Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (42 page)

“
Shit.
Dinner!” he exclaim as he bolts out of bed going for his swimming trunks. He runs downstairs. I slowly rise from the bed and find my way into the shower where I tortured myself even more about the potential end of my life with Azmir. 

I made my way downstairs to find two people in the kitchen. I dashed into the small office where I found Azmir on his laptop.

“Who are those folks in the kitchen?”

He turned around to me and chuckles, “Chefs. I didn’t bring you out here for you to cook. I had to tell them it’s okay to let themselves in. So be cognizant of that during meal times.” He searches my eyes. “You look tired.”

“So do you.” I didn’t know where we stood after our copulatory standoff earlier.

He rubs his eyes with his thumbs, “A little. I’m gonna hit the shower. Dinner should be done soon.” Rising from his seat, he kissed me on the forehead before leaving the room.

We had dinner that night outside on the dining deck, under the Polynesian skies. My mood had improved slightly, but my dismal thoughts loomed. After dinner, Azmir had arranged for us to attend a show, but we were both exhausted from the travel that we agreed that we’d postpone the show to get some rest.

The next morning we were awakened by the ringing phone. Azmir unhooked his arms from my resting body to answer it. He didn’t say much and quickly got off.

“Brimm, you have a scheduled spa treatment on the water in twenty minutes. No bra is needed.”

I take a minute to process his words in all my grogginess. “I didn’t arrange for that.”

“I did. Now get up. You don’t want keep them waiting,” Azmir ordered in his morning groveled voice that liquefied my insides.

Fighting it off, I slowly stand and realize just how off kilter my body is. I showered and threw on a wraparound dress, minus the bra as Azmir had so effectively passed along.
 

When I arrive downstairs, I realized I had no idea where this would be taking place. Before I could go back up to ask Azmir, he belts from the bed upstairs, “Just out back on the beach.”

My massage was serene and relaxing, just what the doctor ordered. Azmir was incredibly thoughtful. The full body massage was for ninety minutes and the foot was for forty-five. It was in heaven on earth. Just as in The Bahamas, the sounds of the open air added to the milieu. With every muscle being relaxed and kneaded over, I thought of it being at the expense and provision of Azmir.
How could a man who puts so much thought into me have only one foot into our relationship?
Maybe Harrison had it all wrong. Besides, he had quite a few facts off, especially about Azmir spending
endless
nights at my place. But he was correct about Akeem and his record.

Oh, the agony!
 

After my spa treatment, I returned back to our bungalow where I found Azmir knee-deep into work in the living room. As soon as I walked through the door he put his finger up resigned to being caught working again.
 

“Washington, you’re being paid to know, not guess or assume. Is that the best you can give a man paying you the salary that I am? Do you know how many quality professionals are in your line of work with relatively half the pay? I don’t have time for internship-level antics. I fucking need deliverables—yesterday.”

I head up the stairs to change my clothes. I wanted some air and had to see the surrounding locales. I threw on a silk one piece dress that wrapped around my neck and exposed my entire back. When I returned back down to Azmir, he was at his laptop and jumped up when he saw me. He was still on the phone. “Hold on,” he snapped.

“I’m going in to town. I shouldn’t be long.”

“If you give me a minute, I can go with you.” He pointed to the phone, “I’m sorry. Something went wrong back at headquarters that needs to be rectified,” he says apologetically.

“Oh, that’s fine. I can use the alone time to sort my thoughts. You need anything?”
Did I really just say that? 

Azmir gazes at me, trying to find a crack. I maintain my poker face. I wasn’t ready to divulge Harrison’s consternate visit.
 

“Here,” he snarled before turning toward the safe there in the office and retrieving a wad of cash. He placed the crisp bills in my hand, not offering it but forcing it instead. “Take your phone.”

I gave a polite smile before leaving. Even in his irritable state, he is alluring. 

The market I visited in town was vibrant with natives selling their goods in an open outdoor hypermarket. Vendors sold everything from fresh produce, to island specialties, to beachwear, to souvenirs. I marveled at the figurines that were handmade from the locals, how beautifully carved the ornaments were and delicately engraved the jewelry was. I was in heaven in no time. I sampled the food, absorbed the music, and noted the ethnic beauty of the islanders.

At one end of the crowded market were a small group of people, giving a show of live music and dancing. This, of course, captured my attention and I found myself captivated, studying their techniques and counts. I sat there for a while, very entertained and reprieved with peace.

I rested my feet, admired the energy, and let my mind run free with random thoughts, and those not so indiscriminate. I thought of Michelle and how much she’d enjoy this, even more than I am. She’d enjoy the carefree atmosphere this place provided. That was Michelle, a natural free spirit. I think I was the only thing in her life that keep her attached to a reality that wasn’t agreeable to her free-styling nature. Guilt swept over me and once I again I was hit with the unpleasant revelation of being a burden to her. “
I’m improving, Shelly. I’m going to make it worth your investment in me
,” I whispered to myself, hoping that she’d catch the power in my decree wherever her free-flowing spirit rested. Suddenly, I regret not inviting Azmir. I would so love for him to share this explorative moment with me. 

As I am taking in all the retailers and merchandise, I get a ping, alerting me of a text message. I look to find Azmir informing me of dinner reservations in an hour. I wasn’t aware of dinner plans so I scurried along in the tent before heading back to the bungalow.

When I arrive, I see Azmir swimming in the waters below the house. He really looks like quite the athlete. His arms extend out like fins, motioning the water for movement. His back stays perfectly aligned as it flows over and into the water. It makes me wonder if that’s what he looks like when he’s over me, making love.
Wait!
Does he make love to me? He did say we’re two people who are living together,
fucking
monogamously. A pain struck my heart at the thought.
Is that how he really termed it?
Perhaps Harrison was right. Out of nowhere, I feel tears prickling down my face. I jump at the realization and fly upstairs to the bathroom, not wanting to be seen by Azmir in this state. I felt then that I had to tell him how I felt. 

As I’m in the shower I ask myself,
What exactly can I tell him? That I want to breakup?
I mean, breaking up is for people who are in bona fide relationships, not those who are just “fucking.” More tears.
What would my life be like without Azmir?
Exactly as it was before him: dull and uneventful. I could not care less about his money. His attention, thoughtfulness, and artful lovemaking was far more valued by my heart. He made me feel kept far beyond what his money can do. As I wept, I said a silent prayer, asking God for strength and to cease my wrestled mind. I knew in my heart that whatever the outcome of this thing with Azmir was, I’d survive it.

I heard Azmir outside in the bedroom, fumbling around and decided to finish up in the shower and fight to suppress my tears.

We had dinner that night on the beach, underneath the setting sun. The view was breathtaking as Azmir held my hand, walking me down to our secluded gazebo on the sand. We walked to a private table under a tent made with white sheer curtains tied to every spoke. There were about twelve in all. It was very exclusive. I noticed the other patrons were yards away with just umbrellas covering their tables. Under our hut, the table was set for two with a white linen table cloth and chair covers.

Azmir walks me over to my seat then takes his next to me. I’m taken and don’t try to hide it as I look over to him. He gives nothing away as he observes me as well. Two men come over to us almost immediately. One is dressed in wait-staff attire and the other in a suit.

“Mr. Jacobs, I’m glad to see you and Ms. Brimm have finally arrived. I am Aata, your host for tonight. And your waiter will be Ihu, here,” he points to the waiter who nods politely. “We’re going to start you off with drinks and your hors’ d’oeuvres will be out momentarily,” Aata informs before turning on his heels as Ihu remains and pours champagne in our flutes.

When the waiter leaves Azmir turns to me, “So, how was your massage, Rayna.”

I’m spun back into reality and caught off guard by his calling me by my first name. That typically happened when he was angry with me, or during sex, if then. 

“Very nice. I really appreciate the gesture. In fact, let me take the time to say thanks for this entire experience. It’s truly one of a lifetime, Mr. Jacobs.”

Azmir’s eyebrows narrow. I heard the build of sadness in my own voice. I felt like I was saying goodbye already.

“My pleasure,” he mutters puzzled. “And your expedition in town?” he asks while the waiter is placing our appetizers before us. Aata has also arrived with our drinks.

“That was beautiful. I thought of how nice it would have been had you come,” I admit as I look down at the spring rolls and duck kabobs that looked quite delicious. Azmir serves me first and then himself. I bite into the spring roll and my taste buds are all manic from the artful culinary experience that was occurring. I look over to Azmir and something hits me.

“Do you eat fast-food?”

He gives me an unwilled, sexy gaze as he finishes swallowing his food. “Where did that come from?”

“Well, when I think about it, I eat very well with you. And the fact that I’ve never seen you eat drive thru before. Not to mention you have a chef.”

He doesn’t break his gape as he says, “I haven’t had fast-food in quite a few years. Maybe three or so.”

“Why?”

“I got sick again after eating at my last fast-food restaurant. I went to the doctor to learn that my aging body no longer responds well to those types of foods.”

Hmmmm…interesting.

I continued my line of questioning, “So is that the reason for Boyd?”

I’m now super-intrigued. He continues looking at his plate as he considers my question. “It took some time to readjust my life so that I’d have the time to sit for a meal. My doctors stayed on me about lifestyle alterations. Things started taking shape in my life and I finally made the decision to hire a cook.”

“Things? Such as?”

He snorted. He wasn’t used to me asking questions and neither was I, but I had the sudden urge to learn more about this man. “Such as me working primarily at the rec and building my team there, ending my former relationship, finding a new place, and meeting you.”

Wow
. I couldn’t deny how good it felt hearing myself included in his new and improved life.

“Your positive changes has seeped over into my life. I do eat better, obviously, and your personal trainer has given me the results I’ve always dreamed of.”

“You look amazing. You always have, but there’s nothing wrong with change,” he utters slowly, causing those electrical-like currents to flash through me. I muzzle my libido. I can’t afford to slip into an intimate situation with Azmir. I need to let him know that we need a change.

“Speaking of change, I’m sure you’ve taken note of mine over the past couple of days.”

He nods. “Yes, Ms. Brimm, I most certainly have and I haven’t been too pleased about it.”

Whoa!
Talk about direct.

Our dishes are being cleared for the next course. I’m ansty and hope that he can’t sense the fidgety movement of my hands and legs underneath the table. I wait as Aata clears the table and Ihu places our hot plates in front of us. I continue with my introspect, feeling it’s do or die.

“Azmir, I’ve lost my footing here. You know I’m on a journey of repairing my deficiencies...and knowing my place in relationships is important to that process.” I get stumped at my words, but know that I must forge ahead as I give a deep sigh, “I guess I’ve been feeling a little insecure about our relationship.” I thought about what I’d just said and thought to clarify. “I mean, I’m not demanding anything by saying this, but more...definition would be appropriate, I think.” I'm feeling reduced because I can’t find my articulation. It doesn’t help that Azmir is looking at me
and
the waiter
and
the food as he eats as he listens. He still hasn’t responded.
Is he leaving me hanging?
How do I rebound from this?

“I got you,” is all he retorts and I’m furious. He wouldn’t have found that response from the Washington guy he was chewing out earlier acceptable. So why should I? Once again, I fight back the tears.
 

“Try the Mahi-Mahi,” Azmir says as he brings a forkful to my face. I clear the contents of my mouth and then rinse it down with Pinot before tasting his fish. It was mouthwatering.