We shared a hearty laugh.
We took the elevator to the fourteenth. She opened the doors to the suite and I was immediately impressed. The room glowed from the soft lighting bouncing from the off-white color of the walls, carpet, furniture and many of the décor. The living area had a step down balcony with a crazy view of the mountains. The amazing thing is you didn’t have to go out to the balcony to enjoy it, the windows were large enough to see it all from inside. The furniture was trimmed in brass and other pieces were made of oak wood. It was laced with a butler’s pantry and two mini bars. I went into the bedroom and found a huge canopy bed, ceiling-to-floor mirrors, walk-in closet, and a bathroom decorated with marble walls, sink and floor. This was nice. Not to mention, a far cry from my last time here. On second thought I realized I’d never had a suite, just a room.
As I came from taking a call in the bedroom, I saw her waiting by the couch in the living room with a glass of champagne. I could tell bubbly from a mile away. She asked, “Do you like it?” as soft music played from the stereo.
That night I heard Jamie Foxx, The Isley Brothers, Tony, Toni, Tone’, Sade, Teddy Pendergrass, Ledisi, The Whispers and countless others I'd never forget. Rayna had her game on. I took the glass and sipped it.
“You're really trying to get me there, huhn?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m trying to relax you. It is…or was your birthday. That reminds me, I have a gift for you.
Take off your jacket and relax while I get it.” With that, she left the room. And as I did as she asked I heard Jamie Foxx’s “Storm” where he croon about puddles in the bed and the weatherman predicting rain. I chuckled inwardly about the analogy between sex and the weather.
I continued to admire the room as I stretched back on the sofa. A few seconds later Rayna returned with a tan gift box with a white ribbon. I could tell it was rather weighty by the sound it made when she placed it on the coffee table. She sat it directly in front of me while I sat up on the couch and gave a nod toward the box gesturing to open it. I loosened the ribbon and lifted the lid to find a brass lion in intricate carvings that had to have weighed ten pounds, at least, and stood erect with each of its muscles cut skillfully to emphasize its strength and armor. The lion’s facial expression was calm yet unapproachable, immediately causing me to feel relieved that I wasn’t face-to-face with it in a real-life setting. Oddly, I found myself hypnotically fixated into the figurine’s eyes caught in its sovereignty. It was chilling.
As I continued to observe the lion, my hand rubbed against impressions along the ribcage. I turned my attention to it and saw there was an eloquent inscription that read “Azmir’s reflection”.
Before I could ask what it signified she sat down next to me and murmured, “It’s the meaning of your name. Your parents must have had premonitory abilities because your name means resembling a lion. And how eerie is it that you are just that among the people around you? You are a leader and command the authority of and allegiance to those around you.”
She reached over me to touch the lion that I held in my hands affording me a better experience of her fragrance. Her soft fingers lingered over the stature appraisingly as she continued, “Note the fierceness in his stance and the prepotency in his eyes. This is you. Your dominance. Your supremacy. Your parents must have known.” I could tell she meant every word because her eyes retreated while she spoke. When they returned she realized her recent flight and shook her head slightly, shrugged her shoulders and snorted softly, “Well, at least that’s what those around you say…and what I feel while in your presence.”