John, my assigned security detail, is standing guard by the door. My eyes bounce back and forth between Tara and Azmir. I idly wonder where he’s come from. He said he had a meeting in Culver City, which was nearly an hour away without traffic. And how did he know she was here in my office?
Trivia aside, he looks overwhelmingly dapper in his trousers, matching vest, crisp white dress shirt, and brilliant blue tie, once again stretching the bounds of virile sophistication. I suppose he left his suit jacket wherever he’s just flown from. I rarely see him in three-piece suits. Perhaps that’s the etiquette when meeting with a bank. His height and confident poise all work together, giving him the classic authoritative and commanding appearance he radiates. I notice the slight swelling in his bottom lip that must have come from our altercation last night.
Jesus, Rayna! I internally berate myself.
“I’ve been patient, I’ve been generous, and I’ve recently learned I’ve even taken risks that I wasn’t aware of, trying to soften the blow of our separation.” Azmir inches nearer to her and bends his lengthy frame to get close to her face. “If I have to tell you to stay the fuck away from her once more, I swear on my life, you will see a cold and unrelenting side of me that will haunt you until your fucking death.”
His Brooklyn tongue and tone is chilling, similar to his warning to me earlier in his car, but this time more vile. A chill runs through me.
Tara gasps and I can see her cringe in her seat. I doubt that she was expecting this type of response from him. She isn’t alone.
“I was about to leave, Azmir,” Tara shrieks.
Just that quickly, her demeanor changes, like it did last night when she learned that I didn’t know Azmir was not her child’s father. She’s now afraid; no more cockiness coming from her direction as she shakily stands, gathering her purse. Tara heads for the door as John’s opening it, and in true melodramatic fashion, like her father, she leaves me with parting words.
“Rayna,” she calls out to me, causing me to rise in a knee-jerk reaction. My nerves are likely just as frayed as hers now. So, I’d assume. With my full attention, she warns, “The wings can be lonely, but it’s only temporary…until you leave the stage.”
In the next beat, “Tara,” I call out, “…my wing days are over. I’m in the starring role now. Have a nice life.” I offer a soft smile. “I plan to.”
Tara wears her smuggish smirk as she leaves. Azmir’s on her heels after looking over to me with his nose still flared and jaw still flexing. “I’ll be outside at five, waiting to go to your session.”
Awww...great! Just what I needed. I had hoped that he would grant me time alone this afternoon.
It would take days, if not weeks to process all that has gone down over these past few days. The blows just keep coming, relentlessly.
I try to continue my day without breaking down and I hope and pray for no more unexpected visits or revelations. Azmir sends lunch over, as usual, eliminating the need for me to go out, no doubt. I haven’t heard from him since he left my office with Tara and I’m mortified at the prospect of telling him we had a peeper in our bedroom last night during one of our most sacred times together.
How could she watch two people have sex—her ex no less?! Is she psycho?
I have to tell him. No matter how hard it will be, he has a right to know. I mean, I would want to know. I’m still pissed with him, but that doesn’t counteract his need to be made aware of Tara’s major breach of our privacy.
The afternoon runs through much less eventful. I meet with the other therapists to confer my candidate recommendations and am surprised that I’m not alone in my selection. During my final patients, anxiety collects in my belly about my looming conversation with Azmir. I’ve thought of several ways to break it to him; some elaborate and others more concise. It really doesn’t matter. It simply has to be done.
At five minutes after five, I walk out of the office and to Azmir’s car where Ray is waiting for me with the door open. I slide in to find Azmir finishing a call.
“I’ll have to take a look at my schedule to see if I can fit the trip in.” He sighs, appearing exhausted, yet deliciously handsome in his three-piece suit. His compelling fragrance appeals to my libido. “I know, Kyle; I am fully aware of this. Yeah. No, I’m not saying that at all. What I am saying is that I will not make an unnecessary trip out there if you’re not ready to play ball. Unlike you, I don’t like being a bachelor; I have an all-consuming personal life that I’d like to maintain.” He gives a sexy chortle, I assume, in concert with Kyle on the other side of the phone. “Gotta go, Kyle.” He ends the call.
Azmir turns to me with a hint of a smile. I’m not sure what, if anything, he’s going to say.
5-4-3-2-1...
“Azmir, Tara saw us last night,” I let the words spill from my mouth, giving him no eye contact, instead fixating my gaze on the back of Ray’s headrest. “All of it.”