Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (21 page)

It was still there. The black sedan with tinted windows was still parked near my house. It was at the same radius, but certainly in clear view. I jumped into my car and sped off to Long Beach City for the salon.

While under the dryer, I’d gotten a ping from my phone for my calendar. I went into the app and saw that some time ago I’d scheduled a reminder to visit my brother, Akeem. He had visiting hours on Fridays and I hadn’t seen him in months. Considering my current gloomy state, it would be nice to take a short trip over to Jersey and surprise him with a visit, but a projected Friday would be best, insuring a better state of mind for me. I’d just sent him money a week or so ago so I knew he understood that I still had his back, but there’s nothing like a visit. I booked my flight, hotel, and car rental there in the salon.

After making the flight and car rental arrangements, I sulked. I couldn’t get Azmir out of my head. His smile. His company. His attentiveness. His love faces. His betrayal.

The glimpse of a tall bombshell with long legs, strutting her way to a stylist chair caught my attention. She was beautiful and with warm ebony skin…like Dawn Taylor’s. Her strut was powerful, enough to capture my attention and all of a sudden, I could conclude that she knew her presence was riveting, she was fully aware of what her catcall walk conjured from unsuspecting people. She wanted to claim the attention of others, of men. I wondered if that was Dawn’s subconscious intention as well.

This girl in the salon had long natural hair that was still wet and glistening from just having been washed. Her length was nearly to the small of her back. I chuckled, suddenly thinking how Azmir liked my natural length of hair. He made that clear months back by the way he reacted to it, constantly running his fingers through it. He also was very adamant about me not wearing scarves or bonnets to bed. When I explained that it could be detrimental to the health of my hair, he had his housekeeper change the pillow sheets from linen to silk. It honestly never bothered me, his possessiveness. To the contrary, it felt good. Comforting.

But not his betrayal. His cheating tore into my chest and jutted out like a ragged knife. I still bled. Everywhere I went my pain and gloom accompanied me. Just like now. I just caught the ebony beauty lick her lips seductively. I suddenly wondered if that single act of enticement would tempt Azmir. Would he find her aggressiveness attractive? Would he kiss her, too?

“Cookie…” I heard in the recesses of my conscious as I obsessively eyed the dark skinned seductress in the chair across the room.

“Cookie, I know the dryer is on high, but it shouldn’t have you deaf. COOKIE!”

My eyes snapped up as my trance popped and I found a restless Adrian glaring down on me. Adrian was dark himself, rich brown skin with legs just as long as Azmir’s. He had sharp European features such as his protruding nose and slender lips. His dark brown eyes were slanted, giving him a bit of an exotic appearance overall. He was gorgeous, just not available to me—or any other woman for that matter.

“Crap, Adrian! I was caught in a daze. You scared the bejesus outta me!” I snapped at him.

“Honey, how many times do I have to call you to call your eyes from Saneese over there. The way your eyes are glazed, you’d think you munched on carpets,” Adrian gave me a tentative gaze.

“You’re ridiculous,” I hissed.

“And you love pickles…like me, Cookie. So what are we doing with this wild mane of yours?” he asked, raking his long fingers through my untamed tresses.

I chewed the inside of my lips, still unable to shake my gape from the chocolate beauty.

Within seconds, I spit out, “Cut it off. All of it.” I don’t know where the emboldened decision came from, but it flew from my mouth sans the approval from my brain. “Yeah…cut it off,” I nodded affirmed.

Adrian must have aged in all of the twenty seconds it took for him to process my request. Though he was as brown as they come, his face was ashen in shock.

“Cooooookie!!! What did that fine ass millionaire do?”

I felt his mention was more of an accusation against Azmir than a question. Of course, that was not up for discussion.

I sputtered, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been wanting something new for a while. Something bold…something sexy. It’s time,” my tone was lofty to help guard the façade.

I didn’t want my mask to slip, so my righteous indignation stare stayed glued onto Adrian’s.

“But you said your man loved your long and wild mane. We’ve been training it for months…no weaves…no braids. You said he—”

“…doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter!” I caught the jerking of heads in our direction in my peripheral, causing me to lower my voice. However, my glare never faltered. “I’m your paying client. And. I. Said. To. Cut. It. All. Off!” I lifted a brow to emphasize my instance.

Adrian caught my adamancy eventually. He slowly raised a shaky hand to his mouth for a few seconds, still processing my erratic plans with my hair. He was right; I did say that I would focus on nurturing my hair for the purposes of lengthening it. And that was because of Azmir. But Azmir wasn’t to be considered anymore. I almost felt bad about pulling the
who’s paying?
card on him. Adrian didn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of my love war with Azmir Jacobs—or whatever the hell I could term it.

Adrian dramatically closed his eyes in slow speed, opening them again with new found resolve. “Okay, Cookie. We’ll cut it off something fabulous.” He acquiesced with a slow, impassive nod as he reached for my hand to assist me from the chair.

An hour later, I walked out of the salon with the autumn sun kissing my neck. It felt good, bold—new! And I loved it. I needed it. I needed a diversion from my reality. From the pain. Adrian cut and styled my hair an asymmetrical length with one side reaching my ear and the other beneath my chin. He styled it so well that my wavy curls were silky and bouncy, almost resembling a texturized style. I was contented, even if only temporarily. My first anti-A.D. move. And I was damned proud. 

LaWanda postponed our weekly Bible group study meeting earlier that week and rescheduled it for this evening. I decided it was best to get out of the house to keep my sanity, so I headed over to her place for a lovely Bible study. The ladies were crass as usual, but a much needed distraction. To my good fortune, no one asked about Azmir. I guess time does wonders for trivial matters such as shacking with a tall, chocolate, handsome, and apparently rich man.

My fortune continued on Sunday when no one was pressed to sit next to me again. I liked my privacy and keeping a distance between associates. Sad to say, since Michelle’s passing, the only person I could tolerate for more than an hour was Chanell and her crazy butt. While in church that Sunday, I laughed to myself, thinking of her and all of her outlandish ways. She was truly a delight and I made a note to call her to see if she wanted to hang out soon. Unless she felt otherwise, she was still a friend of mine.
I had hoped
.

Monday came around very emotionally for me. I’d stayed up the night before crying and menacing over my breakup with Azmir. My body craved him like a drug and my heart mourned the death of his presence. In all honesty, it hurt like hell that he hadn’t reached out to me. I thought he’d at least try to fight for another chance at
us
. Had he taken on his plan B—Dawn Taylor? Did he finally see what I feared, driving my decision to leave—that we were no good together? My heart weighed so heavy and not mention, the unnerving throbbing between my legs only added to my blues.

I managed through my workout with Tyler, but not without him noticing my lack of vigor. He didn’t say much other than he saw it and wasn’t happy with my performance. The remainder of the morning I coordinated the set up of the full staff meeting over at the rec center. They loaned us the large penthouse conference room that was one floor above Azmir’s administrative offices. I had Sharon and the intern running back and forth to set up the room while I saw my morning patients.

When noon rolled around, I was still in with a patient, but was cognizant of the time as I knew the staff meeting had begun. My superiors were informed of my layover appointment and that I would be at least thirty minutes late. I returned to my office at close to a quarter after and sat at my desk. I felt exhausted and melancholy. I scraped together my things, searching my drawers for a writing pad when I laid eyes on my iPad that Azmir had sent over last week. I’d forgotten all about it and seeing it lying there intensified my blues. My stomach fluttered and my soul felt void. “
I gotta be strong…move on!
” Blu sang in
I’ll Find A Way
. I repeated those lines like a mantra all the way out the door.

The lobby of the rec center was flooded with folks coming and going, mostly whisking through to the cafeteria. I’d seemed to be the only body with a leisure amble in the entry way. I saw young Mark Littlejohn, a front desk receptionist, assisting someone at the desk. He was the same kid who gave me a tour when I was vetting Azmir before I met him. The sight of him made me smile because Azmir would always call him
Young Littlejohn
, endearingly of course. He was a rather short, brown skinned, twenty something year old, bright eyed kid. He was always pleasant and extremely articulate. I knew Azmir got a kick out of his size and delivery, hence the humorous moniker. I didn’t stop to speak, but brushed past the desk instead, en route to the elevators.

I stood among the large, gathering crowd waiting at the bank of elevators for the car. When I heard the bell alerting its arrival I wondered if I’d be able to make this trip or have to wait for the next available one. The doors rolled open and to my and all the others waiting dismay, the elevator was packed, leaving room for no one.

And I saw him.

My heart began to race and my breathing hitched. He wore a meditative expression while engaging some woman who was speaking to him with animation. The sight of him was magnetic and downright breathtaking. His head slowly pushed up and his eyes found me immediately, almost as if he’d sensed my presence. Azmir’s gaze on me was sweltering and undeniably arresting. I froze in place. I noticed his lips slowly parting. Before I knew it, the elevator doors started to close, but he leaped forward, catching one with his hands, interrupting the process. He threaded around a few people, out of the elevator and over to me. I stood there trying to manage my equilibrium while soaking in his arousing and very familiar scent. He didn’t say anything, instead he grabbed me, taking me by the arm and towing me down the hall, opposite of the lobby doors.

I had no idea where he was taking me, but his strides were purposeful. It had all happened so fast. I knew the main gym room, weight rooms, basketball courts and other amenities were there on the main floor, but what else was down there I didn’t know. Before I knew it, he had taken me to the back of the building, returning greetings to at least a half a dozen people on the way. I was immediately reminded of that night in the club, after Azmir knocked out my dance partner. He had me flying through the air, trailing behind him. This wasn’t that dissimilar.

We eventually stopped at the service elevator. Azmir pulled out a key, calling it to the main floor. In no time, the door opened and he all but pushed me inside. When I looked him in the face for an answer, he wore a scowl as he pushed the key into the control panel and pushed a few buttons, causing the doors to close.

“What in the world are you—” I tried to ask about his bizarre behavior, but he launched at me, covering my mouth with his, hungrily devouring me, and in no time at all, causing a guttural groan that I didn’t even know was possible to escape me. Azmir’s tongue attempted each inch of my mouth as his arm slipped around to the small of my back, pushing my belly into his erection. For the first time in my life I’d been lain out by a kiss. My legs gave out and my arms dangled behind my limp frame as fulgurate spikes of endorphins ignited delightful feelings of euphoria in his strong arm. We kissed hard, needy, and wild for what seemed like an eternity.

He let go of my mouth and lowered his forehead against mine. Panting, he breathed, “Come home…today. I can’t take this bullshit anymore,” as his eyes were sealed.

I was momentarily muted, my body was still reeling from the taste of desperation on his lips. “Azmir, I…I—”

He grabbed me into his arms and, as I fluidly turned my back to him, trying to break loose, he grabbed me at the shoulder, wrapping his arm across my chest, pressing me into his hard, pounding chest. His right hand searched furiously for the entrance of my wrap around dress and when it did he quickly found his way down my panties and between my legs to my throbbing pearl. I gasped. I wasn’t steady on my feet from the exhilarating feeling of having his trained hands all over me again. My back arched and I grabbed the elevator walls, trying to steady myself as he rubbed and stroked until I could hear the swishing of my well-lathered sex. Went his lips and deft tongue touched my now exposed neck thanks to my hair cut, my body further melted into his lengthy frame. My head swung back and he rounded my neck with hit nibbling. I bit my lip to prevent from screaming. Not only were we in a public place, but I couldn’t give Azmir the satisfaction of me losing my mind after the way he had abandoned me.

He worked his finger inside my canal as his thumb deliciously circled my swollen pearl. I felt his head move down until his mouth was to my ear and felt his warm breath rushing through his moist mouth. “I’ve tried, Rayna. I swear, I’ve tried to do this your way. I’ve given you time to fucking return on your own,” he pleaded in my ear, adding to my lewd state. “Please, baby, I’m sick without you.”