Pushing warm air into my neck, Azmir chuckles, “Your nasty ass,” in his Brooklyn brogue as he reproaches in jest into my neck on sharp intake of breath. I’ve caught him off guard with that request. I laugh in his capable arms without conscience. “Indeed…I think that can be arranged.”
This evening, Ragee sings the most romantic Christmas songs. His voice is stellar and I can’t be more assured of my idea to invite him to this event. We all express our appreciation of his musical gifts at some point throughout his performance. We dance, sing along, drink, and laugh for a couple of hours. Even Jackson and Evelyn, in their own way, gives into the idealistic air Ragee’s successful at conjuring.
The wait staff continue to bring fresh drinks throughout the evening after cleaning the kitchen and dining room. They’re my lifesavers for the evening. I soon learned there was no way I could pull off hosting and waiting on guests all in one night. Also, everyone seems to love my miniature custard pies. All wins for Rayna!
It’s nearly three in the morning before I feel slumber pulling at me. We’re sitting on the terrace, against the backdrop of the marina, long after Ragee and friends, LaSean and Karl were dismissed and tipped generously. I sit and listen as Azmir reminisces and jostles with his friends about things of the past as well as current. Most of the conversation is without the women’s contribution, as we don’t hold that piece of their history. We women seem amenable to it as we sit and listen. Azmir capes my relaxed frame as I burrow into his with my feet underneath me. We’re gathered around the mosaic patio fire pit that I question if it goes against Azmir’s residency policy. If it does, he never whispers a suggestion of it.
It’s nice. I’m at peace in his arms, feeling the reverberations of his laughter against me. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.
I don’t know how long I was out before I feel the awkward movements from being suspended in the air. It takes me a few moments to realize I’m in Azmir’s arms, being transported to the back of the apartment. I stir against his hard chest.
“Where are we going?” I utter incoherently.
“To get cleaned up, then to bed,” Azmir murmurs and I feel the rumbling of his peak baritone voice from his chest against my arm. I love that morning grovel in his tone. It reminds me of our plans for when our guests have left.
“What time is it?” I manage, still trying to fully awake.
“A quarter of five,” he answers as we enter the master suite.
He lowers me to the floor in the bathroom of master suite and unzips my dress. It falls to my feet. I step out of it to have him drop to his haunches and remove my sandals. I didn’t wear a bra or panties; I couldn’t fit them underneath this number. He points to the toilet and I meander over to it. When I turn to catch a glimpse of him, I notice how quickly he discards his clothes and gaits into the shower. Once I join him, he immediately goes for my scrub and liquid soap to wash me. When he’s done, I’m sitting on the bench as he cleans himself, feeling loopy; part from heavy drinking and the other half from pure exhaustion.
“What’s up with Lenny? Is he always that creepy?” I ask as I wait, well entertained by the sight of his wiry frame flexing as he washes.
His hearty laughter rumbles off the shower walls. Intuitively, my lips twitch into a smile. His laughter does that to me. I love seeing Azmir lighthearted. It means I’m not screwing things up.
“Lenny is Lenny. He’s been a wag since he was in diaper. He means no harm. I told him to lighten up,” Azmir replies. “He was amped up tonight because he wasn’t expecting to see what he saw.” He then turns to me. “We used to place bets as to who had the hottest girl when we’d introduce our ladies to one another. If we still wagered such bets, I would’ve walked away with extra lunch money tonight according to him.” He flashes his coochie-creaming smirk. “He just needed a minute to adjust to your undeniable beauty.
I sit and contemplate his words. “How does Mia deal with that?” I ask over a stifled yawn.
“As best as she can. She knows how Lenny is. I’m sure she has her way of managing him.” Azmir moves from underneath the large faucet to turn the water off.
He pulls me into a standing position from the bench and walks me over to the sink to dry us both off. I wash off my makeup and brush my teeth as he dresses then brushes his teeth.
As I shrug on my housecoat I ask, “Why does Jackson seem so gloomy?”
“He’s in mourning. His father, one of my good friends, passed away recently. He’s still dealing with it…expectantly. They were very close.”
“I guess Evelyn is helping?” I ask wryly. I still can’t get over the mismatch.
“You’re very inquisitive, little girl,” Azmir notes.
I yawn again, this time really big. “It’s just that I’m trying to get to know more about the great A.D. and these friends aren’t around like Petey, Kid, Mark, and Eric. I want to know all about those connected to my man,” I whine.