jacobs…”

The sounds of the room suddenly faded and my chest rose in total shock. “
The chocolate Adonis is Azmir Jacobs?!
” screamed in my head. I would’ve never guessed it to save my life. I had to quickly compose myself and gather a game plan, one far from the previous ones I had ready in my arsenal.

Azmir Jacobs, the shrewd mogul, the fierce tycoon, is a brother?

“Well, I know you’re representing Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine…” he said glimpsing over the name on the document in front of him. “…but why don’t we start off by learning who’s present.” His voice was husky, firm, commanding and yet still had the bizarre and extraordinary ability to cause my belly to lurch
and not due to my nerves either
.

I watched raptly as he reached into his inner breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a gold pocket watch. It was attached to a long gold chain
, the type that older men used to wear back in the day.
What caliber of man is he to sport such an antiquated accessory and make it look so damn hot?
I couldn’t help but notice his long fingers, immediately feeling perverted for wondering what they’d feel like against my skin. They were nicely manicured yet Azmir Jacobs didn’t strike me as a metrosexual type of man. He quickly glanced at the time as though it was important to him before stowing the watch back inside of his jacket. This wasn’t looking good for me.

John Ephart kicked off our pitch by introducing the Smith, Katz & Adams staff and explained that I’d be responsible for presenting the proposal. Once he was done
, the floor was mine. After taking a deep breath, I decided to let it rip. I stood and passed out the proposal packets that included the history and relevant facts of the practice, our mission and vision statements. Although all the information was in the packets, I elaborated on the important information. I went to the head of the room where the easel was to mount my chart and talked about why this location would not only benefit the practice, but the rec center as well. The basis of my proposal was how the two entities could work in concert to drive revenue. I explained that according to my research there were a number of athletes who frequented the center off season, among other celebrities, and named a few. I continued by stating the possibility of the recreation center, with the help of the practice, being a one-stop-shop for his professional athletic clientele.

Somewhere mid my presentation
, Azmir Jacobs gave me a magnetic gaze that was so intense, so electrifying, nearly throwing me off my game. I felt a little awkward but tried not to let it interrupt my performance. I continued by complimenting Mr. Jacobs’ vision and development of the recreation center and commented on his proficient staff. I gave him direct eye contact. This was my way of flattering him and was the closing of my proposal. What a risk that was, his
beauty
became clearer at each glance. There is no other word that could accurately describe his masterfully carved and classic features. After re-stating our interest I emphasized the objectives of the proposal, opened for questions and then turned it over to Michelle who had a smirk of confidence on her face and I knew that was code for, “
You killed it, girl!
”

Before Michelle spoke there was a pause for Jacobs’ team to come with questions or feedback. Mr. Jacobs motioned to indicate he was about to speak. My confidence weakened, nervousness awakened and my mouth went dry at the sight of his arresting eyes.