Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (37 page)

BOOK: Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)
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I dart my eyes to Azmir, wondering how did he know how much I’m paid. I’ve never shared that with Azmir, which I guess is why I had to calm myself. Azmir shrugged, gesturing that he was just as much surprised by this information as I was.

Chesney continued with his monologue, “Okay, enough about you. I know that during January of this year, Mr. Jacobs endowed you with an extensive Louis Vuitton luggage collection. I know that it was part of a ploy to get you to vacation with him in Mexico.
Some expensive woo’ing in my opinion but...
” He held his hands up, femininely, in defense. His inflections were killing me! “...every man goes about charming in his own way,” Chesney paused again, gauging my reaction before continuing. “Let’s see. I also know that you and my client now co-habitat
and a little off my advisement
,” he says and I narrow my eyebrows at his audacity.

“Oh, yeah!” he confirms, responding to my reaction. “If I had it my way you would have signed a cohabitation agreement, highlighting every agreed upon detail, down to bathroom usage,
but...he denied my request
—something he always does as it concerns you, Ms. Brimm,” Chesney informs me while giving Azmir a cold gaze. 

“E,” Azmir warned.

“Okay...okay...
okaaaaaay
,” Chesney placated very dramatically. In fact, this whole production was melodramatic. I couldn’t help but to wonder about his sexuality. He had several feminine traits, but that doesn’t guarantee anything now-a-day.

“Where were we?” Another dramatic pause, “
I see.
You see, Ms. Brimm, there are very few things that I
don’t
know about my client. I know his tastes and his preferences. For example, I know that you’re wearing lace panties of his gifting. And narrowing down his preferences, they are either La Perla or Victoria's Secret. Narrowing down his color preferences they’re either some variation of white, pink. or black,” he says while looking me dead in the eye, which forces me to look at Azmir who now looks uncomfortable as he’s readjusting himself in his seat, but still says nothing.

“It is not my intention to belittle or embarrass you this afternoon, rather to orient you to the culture of my practice. Mr. Jacobs has generously retained me on your behalf and my firm has already begun our work in investigating said individuals. I would just like to stress to you full disclosure. This can get
reeeeally
ugly depending on if or how much the radio station backs this young lady who released this provocative video, claiming it
starred
you. With what we’ve uncovered, along with Mr. Jacobs—
astounding discovery
—we have a very strong case. I would just hope that you are just as forthcoming a client as your...boyfriend here,” he says, cutting his eyes at Azmir.

What the...!

“I plan to pursue this vigorously. You are now just as much of a client as Mr. Jacobs here. We have secured a meeting with your higher-ups over at Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine Center for six this evening. I hope you don’t have dinner plans,” he pauses before asking, “Do you?”

Oh!
He was waiting on an answer from me?

“Oh! Seeing that you know so much about me, I had assumed you were going to answer that question
for
me,” I hissed.

He gives an arrogant chuckle. “No, dear. But I do endeavor to know more about you...
considering you don’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon
.” Yet another pause. He raises his index finger to his temple. “Yeah, and about that! How
do
you feel about prenuptial agreements?
Just by chance…
” he asks, drawing into me again.

I gasped.
Is Azmir’s attorney asking me about marriage after my incident with Azmir earlier this morning? Is this confirmation?

“Ed!” Azmir fires off another warning shot again.
 

Chesney shakes his head, unsuccessfully attempting to retract his previous question. “Bad timing...
bad timing
. We can revisit that at another time.” 

“Chesney, what do you need from Ms. Brimm now? I’m sure she’s still on the clock and has patients to get back to. And then I’d like a word with you,” Azmir takes over.

Finally!

Chesney shakes his head again in exasperation, “My associate, Whalus, over here will take a full statement and ask a few standard questions. The sooner you answer, the quicker you can resume your work day,” Chesney sulks.

This must mean he’s in trouble. Good!

I stayed behind for about a half hour to consult with Chesney’s team. I even had to give full disclosure about how I came to run the Long Beach City practice. I hadn’t thought about the details of that story in so long, but providing everything to the best of my memory. When that was over I returned back to my office to finish up my day.
 

I met Chesney and one of his associates at Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine Center’s headquarters later that evening. The meeting was extremely brief. I was pleasantly surprised at how amenable Dave Smith was to not suspending me or taking any disciplinary actions until they have indisputable evidence showing that I was involved. Brian Thompson did most of the speaking while Dave Smith looked preoccupied. He mentioned that he was mortified that Michelle was on the tape and would do anything that would bring all those responsible for leaking it to justice.
 

It was weird seeing Thompson there. I could still see the healing bruises on his face. As much as I wanted to discuss his fight with Azmir, I knew this wasn’t the appropriate time or place. I was surprised that he hadn’t broached the subject yet himself. I also recalled Azmir’s request of me steering clear of Thompson. Azmir and I were still rebounding from that event, so I’ve managed to obey his firm request. I guess it was something I’d have to wait out.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rayna

On my way home I longed for my bed. It was later than usual so I’d hoped Azmir had warmed dinner in my wake. As I walked through the door, the aroma was delightful. The lights in the kitchen were on and I could hear the clashing of dishes ringing from there.

I placed my briefcase on the bench in the foyer when I suddenly saw a woman of Asian descent walking past. “Oh!” she gasped while holding her chest.

I must’ve given her the look of death.
Who in heaven’s name is this?
 

“Ms. Brimm!
 I’m so sorry! We didn’t know you had arrived,” she flashed a nervous smile to move past our frightening introduction.

“I’m Kim. Mr. Jacobs is out on the patio awaiting you,” she said while extending her arm toward the patio.

Warily, I walk over to the balcony, passing the kitchen where I can hear Chef Boyd working the stove on the way. Soft music was playing as I walked out to find Azmir on the phone. I quickly notice the dinner table for two set up with an ivory table cloth and chairs with white covers. The fresh white lilies were resplendent with their black bulbs bursting from the center. The utensils were displayed in a formal manner with two forks and spoons with a knife. If I didn’t know better I would have thought I’d just walked into one of the five-star restaurants Azmir takes me to. There were gorgeous white lights trimming the balcony, creating a romantic ambiance. What was this for? My eyes dart back to Azmir who was still heavily engaged in his conversation.

“He bought how many shares? Is this something we’d still want to get into? Yeah? Uh-huhn. Well, let me sit on this and get back to you in the morning. Nah, man. I can’t rush this one. Something doesn’t feel right to me.”

He turns to find me waiting in the doorway. His expression changes as does the mood in his eyes. While keeping his gape on me he continues, “I gotta go, Rich. Love’s home. Yeah. First thing in the a.m.,” he assures before ending the call.

With his eyes still fixated on me he greets, “Good evening, Ms. Brimm.” He doesn’t smile, but there’s still that sparkle in his eye. And not to mention, the lights of the marina bouncing off the water, reflecting a warm glow against his skin.

“Hungry?” 

“I was before stepping into all of this,” I saying, gesturing my hand to the romantic set up. “I see we have guests.” I was asking for an explanation when a young male waiter, with honey blonde hair and the most piercing green eyes, wearing a black chef coat, came out with two bottles of wine. He didn’t speak. Azmir acknowledged him by asking me to take a seat.

“Join me?” he asked, pulling out a chair. I stroll over to him and sit. He scoots me to the table and takes his seat. Once we’re down, the waiter approaches the table and says. 

“Good evening, sir and Ms. Brimm. I am Chaise, one of your waiters for this evening. May I offer you a drink? Tonight we have a red, a 2005 Chateau Lafite Rothschild and white, a 2007 Sassicaia.

Azmir chose red and I followed suit. As Chaise pours into our glasses Azmir asks, “So, I hear your meeting with the Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine Center’s heads went well. How are you feeling overall?”

“Tired. Annoyed. Happy to be done with my day.” Azmir looked affected. “Is Chesney always that intense?” I ask.

With a snort Azmir says, “You should’ve seen him the day I evaluated his law firm for services. You would’ve thought he was putting me on his payroll. Intense is an understatement. But he’s superior in his work.”

“Well, I can assure you that the good bosses of Smith, Katz & Adams Sports Medicine Center weren’t expecting the flair of Chesney.” We both giggled at that.

“So, are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what, Ms. Brimm?”

“Tell me what’s going on with you. Your missed announcement this morning during our love session—”

He gives a sly smirk and interrupts with, “That was something to write the heavens over, wasn’t it?”

I blushed and maneuvered in my seat while trying to inconspicuously return to my point. “Then your foul mood this morning at the breakfast table. And this afternoon during the meeting with Chesney and associates. You were...subdued.”

He tilts his head to the side and asks, “Subdued. Hmmmm...really?”

I nod as I take a gulp of my wine. Kim comes out with crab bisque soup and bread. I start attacking it immediately.
Oh, my!
It’s sooo good!

Azmir takes a moment to think.
 

“Here’s the thing, little girl,” he says and it kind of turns me on. He reaches over his bowl of soup for his wine glass and takes a quick sip. “It’s no secret that I have difficulty gauging your moods and gaining your ultimate trust. It has been my daily goal to get you to trust me totally and completely. Once I do, I can take you places that you’ve never dreamed possible. But until then, I’d like to start physically taking you places.”

That was loaded
, I thought to myself as I tried to follow his conversation.

“Let’s go away,” he says softly.

Go away?
“When?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“Next week—soon.”

Boy, was he straightforward. Could I do that? Did I have the time from work?

“Brett has already checked with Sharon. She said you can expend a few days at work with fair notice.”

Really? So it’s that simple! You can simply go over me and have my receptionist check my availability? 

“That’s a little intrusive, wouldn’t you say?” I ask mildly.

Azmir shrugs, “That was the purpose of synching our assistants, was it not?”

Technically, Sharon isn’t an assistant. She’s the office receptionist. She’s only at my disposal more than other PTs because I head the practice.

“Look,” Azmir breaks my ruminative thoughts and I notice him placing his glass back on the table. “I don’t mean to intrude. I would simply like to take you away.”

I finish my glass of wine and Chaise comes out. “Refill, Ms. Brimm?”

“Please, Chaise,” I forge a polite smile.

Azmir’s eyes shoot up, “Done already?”

“I told you, it’s been a long day.” I exhale as Chaise pours me another glass.

“So what’s going on with Tara and the baby?” I ask. I don’t know where the question came from, but I put it out there. And after I did I was glad because it sounded like the most responsible thing to do. I mean, our future laid in the balance on the paternity of this baby.
Or did it?

“She’s still dragging her feet on the test.”
 

“Sounds daunting.”

“Sounds hood rat-ish to me,” he said, clearly frustrated by it all.

“Would you want full custody?”

“Rayna, for the millionth time: that is not my baby.”

“I’m just saying if—”

“End of story,” he pronounces with a slight raise of his voice.

Before I could think of a response, though I’m not sure I would have had one after that outburst anyway, both waiters come to collect out bowls and serve the main entree.
 

They sat stainless steel salvers with covers before us and opened them simultaneously to serve broiled salmon with a cream lobster sauce, and asparagus with red potatoes.
 

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