Love Lost

After clearing my throat, mustering my wits, I said, “Well…goodnight, Sharon. I’ll see you in the morning,” and walked out.

Thursday came and I was nervous as hell. I got up that morning and hit the treadmill like always. This particular morning I did an extra half hour; I’d gotten this burst of energy out of nowhere. I hadn’t been out on a real date in so long; I had to ask Michelle to help me remember. We spent almost a half hour trying to recall.

It was January so I put on a grey two-piece suit. The pencil mini showed the contour of my shape so perfectly. I’d gotten my hair done the previous night in an up do. I figured for work I’d wear small, conservative earrings but for dinner, I would wear a pair of hoops for a more casual look. All day I had an extra pep in my step. I wanted to share my excitement with Sharon but decided to not only keep it to myself just in case it went horribly wrong, but also to keep it professional; I didn’t want to compromise that with my subordinates.

I got a page at about three p.m. from Sharon, informing me that a Mr. Jacobs was on line two. I tensed up when I heard her say his name because I didn’t want the fact of him calling to be the subject of lunch time chatter among the staff but I soon realized she didn’t know who Azmir was by name.

“Good afternoon, Rayna Brimm speaking,” I greeted.

“Ms. Brimm, I’ll be there to pick you up at five p.m. Please don't tell me you have plans to work late…” Azmir’s metropolitan twang reared and suddenly currents of excitement zapped through my body. It was my first time experiencing his husky voice over the phone.

I wonder where he’s from…

“Well, according to my warrant the time was very rigid. I was about to see my last patient. I should be done a little after four p.m. Is that too much of a chase for your hunt?” I teased.

“No. That just leaves more time for me. I’ll see you soon.” And with that we ended our conversation.

All I could think of were the possibilities. And all I kept telling myself was to calm down and take it easy, after a couple of hours with him the charm would dissipate along with my controlled sense of hope. He encountered you for the first time dancing…half-naked. His expectations go no further than seeing if your exhibitions are as flexible as your limbs. As much as I didn’t want to relent to my pessimistic heeding, I had to protect myself at all cost.

When four p.m. rolled around, I was wrapping up with my patient. I’d planned to be done a lot sooner so that I could freshen up but Mrs. Chapman wasn’t having it. She wanted to talk my head off between each stretching technique. After leaving the spa room, I headed to my office, locked the door and retreated into the bathroom. On a mission, I washed up, changed my shirt, applied a little make up, and sprayed myself down with body spray and perfume…but not too much. Lastly, I switched my earrings.

As I was walking out to clear off my desk, Sharon paged me telling me that a Mr. Jacobs wanted to come back. I thought to myself, “What the hell?” I told her to send him back and then remembered my door was closed and locked. In a dash, I unlocked and opened the door, after which I went back to my desk to clear it for the day.

A few seconds later, I heard “knock-knock”.

“Ms. Brimm, Mr. Jacobs is here to see you,” Sharon announced from the door.

When I looked up and saw Azmir, I did a double take. His Adonis took my breath away at first glance. He wore dark designer jeans—I knew they were designer because the quality was premium—with it, a black turtleneck sweater under a grey blazer with elbow patches and crisp white classic shell-toe Adidas.

Shit…he dresses better than I do or at least as well!

There was a hidden smirk on his face. I couldn’t read it but it looked damn good on him. When his scent invaded my nostrils, those currents had returned.

“Thanks, Sharon,” I said dismissing her. She would’ve stayed until she thought of a reason to stay longer.

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