Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (27 page)

She stood speechless for a while. I needed to know what she was thinking. I had to know what she was feeling. But I gave her time to process what this was.

“Azmir…it’s…” Rayna whispered.

“Your own dance room. Here. At the marina.”

“But…why would you go through the trouble?”

“It’s no trouble at all to make you feel comfortable here, in
your
home. I don’t want you to have to want or need for anything that isn’t here with me. I want you here. Permanently.”

Rayna covered her eyes, taking long minutes to settle her emotions. I’m sure it didn’t help that it was that time of the month for her anyway. I waited patiently. I would always wait for her to adjust to me.

That night, I bathed Rayna and gave her a full body massage to help with her menstrual symptoms before we drifted off to sleep. In our bed. Rayna didn’t speak much. I figured I’d given her lots to think about and didn’t want to disrupt her flow. And besides, I’d said all I needed to say.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rayna

The next morning, I dropped Azna off at my place in Redondo Beach. I needed to be sure that I wanted to try again with Azmir before falling into the same peculiar arrangement that got us into this estranged place we were in. I took off to work and went about my day as usual.

My appointment flow at work was normal and all of the morning patients were familiar, but what wasn’t was my inability to get Azmir’s betrayal out of my head. The visual imageries of him taking
her
face into his mouth drove me crazy, and wondering how she liked it threatened upheavals of bile from the pits my stomach. I couldn’t shake the fears of upcoming events when they’d be left together
alone
.

At one point during my third appointment, I had to abruptly leave the room, demanding that my PTA took over. I barely reached my desk before the tears streamed down my face. Breathing became painful and the more that I recalled Azmir’s sweetly making love to me a few days ago, I couldn’t help but seeing visions of him on top of Dawn Taylor.

It starts off with kiss for everybody
.

My thoughts led to more questions that fueled my curiosities, and before I knew it, I was sitting behind my desk and had Googled Dawn Taylor. An impressive number of hits piled on the page. One link that caught my eye was her Facebook page. I clicked on it and saw it was open to the public. I’d only known a small bit about Facebook from my brief tutorial with Michelle the day she came to the office to show me how to set up a page for the Long Beach City office. That day, I looked up Azmir only to learn he didn’t have one at the time, but the recreation center did. Immediately, I called on the recollection of Michelle’s guidance.

Dawn was an avid poster. She had a personal page aside from her PR firm’s fan page. After spending less than a minute on her page it was painfully obvious that she was crushing on a man, a man who fit Azmir’s description. She’d post random things like:

Oh, 6 foot 4 inches of dark chocolate glory…

Take a chance on me, trust me to market your story.

I can lead you to places your half a billion can’t afford you…

Take a trip with me into erotic gateways that only I can fit you through.

You say things are too complicated and she makes it impossible…

Take me on like your body told me how much my touch was critical.

This bitch is insane
. My hand clenched the mouse, almost to crack it. My heart sped, colliding into my chest.

I clicked on
About
and saw her relationship status set to “
It’s complicated.
” I went back out to her timeline to see frequent postings, asking her friends to “like” Cobalt’s page, the rec center’s page, and Mauve’s page and a few more names that I didn’t recognize, like
Global Fusions
. But what I did know was the first two were a part of Azmir’s brand. When I came to the picture of her and Azmir at some event last week I became lightheaded and needed to recline in my office chair to secure my equilibrium. I gripped the chair handles to help steady my head spin. Rage pumped in my veins and I saw red when I glanced over at Dawn’s crooked smile.

I’m not sure how long I sat there, I lost track of time and reason. My phone buzzed and it was Sharon making me aware of my next appointment. I took a minute to gather myself then pushed myself out of my office to face the remainder of my day.

After lunch,  my phone pinged. It was a text from Azmir.

At the airport. I have to make an emergency trip along with my attorneys up to Canada. Rich’s daughter was in an accident earlier today so I couldn’t defer this to him. I’ll be back as soon as things get settled. I trust you and Azna will settle back into the marina seamlessly. Call me once you do.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say. I felt the push in his words about settling in at the marina. I knew I had to soon tell him that it wouldn’t be happening. Him being in Canada gave me some time to think of just how I would.

I thought about Yazmine and wondered if she had packed her things up and was awaiting my call to have her move in my place. I also thought of Chef Boyd showing up to the marina to cook for an empty apartment. All of the inconveniences of me not being forthcoming strangled me at the throat. I challenged myself to let it go and to think about me first. It was Azmir who cheated. It is him who won’t set the record straight with his delusional PR stalker. I would let him work out all the nuances of me not moving back into the marina. Hopefully he’d do a better job than what he did with Dawn Taylor.

It wasn’t until later on that night when I sat alone in my living room, working on charts that I decided to pen Azmir a letter to hopefully explain my plans. I opened a new e-mail and started typing away.

Azmir,

I received your text and hope that you were able to resolve your issues in Canada. I know it must be difficult having to change the course of your plans unexpectedly. Unfortunately, I’ll be adding to that.

Azmir, I will not be moving back in with you. I apologize in advance for the inconvenience this may cause in planning Yazmine’s living situation. It’s just that no matter how hard I fight to forget, I can’t let go of your betrayal with Dawn Taylor. It was an eye-opener and I feel it’s not totally your fault. You have emotional needs that apparently I’m not meeting, which is probably why we haven’t taken on a formal relationship. As much as I am working on my deficiencies, I cannot expect you to wait on me to heal what ails me internally. I am damaged and it’s not fair to you at this point in your life when things are going so well to have to baby-sit a woman who’s so broken that she can’t assist with your needs. Dawn’s presence reminds me that there are other women who are more than willing to give you what you need while you wait on the glue to dry as I attempt to piece myself back together. Hopefully, we can take some time next week to discuss me returning your car and the things you’ve gifted me. Except for Azna. I wouldn’t survive losing the only two beings connected to my heart.

Please know that as much as you may hate me, I hate myself for fooling the both of us into thinking I could love you the way you need to be loved. I appreciate all you’ve done to make me feel whole and alive in my otherwise motionless and empty existence. I want you happy more than I want to continue to risk hurting you and at the end revealing that those very things you are waiting to surface in me are actually improbable possibilities.

Take care.

I owe you a debt of gratitude far beyond what I deserved.

Rayna

~~~~~~~~~~

The next two days came and went. My period and its symptoms relented and dissipated, much to my relief. I was still very blue, but miraculously still in motion.

That Friday, I met with Brian Thompson to discuss the pending lawsuit against the practice. He needed to brief me on the details of it and what to expect in the up and coming weeks from the preliminary hearings. I couldn’t believe how quickly things were progressing. And to my surprise, the PTA that was transferred to my location two weeks prior was at the center of it. Apparently, he was transferred to me as a legal strategy when he was accused of sexual harassment by one of the interns at the Orange County location.

Naturally, I was livid and asked how ethical was it to put other staff at risk of the same harassment Wayne Tanner was being accused of. Thompson did his best to explain that the procedure was standard and other tactics were being considered to protect all parties involved. We spoke extensively about the situation and it added to the mountain of stress that had pressured the levy in my world.

When I peered up to check the time, I noticed it was well after two in the afternoon and I was starved.

“Thompson, I’m sorry to be rude…”

“Shit. I didn’t realize how much time had passed. I hope I didn’t keep you from seeing patients.”

“No. Not at all. It’s just that I’m hungry. I’ve been moving so much over the past few days that I’ve been neglectful in nourishing my body.” I gave a sheepish smile. I could be so “valley”, something I’d often accused Michelle of.

“I can use a bite myself. Why don’t we go grab a late lunch? There’s a new spot at Marina Pacifica that I’d love to check out.”

I stilled at his invitation. It had always been a red zone for me. I never had to think about the answer, just how to formulate a no. Until today.

Thompson snorted, “It’s just lunch, Rayna. I’ll even let you pay if that’ll make you feel better.”

I exhaled into laughter. His proposal was actually attractive. “My stomach won’t allow me to say no. Let me clear it with Sharon and I’ll meet you outside.”

The hugest, most endearing smile crested upon Brian’s face. It was as if he’d won his first sports championship as an adolescent. It also felt good to let down my guard and look forward to a simple lunch date with someone low-key.

The lunch date turned out to be all but simple
. My marred judgment to order a cocktail was the first strike. I was so wound up and knew I didn’t have anymore patients for the rest of the day, so I used that to make it okay to order a second. Brian followed suit and enjoyed Patron pomegranate cocktails, an odd drink for a man. The ambiance of the restaurant on the water was familiar. It was the backdrop to many of the dining excursions Azmir arranged for us, only I wasn’t with Azmir. I was with Brian Thompson, laughing mindlessly at the candor of his feelings for the higher ups of the practice.

“Jim Katz has no balls. He allows Dave to take risks all the time that leaves the practice so damn vulnerable. And
he’s
a fucking pathological liar. You know when Dave Smith is lying through his teeth when his nose turns red.”

I balled over in laughter. I knew that crimson nose so well. “Even the lumps on it turn a special shade of pink!” I spat out.

“Oh, so you know the infamous indicator, too?” he cackled as he put his glass back down on the table.

“Yes, Michelle put me up on it my first week of interning with the practice.”

“Shit. I wish I had someone to give me the heads up before my first sit down with an opposing attorney.”

We laughed hysterically as we covered a myriad of topics. It was nice to escape reality, even if only for a couple of hours. It afforded me the opportunity to meet
another
Brian Thompson, one I needed at that point in my crazy world. I was relieved with the amount of safety and carefree environment that was conducive to my emotional state at that time.

Somewhere, mid our third drink when the waiter was clearing our plates, Brian muttered, “This has been my dream for the past two months.”

“What?” I sighed, catching my breath from my last laughing spree.

“Seeing you this free to laugh around me. To see a new smile upon your face, one that I effected.” His gaze into me narrowed as I experienced the sincerity in Thompson’s eyes. If he was kicking game, he made me believe him.

“Well, thanks for the laughs.” I took a sip of my cosmopolitan. “Considering the past couple weeks I’ve had, it feels good to laugh.”

“Your smile complements your cut. It’s beautiful by the way. It unleashes your femininity.” Thompson’s tone stopped short of a growl. I could tell he was measuring his coquetry. For some reason, I was pleased that he not only noticed my new change, but approved of it, something I doubted Azmir would. Azmir was extremely fond of my natural mane. He even loved it more when it was wild and unrestrained. Humbly, I brushed the back of my neck, something that was growing habitual now that it was exposed. I felt empowered.  

“
You’re
beautiful,” Thompson continued. My brows furrowed at his openness. “Not that you haven’t always been, but this is a new side of your beauty that I wasn’t privy to before today. I feel honored, and now I’m jealous.” He didn’t break his deep gaze when he lifted to drink from his tumbler.

Brian and I made it back to the practice just before five p.m. and through my inebriated fog, I saw people taking to their cars, ending another workweek. I noticed Brian’s smooth dash around his sleek white BMW 750 to open my door. I was careful to stand gracefully considering my state. Once out, I leaned into the car, giving him enough room to close the door. I wanted to thank him for a nice afternoon outing. I’d likely be heading out after clearing my desk.