An hour or so into the party the D.J. asked me to take the stage. I threaded my way there through the crowd. I noticed Mark climbing the steps and joining me up there. He had a few words to share. I wasn’t ready for an emotional rant.
He said, “Jacobs…Azmir…Divine…whatever you’re calling yourself these days. Tonight we salute you on your birthday and your impressive passage into a new socioeconomic status. You’ve conquered the streets then moved on to marketing and now you’ve added corporate America to your resume.” He then turned toward the audience and continued, “Who else do we know that has, at their party, about half the guests drug dealers, an old college professor, members of government, rappers like Jay Z, Common, Kanye, Lil’ Jon, Snoop, Dre, Nelly, and the like, members of the National Basketball Association, National Football League, two professional boxers, several comedians and actors? I mean, really! Only one man can have all of this and be a friend of mine. We salute Mr. Azmir Divine Jacobs!”
The place went crazy. I was so touched that I let his ass live on that drug dealer comment. I didn’t want to confirm his suspicions. But I’m sure my goons wanted to snipe his ass right where he stood.
As he left the stage, almost on cue the D.J. played a Hov cut. The photographers started flashing their cameras in my face. The bright lights were killing my buzzed eyes. This chick…a dancer came out of nowhere wearing big shades and a tan trench coat over lots of gold. She was spinning toward the other side of the stage where Jay was. Where did he come from? I was hoping this wasn’t Jay’s girl performing the way that they do at shows, but for me. She’s dope as hell, but I wasn’t with that shit!
I heard Jay on the mic say, “It ain’t for everybody!” The beat dropped hard. The woman came back toward me handing me a camera. She carried a familiar scent. She mouthed, “Take my picture,” and had this striking look on her face. It wasn’t Jay’s girl—it was my girl—Rayna! My mouth flew open just as she said, “Let’s not even talk about it. Let’s go!” The word surprise doesn’t even describe the emotion I felt. That’s when it hit me. I was getting my own private dance from Ms. Brimm.
These dudes are crazy for thinking this shit up! I thought, even through my drunken gaze.
She tossed her shades and swung off her coat. The number she wore hugged her body perfectly. I felt my erection come on. The little gold coochie panty-shorts and bra to match with the stilettos had me going. She swayed her hips and gyrated around me like I had never seen. The crowd was all the way live with her performance. She moved perfectly with the beat and teased me lip syncing “I see your face. You wanna touch it…” At one point in the dance, she threw her leg over my shoulder and invited me to smell her. I was so aroused it hurt.
Every time the song called out the word “lights” there were about a hundred flashes hitting us. Although she didn’t attempt to lip sync the song there were a few lines she emphasized by mouthing. At the end of the song, her movements sped up and she ended it on the floor crawling to me acting out the lyrics like a beautiful analogy. But it was a bit of sexual suggestion mixed with the message of the song. She looked me dead in the eyes so seductively. As she did this, Jay added a few closing lines to the track as Rayna was sprawled out on the floor reaching out to me in an act of desperation. She mouthed the last ‘oh-o-o-oh’s’ of the song.