Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (7 page)

BOOK: Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)
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It stopped me in my tracks. I took a split second to consider his words. My concentric and ruminant eyes traveled to his large frame. Boyd was robust man. He towered me a few inches and his shoulders stretched a bit wider than mine. He’d always been mannerly and prepared with appropriate responses to trivial exchanges as well as formal conversations, which is likely why I entertained his comment.   

“If I can slow down my life just enough for her to see that I’m a formidable candidate, I just might have a shot,” I admitted with candor. “There aren’t enough shopping trips that can push her hand in that. Turns out she isn’t that type of catch.”

“That’s very true, sir, but I’m confident that you’ll find a way. Just know that time isn’t your friend, it will never be,” Boyd heeded and went back to whistling a tune. After several beats of contemplation, I headed to my office for a conference call with a head filled to the brim with
Brimm
.

After my conference call concluded, I made my way into the master suite to wash and dress for my flight. I was in the closet when my cell phone rang. The tone was distinctive, I immediately knew it was the iPhone. It wasn’t Rayna’s programmed ringtone, “
Nasty Girl
” that I had my I.T. guy install some way that only techy freaks would know how to do. Instead, it was a generic ring. I crossed the closet over to the island and answered it.

“Peace-Peace,” I greeted.

“Divine, my man, long time no hear!”

A wide ass smile splayed across my face, “David. How are you?”

“It’s D.J., D. You know I don’t like that David shit,” I could hear the petulant pouting in his tone. He still had lots of growing up to do.

“David is a strong universal name. I told you to never hide from your legacy. That cool shit is whack. You’re twenty-eight years old and are on the road to success. Your name is David. Fuck a D.J.,” I recited sternly. My intent wasn’t to condescend, but to reaffirm the strengths of his reality.

“Ye-yeah,” David sputtered, suddenly sounding lowly. “I know. It’s just that I want to be my own man. Build my own damn legacy—”

I cut him off, “You do and you are. You’re making profound strides. Don’t trip off the small shit.” 

“I know, D, man. But every time I hear his name, it makes me feel like a peon.”

I could hear ruffled sounds in the background
, making wonder where he was. I’d usually hear from David on a weekly basis and sometimes saw him just as much. He hasn’t been to Cobalt to visit me in a few weeks. I would have been more concerned if I didn’t get him hooked up with a job at the movie theater I’m part owner of. I’d hoped he maintain his struggle on the straight and narrow.

“Have you been keeping your visits with Dr. Halsom?” I quizzed as I adjusted my pants to zip, button
, and belt. I was extremely cognizant of the time. I had less than fifteen minutes to be out the door.

“Yeah, man!” David cried, his voice was high pitched. I knew he was petrified of losing my faith in him, and I hadn’t, but I still wanted to make sure he knew what was expected of him.

“And the job. How’s working as an assistant manager? Are they treating you right?”

“Y-yeah…yeah, man!” he spoke emphatically. David’s a former meth
junkie and his voice is always so shaky, but I believed him. I would’ve heard if he’d fucked up at his sobriety or job. “Everything’s all good, bro.”

“Good. Thanks for checking in. Next time don’t space it out so fucking much,” I warned as I grabbed my wallet, keys and pocket watch from the island draw.

“You’re right, D. I won’t. I’ve just been taking sometime to rebuild my life, you know…” his voice trailed off.

I knew that although he’d been clean for a year, David was still fucked up in the soul. I’m not sure if it’s beyond repair, that’s for the therapists he visits to determine. But I knew that he needed someone to stay on his ass. Someone he respected. The walks of life we traveled were as polarized as they can get, but we did intersect in the streets—streets that I owned and he fell victim to as he spiraled down a dark hole of addiction.

I don’t know why I gave a damn. I’d been a cold-hearted son of bitch since fifteen, slinging all types of narcotics. My actions made no connections to the lives of the feeble who were crushed in my illegal trade. The arms of my transgressions stretched further than to the patrons of the pipes, leaves, and powder that I’ve slung; they extended to the loved ones of those users and also to those who were made victims in their ruthless attempts to score my shit. These revelations never scratched the surface of my conscious until I ran into David. He held the mirror to my inner-sinister being. There had to be an unrelenting comeuppance in my afterlife.

“But I’m okay, I swear,” David pledged, waking me from my introspective thoughts as I zipped my duffle bag, ready to leave for the airport.

“Indeed. I’m on my way out of town on business. Come through Cobalt next week and let me lay eyes on you. Maybe we’ll catch a bite,” I murmured as my eyes scanned a partially opened draw that I gave a cursory glance in to discover it contained Rayna’s birth control pills. Several suggestive thoughts raced in my head in mere seconds regarding those magic pills. I immediately reeled them in, I needed to go.

“Sure, man,” David agreed and I tapped the red
End
tab on the phone as I made my way down the corridor towards the front door.

~~~~~~~~~~

 

I flew to Connecticut to meet with a casino whose overhead exceeded its earnings and had been in the red for a couple of years, barely able to stay afloat. Ironically, Mark and Eric’s fraternity was having a convention there. They were Alpha men and were due to be in town for a week-long celebration. I hadn’t seen them in a while and thought to rent a house that we could utilize and meet to catch up. Brett found a four bedroom home with a pool, outdoor Jacuzzi, basketball court, and a fully finished basement with a pool room and fully stocked bar. It was my treat to them for not having had the time to chill like we used to do regularly.

Right after landing, I headed straight into a meeting, but called Rayna on the way. Her parting words were still fresh in my head. I needed to make her feel a constant connection to me, even if that meant calling her like the fucking love-stricken adolescent I was when I last saw her. I’d do what I had to do.

The meeting was draining. This was a family owned business and according to my partner, Richard, these were the most difficult to resolve because of the emotional attachment and sense of entitlement the owners had to the business. We had our numbers set and they weren’t very flexible considering the timing and money needed to save it from an inevitable debunk status. I could tell from the start of the meeting this was going to be
long and drawn out.

We were invited to tour the casino that evening and asked to stay for dinner. They were trying to impress us into believing the business was promising and therefore worth more than what we were offering. That was one of the cons of being a rather new merger and acquisitions firm; if we were larger and more reputable, it would have been understood that our decision was based on what’s on paper—only their bottom line. But until we were a little matured in the business in terms of reputation, we had to rely on the art of compromise and negotiation savvy. Needless to say, I was all too happy when the meeting ended.

I walked through the door of the house and was contented immediately by its stateliness. The motif was very contemporary and comfortable enough to be considered family style. I saw the lights were on, and although the sun was going down, I didn’t believe they were left on by the property-keeper. Mark and Eric had to have arrived before me. I didn’t see traces of them until I dropped my things and made my way out of the foyer and closer toward the massive kitchen area that displayed a long white wooden island that sat at least six. There was a door across from the kitchen’s entryway that was open and I could hear boisterous laughter that sounded very familiar. I walked down into the basement where I found the two fellows, around the pool table en route.

“It’s me, bitches,” I sang as I skipped down the steps.

“Azmir, baby, please let me tea bag you to express my gratitude for this pad!” Eric exclaimed as I approached him and gave him some dap. “Bro!”

“Oh, no! I’ll blow him first for that Jacuzzi out on the deck!” Mark shouted just before I gave him some love as well. “Do you know how many young and firm AKAs I can fit in there tonight?”

“I’ll exonerate both of your acts of kindness and accept a simple
thanks
instead. From the look of the stubbles on both of you, I’d have carpet burns for a week.” I put both my palms in the air, gesturing a no thanks. It was good to see them. They both held whiskey glasses. “So what y’all sippin’ on?”

“Dude! There’s a fully loaded bar. I’ve started off with brandy. This shit is quality. Fuck!” Mark craned his neck back, looking at the miniature glass. I knew the bar was fully loaded, I paid to have it that way.

“You know, men of my refined nature always enjoy scotch. It’s delicious, bro!” Eric raised his glass in the air as I walked over to the bar to make my selection.

“So what does the agenda look like this week for you guys?” I turned my attention back to the shelves, looking for a tumbler. Mark pointed my attention over the sink and I grabbed a whiskey glass. “What type of Greek function is this?” I poured my Armagnac and returned to the cipher at the pool table.

“Our bicentennial. There is supposed to be nearly five hundred confirmed attendees. And I’ve remembered my rubbers,” Mark beamed.

“Last I heard, AKAs were predominately sisters. I thought you didn’t do them anymore, bruh,” I teased.

Eric burst into laughter. “That man is so fucking horny that he would stick his two inches into a Cheshire’s pussy!”

The liquor had obviously settled into these two. Mark gave a hard dismissive wave. “I still love my sisters, you know. They’re bodies are like none other,” Mark defended.

“Now, I don’t know about that one. I’ve seen some Asian sisters with tits and ass for miles and would put a Tanika and Kyisha to shame,” Eric argued.

“I have a few of my Caucasian beauties who have the bodies of goddesses—tits, ass, ankles and wrists! At the end of the day pussy is pussy, riiiiight?” Mark stroked the air by winding his pelvis area.

“I bet you can’t even see your dick over that goddamn meatball, man! Didn’t we talk about you working out? I thought you got a membership at your local gym? Shit, you know you can always come over to rec center and I’ll hook you up with one of our personal trainers. The ladies are going to look at you like you’re a geriatric pervert, man,” I scolded Mark as I was perched on a bar stool, and mostly because he’d lost his dad to heart disease when we were all in undergrad together.

His father was young and so was his grandfather when he had expired a couple of decades before. I didn’t like that risk hanging over one of my best friends’ head. I could never express it to him that way. Men go the alternative route, we take jabs to express our feelings and fears. It adds pressure and is a manipulative method, but effective nonetheless.

Mark snapped, “Fuck you, Jacobs! If I had your pesos, I’d fucking looking like a damn Greek god, too! You have a goddamn chef who cooks for you, a personal trainer who pushes you in the gym at your beckon call and a—” 

“…a bad ass African American woman who is the epitome of a fucking Aphrodite, complementing his Adonis,” Eric chimed in, interrupting Mark’s weak ass argument. “Damn, that woman! She still haunts me in my wet dreams. When I think of how she shook her curves on that stage the night of your birthday bash, Jacobs, I get a boner!”

“Oh, fuck you, too, Eric! This conversation is not about me and my affinity for Caucasian sisters. And by the way, Rayna
is
a great catch, Jacobs. But hell, I’d have her too, if I could afford it!” Mark practically shouted. He was getting emotional, per usual. I tried to stifle my laughter, but couldn’t.

“Why thank you, Mr. Richardson. I appreciate your approval of my pussy,” I jeered evenly to Mark who, I knew after just a few more drinks, would become indignant and I was not up to calming his drunk ass down. I turned to Eric. “And to you, Gerrity. You can dream about my girl all you like…and feel free to include your palm to finish yourself off, but as soon as you come sniffing around her, I’m crackin’ your ass.” I gave him a warning glare. Mark toppled over in laughter from Eric choking on his
drink. I guess he thought I’d forget about his grievances with his wife that included her scent a few months ago. “So when do the affairs begin, tomorrow?”

“No, there’s a
Meet and Greek
tonight…fully stocked bar. You should come along, bro. It’ll be a nice change of pace for you. You know deep down you’ve always wanted to be an Alpha man,” Eric announced with haughtiness. He was nuts.

“Oh, nah. If I
were
Greek material, I’da been a
Q Dog
. I’m too animalistic to be pretty.” I threw my tongue out like a dog, just like the Omegas do. With a scoff, Mark waved me off and Eric shook his head in contempt. They knew I was joking, I was too wrapped up in the streets to appreciate the benefits and culture of a fraternity.
Shit
, I’d created
The Clan
. I was good.

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