“Grooming? You must have lost your fucking mind. Do you know anything about me?” I gave her a pointed glare.
“I’m a self-made man, one that has never needed anything from you but for you to show some patience, class, and to keep your goddamn legs closed.” I tried to digest the fact that she smacked the hell out of me.
“No! Me and my daddy made you. You weren’t shit before us and you ain’t gonna be shit now!” Tara yelled with tears streaming down her face. I knew that my words had stung but she needed to be brought back down to size, she was being demoted from wifee to family-friend, which meant she no longer had emotional privileges with me. Tara could no longer have those affecting outbursts.
I didn’t want this to get any uglier than it had already gotten so I headed for the door. I knew if that bitch tried to hit me again, I would’ve knocked her fucking block off. When she saw me heading towards the door she begged me not to go and even tried to grab me. She screamed her apologies and began to cry hysterically. I left her right where she stood.
That night I went to my crib in Pasadena and picked up some clothes. I knew this would be a long night of off the chart-phone ringing and possibly uninvited guests, namely Tara. I moved as swift as possible and was in and out in no time. After leaving the house, I went to the grocery store and picked up a few things to cook at my new spot in Marina Del Rey. When I arrived, I put everything away, popped in a Will Downing CD and jumped in the shower. I needed to relax, wash away the debris of the day.
After my shower, I went into the kitchen to start cooking. I hadn’t played chef in a minute. As I was cooking, considered how good it would be to have someone to cook for and oddly my mind ventured to Ms. Brimm. I looked at the clock that read ten thirty-eight p.m. I didn’t think that was too late so I decided to give her a call.
Mmmmm…hello?” Rayna said sounding seductive.
“Ms. Brimm,” I greeted with a big ole smile on my face. I’d hope I wasn’t interrupting her.
“Azmir?” She sounded a little dazed.
“…the one and only.”
“Hey. How ya doing?” She tried to perk it up.
“I’m chillin’. Did I disturb you?”
“Oh, no. I was sitting here reading and I guess I dozed off. I’m good.” I could tell she was still shaking the sleep off.
“I thought you’d be on the town…chilling with your girls or on a date or something…?”
“Naaaaaaah. My date tonight was Mr. Poitier by way of The Measure of a Man.” She giggled as though she was embarrassed.
So, she doesn’t like running the streets? That’s good to know, I thought to myself as I stirred the pot.
“I thought you were taking your girlfriend out?” I quizzed to make sure she knew I remembered why she said she couldn’t go out tonight.
“She ditched me for a hot date! Can you believe that? I turn down a date for her and she drops me for one. It’s a good thing we pushed it up or I would’ve been blue tonight,” she said not skipping a beat, which made me believe she was telling the truth.
“The nerve!” I joked and earned a sexy giggle.
“I know! She rescheduled for another night so, no sweat. So, what’s a businessman of your stature doing having enough time to call me on a Friday night? Don’t you have a dinner meeting or Hollywood event to get to?”
“I’m at a Hollywood event having dinner now,” I returned the humor.
“Oh, yeah? Where?”
“In my kitchen is where I’m having dinner and you’re the event.”
“Oh, yeah?” She snorted and we both laughed.
“What?” I mocked.
“You got jokes?”
“Nah…but…it would be better if it were reversed…” I breathed into the phone.
“What would be reversed?” she asked and then immediately fired back after catching on, “If your kitchen was the event and I was your…?” she stopped herself thinking out loud. “Cute, Mr. Jacobs…real cute.”