Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (36 page)

“Ms. Brimm, we have lots to talk about, but now we must start our day. If we stay here like...this...” He gestures to me on his lap, “...we’ll never leave. Boyd should be out there by now waiting on our orders. I have my session with Tyler, an insane amount of meetings and a dental appointment this morning,” he muttered, lifting me off of his lap, causing me to wince. He was evading my questions. 

“I have to shower,” he said just before kissing me on the shoulder and exiting the bed for the bathroom.

After washing and dressing for the gym, I walk out into the kitchen. Azmir is there at the breakfast table on the phone and his iPad at the same time. He’s always working. 

“C. Boyd!” I call out as I always do when seeing him in the morning.

Chef Boyd turns to find me, “Ms. Brimm, you look like you’re ready to run a marathon this morning! What can I fix you to help with that?” Boyd asks playfully as Azmir eyeballs me until I sit at the table with him. I could tell he was ending his telephone conversation.

“I'm starvin’ like Marvin! I think I’ll go with Belgium waffles with your wicked blueberry sauce,” I request.

Azmir shoots me a sharp gaze. “I wonder what Tyler would say about that.”

I’m not sure if he’s serious or not. In fact, I’m not sure I’m picking up the warmest of vibes from him at all, which is weird considering our time earlier.
 

I return his glower and hiss in return, “If you won’t tell about my breakfast, I won’t tell him about your kinky fascination with restraints this morning and how it’s the cause of my feeble shoulders and wrists.” I knew it wasn’t necessary, but my words were out there before I could weigh them.

Azmir raises his eyebrows as soon as he knew where I was going and before I was done. His neck extends forward and he cuts his eyes toward Chef Boyd, who was within earshot. I didn’t care. We were all adults.
Shoot, he knows I live here.
He’s followed Azmir to my place in the high hours of the morning.
He knows we have sex!

Azmir doesn’t seem too pleased about me alluding to our intimate life in front of his staff. I didn’t want to piss him off, especially after our superb lovemaking this morning. Then it dawned on me: Perhaps Azmir was feeling vulnerable about his nearly slipped confession of wanting to get married. I’m not accustomed to seeing him in an insecure state. I bet very few get to sit in the seat I’m theoretically resting in now.
 

“Any meat or sides with that, ma’am?” Boyd ask, surely trying to cut the tension in the kitchen this morning.
 

“Turkey bacon would be nice. Thanks,” I reply with less zing in my voice. Azmir just knocked me down a peg. His eyes are still glued to me, though now he holds up his paper with both hands over the table. I roll my eyes at him.
Yeah, he’s in a foul mood—again...but it’s so unnecessary.

Out of nowhere, he quietly reaches for my hand over the table. As I turn my attention back to him, his eyes soften. He turns my wrist up still in search of markings.
 
They’re actually on my breasts.

We ate our breakfasts in silence. Azmir has his usual egg white omelet with spinach and tomatoes and turkey bacon. Boyd’s presentations are most exquisite.
 

As we were finishing up Azmir breaks his quiet, “Don’t forget to clear your schedule for our meeting with the attorneys this afternoon.” I nod and am once again reminded of the looming quagmire that I’ve been thrust into—we’ve been thrust into.

Over a romantic dinner on the water yesterday, Azmir informed me that his legal team is eager to take this bull by the horns and have begun reaching out to all parties involved, including my practice.
Am I ready for this today?
I ask myself as I clear the table,  preparing to leave.

Over in the foyer, Azmir and I are leaving out at the same time. This doesn’t always happen. I’m still thrown by his mood. It’s like he’s been sulking since our morning expedition and I’m not all that certain why. But I had bigger fish to fry; getting through the day that lay ahead so I brushed it off.
 

At the front door I yell to Boyd, “Thanks for breakfast, CB. It was great per usual. Can’t wait for dinner!”

“It’s my pleasure, Ms. Brimm. Hope I can pull it off again for dinner. Have a great day!” he returns while busying himself in the kitchen. 

“Make it a good one, Mr. Jacobs, sir,” Boyd bode.

“This evening, Boyd. I’m looking forward to it,” Azmir replied with his lips petulantly set into a grim line. I thought it was strange, as Boyd prepares our dinner in the morning. He’s only contracted to show in the morning for two meals. I’m usually warming up dinner he’d prepared that morning when I get in at night. But again, I shook it off due to pending issues.

Azmir peered down at me with an intense gape. “It’s going to be a trying day, I’m sure, Ms. Brimm. You’ll get through it,” he murmurs, giving me words of encouragement.

Mood changer!

Initially, I resolve to say nothing, just try to read his mood. But I couldn’t help it. This communication thing he constantly summoned went both ways. “What were you trying to say earlier—”

Azmir cut me off with a tender kiss as he grabbed my backside, pushing me into him. He did all of this while taking a sharp inhale through his beautiful nostrils. His kiss took my breath away and my pulse surged. It was promising and calming all at once.

Still staring deep into my eyes he murmurs, “We have lots to discuss.”

But what does that mean?
I don’t ask. Clearly, he’s not ready to answer. 

I ride into work without incident. My workout with Tyler went well. I’m really enjoying the way my body is sculpting. It had been just a few short months and I was more impressed with my body than I
had ever dreamed possible. Now, Azmir wasn’t the only one with a killer frame. I’ve stepped my game up. I showered and dressed at the rec and made it into the office by eight twenty a.m. 

After speaking with Sharon about my schedule, I got my day started. The morning sped by as usual. However, my thoughts of my morning with Azmir played in the front of my mind.
Marriage? Me?
I couldn’t come up with why I wasn’t suited for this particular institution, but it was honestly something that I’ve never thought about since being a kid. Until now, I hadn’t come across a man that took my dreams that far. I mean, after our time in Vegas, I knew I wanted to be with Azmir forever,
but marriage was an entirely different bird
.

After finishing up with my midday client, Mrs. Ginn, I quickly scarfed down a bite to eat from the kitchen. Azmir had the cafeteria from the rec deliver various menu items to us several times a week. He pays for it and my staff always expresses their gratitude whenever he comes over.

I walked over to the rec and was confronted by my favorite nemesis, Old Lady Peg. She had warmed to me slightly over the months, but it’s clear she doesn’t want to get overly-friendly. 

“He’s finishing up a meeting. You can go right in...at least that’s what he says. It seems quite rude to me,” Peg remarks. I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I make my way over to Azmir’s office and knock on the door. I didn’t want to barge in.
 

“Come in,” Azmir barked. I turned to Old Ice Queen Peg who rudely gestured for me to walk in as if I were a child. Once again, I ignore her and step inside. I see there are several people in Azmir’s office and all eyes are on me.
 

Once Azmir sees me his eyes goes into a priapic slant
 and we were suspended in time before he breathes, “Ms. Brimm,” as he searches for the time on his pocket watch all flustered.

Once it registers to him that it is nearly two in the afternoon he says, “Well, that’s my time, all. I expect those newly implemented reports in forty-eight hours from now. Should there be any further questions forward them to Brett. And if you think by doing that you’re off the hook, God bless you because he’s hell on wheels about these new standards. They’re his baby. Good day, folks,” Azmir announces far more cheery than I left him this morning.

I walked over to him as his staff all stare at me, trying to decipher the look he gave me moments ago. It’s either that or they’re wondering
who is this woman who has the authority to interrupt an A.D. Jacobs meeting
? I try to lock my eyes ahead toward Azmir as he exchanges a few parting words with Brett who politely greets me. 

Azmir’s eyes travel over to me like a child in wonderment. “It’s nice to see you...breaks up the monotony of the day,” he murmurs in a manly and husky tone. It was arousing.
 

“You act as if we weren’t scheduled to meet at this hour,” I reply in an effort to end his flirtatious attempts.
 

I could hear Brett, who was just inches away from Azmir, speaking into a wire, say, “Mr. Jacobs, conference room C is ready for your meeting with Chesney and his team now.” Azmir nods and continues eyeing me from head to toe as he reaches for his suit jacket.
 

“Ready?” he asks. I shake my head with a smile and we headed up to the conference room.
 

Once seated at the table I ask, “How did your dental appointment go this morning?” I wondered where was his dentist located. Was it in Marina Del Rey? Unlikely because he’s new to that area. Was it here in LBC? Is that a personal question?
Ewwwwww!
I’m tortured by my personal thoughts.

“It was…discovering,” he chuckled to himself, looking deliciously gorgeous doing so.
 

“What’s so funny about discovery?” I ask as we’re trying to keep our voices low.

Azmir leans into me, “As she cleaned my teeth, she admonished me about my food choices this morning.” He tried to contain his private amusement. I was confused. I recounted what he had for breakfast.

“Was it the spinach?” I asked.

He shook his head. “A little stringier.” Azmir cocked his head to the side, bringing my attention to his mouth when he pushed back against his molars.

My eyebrows furrowed, trying to catch on. At the same time I hear people entering the room behind me and Azmir cuts his eyes to them, waving them in.
 

I’m looking at him in search for an answer. Putting me out of my suspense, he murmurs, “Hair.”
 

Hair? What hair?

He quickly points to my lap with his eyes and the nod of his head. Within seconds it settles in.

My pubic hair!

“Oh, shhh—!” I trill, successfully keeping myself from sputtering profanity. My eyes bulges at him and he flashes a panty-snatching smirk before turning his attention to his guests.

“Chesney!” Azmir greeted with great cheer and familiarity in his tone to a slender Caucasian man matching his height. It’s his attorney, Chesney, I presumed as I stood to greet him myself. His eyes locked with mine from the moment he laid them on me, looking beyond Azmir. It made me uncomfortable. I didn’t know if he was reading me or undressing me with his eyeballs.

Chesney was followed into the room by his associates whom seemed familiar with Azmir, too. Azmir finishes up his hellos to them and then proceeds to introduce me. “Chesney, as I'm sure you’ve figured out by now, this is the illustrious Rayna Brimm. A very special friend of mine.”

“I see. Are we using that title now?” Chesney taunts without a smile. He continues to study me for a moment, looking me from head to toe before exercising a wide contrived smile and announcing, “Ms. Brimm, I’m Edward Chesney of
Chesney’s Law
located in Glendora. I am A.D.’s—I mean, Mr. Jacobs’ attorney. I handle civil legal matters for him amongst other akin items,” he shoots out quickly and cunningly removes his smug smile. He gestures to my seat, “You may sit.”

I look at Azmir who was wearing an odd smile that didn’t quite register to me yet. But I had to motion to him regarding Chesney’s introduction by way of shooting him a look of bewilderment. Overall, his aura was weird. Azmir glanced at me for a brief moment before returning his attention to Chesney who had not stopped gaping at me, but diverting his sight down to his shoes now.

“Ms. Brimm, Mr. Jacobs here is not only one of my prize clients for...
obvious reasons
, but he’s also one of my favorites. Do you know why?” he poses a question. 

I shift in my seat, growing uncomfortable and giving him a blank stare.

“I see. Well, it’s because he makes my life and therefore my job easy by doing one simple thing, which is keeping me informed—on everything!” He pauses before continuing. He’s now pacing the room from the opposite side of the conference table. 

“You see, Mr. Jacobs is sure to share with me every detail of his life that can cause risk. Risk to his name, risk to his brand, risk to his reputation, and risk to his wealth. My job is to protect his wealth and I’m
damn
good at my job, Ms. Brimm,” he emphasizes the “m’s” in my name while towering over me, leaning on the other side of table.

I squint my eyes to chase off his very imposing gaze.

“I see,” Chesney continues. “Back to Mr. Jacobs and his skillful ability to disclose. Yes!” He tosses his long index finger in the air as if he’s just found his way back to his lecture. “He’s really good at divulging pertinent information. For instance, I know that you manage a physical therapy firm next door for Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine Center. I know that you earn roughly $67-72,000 annually—
which is grossly underpayment for the role you play, coincidentally
...”