“So, you were acquainted in the record industry?” I pose as a question to Azmir.
As much as I try to conceal it, Azmir can pick up my true inquiry. “When you grow up with well-known hip-hop artists, you kind of get to know their circle. Me, with my hustler’s spirit, I made friends with every mover and shaker that I could.” Azmir raises my hand and kisses the back of it. I’m glad he didn’t follow my seating arrangement and sat at the other end as the head. He even insisted that I kept my seat at the head. “It was fun…a good waste of time while I was trying to find myself.”
“And not just rappers, there’s lots of talent out of the BK,” Lenny corrects. “Remember when Spike was shooting Do the Right Thing, back in ‘88-‘89, on Quincy and Lex?” Azmir nods. “Yo’, that shit was mad fun! They tried to keep us out the area, but we snuck in the warehouse and hid out for hours just to see what was going on.” I notice the nostalgic smile that crests up Azmir’s face. “Brooklyn was fun back then.” That last comment is made dolefully. Azmir’s eyes collapse into his lap, clearly in the moment with Lenny.
I have so many follow up questions to that, but settle on, “So, where’s your brother, Lenny?”
“He’s in ATL,” Lenny answers with a mouthful.
Oh! “Is Liz your sister?” I ask, recalling my easily-made-friends with the woman with spiked hair from the party in New York last summer. The one who informed me of Tara’s cheating on Azmir.
“Yeah,” Lenny confirms. “I forgot…she told me she met you.”
Okay…now I’m making connections. It’s good to see that Azmir has a structure other than the Harrisons. What a bunch they are.
“So, Evelyn, do you still have your dance schools in Long Island?” Azmir asks Jackson’s guest—because it’s hard to reference her as his date when likely she’s old enough to be his mother and mine.
“Yes. We just closed on a new property near the water. Membership has been expanding leaps and bounds,” Evelyn smiles.
So she’s a dancer?
I notice how Jackson doesn’t even acknowledge her statement as he delves into his food.
“Rayna dances. She belongs to a school herself,” Azmir beams.
“Really?” Evelyn’s eyes light up. “What type of dance do you do?”
“Well, it’s more like what I’m into,” I offer a disclaimer. “I’ve not been formally trained, but I’m instructed by a well-trained dancer. And I do a little bit of everything, from hip-hop, jazz, ballroom, salsa, and even a little tap.”
Evelyn’s brows arch like a grandmother waiting to be impressed. She isn’t rude, just…mature.
“Oh, was she…” Jackson asks, clearly just hit with revelation. “…the dancer at your birthday party?”
I chuckle and Azmir nods his head proudly. I feel giddy all over again and have only had about two sips of my pinot noir.
“Ooooooh!” Lenny cries. “I missed that one, yo.”
“That was a great performance,” Jackson comments in a way that isn’t suggestive.
“Thanks, Jackson,” I nod graciously.
“I wish I were there to see it,” Evelyn murmurs, wearing a moue as she peers over to Jackson.
He ignores it and continues, “I remember the look on D’s face when you hit the stage. I thought we were gonna have to end the party right then and there!” We laugh.
I turn to Azmir who, in his own way, is blushing at the memory.
“Oh, shit! Are these…” Lenny says before biting into the cornbread. “…Momma Dee’s?” he exclaims.
I smile haughtily at Azmir who is now looking to me for an answer. He goes for one himself and bites into it. I find myself envying the bread.
Down, girl!
“Damn. And they taste fresh out the oven,” Azmir murmurs. After clearing his mouth, he moves closer to me and whispers with furrowed eyebrows, “How were you able to pull this off?”
Giddy, I shrug and whisper in return, “I’m that chick,” then employ the smug grin I’ve picked up from him.
“I see,” He chuckles. “Indeed.”
The rest of the dinner is great. My menu of seafood and chicken goes over well, and Momma D’s cornbread was the icing on the cake. I’ll have to thank her again for agreeing to ship them out here. Now, it’s time for my next surprise. As if on cue, LaSean enters the dining room to inform me that the great room is now ready.
“All right, everyone. Let’s move this party to the living room,” I call out to the group.
Oblivious and tranquil, Azmir takes me by the hand a leads the way. Those trustee electrical currents hit my spine. I thought they’d get old someday soon. I was clearly wrong.