Hardly two weeks later after my presentation, I received the news that Jacobs approved our proposal and we began moving in right away. A week or so after, Michelle and I went to Cobalt with Britni and April from undergrad and two friends of theirs. Michelle had been dying to go for months and she finally made it happen. It felt good getting out for a night on the town with the girls. I hadn’t been out in months and lately I’d been so busy with setting up the new practice. We were due to open the following week and I was drained of signing off for supplies, salaries, insurance, construction, and other contracts. On top of preparing for the new location, I was expected to continue with my responsibilities back at the central station. I didn’t complain, instead I took advantage of the learning opportunity.
That night I threw on skinny jeans, a sexy taupe silk camisole, and over the knee brown suede boots and paired them with a cream blazer. I left the office so late that Friday evening that I missed my hair appointment. My hair was full of loose wavy curls from my last trip to the beauty salon so I just threw it up in a trendy loose ponytail, slipped on my extra-large hoop earrings, and applied a little make up. Even if I didn’t have the benefit of time, I wanted to look the part seeing that I hadn’t been out with the girls in so long. Although they were primarily Michelle’s friends, I grew to tolerate them—and them, me—even more after that fight with Tiny and her crew back in undergrad.
We had a V.I.P. booth that Michelle reserved, which was quite nice. The booths were gargantuan mobile float-like fixtures. They had to be reserved in advance because they were so large, that if not carefully placed on the floor, the patrons standing or dancing on the floor wouldn’t be able to see the stage. However, those seated in the booths could see the entire room. They were something I’d never seen at any club. There were only three on the floor this night and they were strategically positioned. It made you feel like royalty because everyone wanted to know who was in those grand booths. We soaked it up by ordering food and drinks and sharing in laughter.
In between laughter and screams, Michelle bit out, “Damn! What’s taking that waiter so long?” as she looked down and around the main floor frantically searching.
With a huff she announced, “I’m going to the bar myself.”
She got up, trekked down the stairs of the booth onto the dance floor, and walked over to the bar. The girls continued talking, laughing, and poking fun at some of the other patrons. My phone vibrated on my hip and I checked it to see it was Richard. He didn’t call but he did text me asking if he could see me.
How could he even dare try to see me again? He should have been inhaling my getaway fumes because I was done.
I sucked my teeth and then suddenly heard, “Look who I ran into, Rayna…” My brain registered Michelle’s shrilling right away.
I glanced up to see this tall, chocolate and lean man before me with broad shoulders and an arresting gaze that pinned me to the back of my seat. My pulse quickened and I felt a pull between my legs never experienced by the mere sight of a stranger. I was lost in space for a moment drinking in Mr. Azmir Jacobs. He smiled from ear to ear exposing his pearly white teeth and how sexy his smile was. I took my time insufflating the divine scent of him. I couldn’t figure out the fragrance, possibly a delicious miscellany of them. My breath caught and I immediately found myself flustered.
“Hello, ladies,” he greeted in a masculine baritone pitch that sang melodies to my libido. He turned back to me, “It’s good to see you again, Ms. Brimm,” extending his hand.
“Please call me Rayna. The pleasure is all mine.”
I extended my arm as well and we shook hands very casually but I felt a surge of energy emanating from his tightened grip. My eyes were glued to him the whole time; I couldn’t redirect them even if I wanted to. There was something more relaxed about his appearance this night. Maybe it was because he had no handlers around him or because he wasn’t dressed formally in his suit. The top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone sans the tie; the after work hours look.
“How’s the moving process coming along?” he asked and I noticed his lively eyes that were in sync with his words. If his question was disingenuous I wouldn’t have been the wiser.
“It’s as expected. You know…with the signing away of your life and making sure every detail goes as planned. No major complaints so far. Thanks for asking.”