“Well, there has to be some basic elements that you require…” he was urging me to continue.
I gave him a long look trying to read his face. Where are these questions coming from? Does he really want to know? I looked down at the cobble blocks we stood on until I decided to answer.
5-4-3-2-1… “Honesty. Just be real with me. Nothing else tops that. And treat me like your equal; not a deficient partner. Don’t feel that my “place” or “part” is any less important than yours. If you can give me truth then you’re giving me unlimited opportunities that can include loving you completely or walking away with my dignity intact. That’s all.” It was a loaded answer but he asked for it.
The waiter arrived with his drink. Azmir rose his glass. “To honesty and truth. May they be paths where we intersect,” he spoke ardently without the smile. I don’t know if it was the liquor or what, but I believed we connected again right then and there.
“Thanks again, Azmir, for the car.” I had to address it. I had been riding it and well over the past couple of days and couldn’t be more in love with it. The car had more amenities than I could comprehend. Michelle was anxious to get behind the wheel and I couldn’t deny her of the opportunity the day before.
“Indeed. I can tell by your smile that you’re enjoying it.”
“You can tell? How?” I was curious.
“Women aren’t concerned with what’s under the hood of a car. You guys are typically sold by the aesthetics and features. The S550 is a hell of a car but it didn’t convey the propriety that I was going for. I’m glad it suits you. It says sophistication, like you do.”
I couldn’t help but drink his words in. They were flattering to say the least. We chatted for what seemed like minutes, being more loquacious than ever. It may have been over an hour when Sebastian walked up on us. He was with a Caucasian male who was asking, “Oh, is this her?”
Sebastian looked like steam was piping out of his ears. I didn’t know what pissed him off more, the fact that I’d been scarce all evening and he had to come looking for me or that he couldn’t express his anger without embarrassing himself publically.
“I’ve been looking all around for you.” Sebastian’s tone was controlled.
The Caucasian fellow interjected, “Rayna? Hi, I’m Paul! I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad you guys could come and hang out tonight.” I shook his hand and smiled before cutting my eyes back to Sebastian who was glaring profusely at Azmir.
“I hope you enjoyed the featured artist and the party?” Paul continued with enthusiasm.
“I did. Thanks, Paul,” I said with a minor giggle thinking how I couldn’t remember hearing a live performance because I was too preoccupied with Azmir.
“You’ve been out here all night making friends?” Sebastian facetiously asked.
Paul had to have felt the negative vibes Sebastian was giving off because it was so damn thick that one could choke from his fumes. Azmir didn’t move.
“Well, she’s in great company, Dr. Adams! This is Mr. Azmir Jacobs. He’s one of the owners of the venue,” Paul interjected. “Mr. Jacobs, this is Dr. Sebastian Adams. He’s my children’s pediatrician out in Venice Beach.”
Azmir nodded while staring impassively back at Sebastian. Sebastian proffered his hand and Azmir obliged.
“Sweetheart, I’m ready to take you home now. I told Paul about your headache that’s keeping you from enjoying the full spectrum of the night. I’ve kept you long enough. Let’s call it a night,” Sebastian attempted a facade.