Visibly uncomfortable, Michael adjusts himself in his seat. Dawn and Shayna have been pretty much quiet throughout the meal, only making small talk with Sharina as far as pleasantries go. Shayna’s eyes flick over to me then quickly to Sherina. It’s clear that Dawn’s pitch has just made her uncomfortable as well. Michael pays Dawn a polite nod.
Sharina squares her shoulders and asks, “So, Divine, what’s this I hear…you’ve gone and got yourself a wonderful lady? Is she the reason for the new beard?”
Sharina’s obviously picking up vibes at the table because that sure sounds like leveling question, inconspicuously directed to Dawn. I’ve known Sharina longer than I’ve known Michael. She grew up in Queens with a cousin of mine and our families are pretty close, though Sharina and I aren’t exactly in touch. She used to work for Uptown Records back in the ’90s and we knew many of the same people from the industry, including her husband, Michael, who interned there.
“Divine has had someone sink their hooks into him and has him growing hair on his face?” Michael carries the joke. They are funny as hell, acting as if Tara never existed. I wonder if word has gotten out that far.
“Something like that,” I murmur as I pat my face. “It’s only temporary, though. Anyway… How did you hear that?” I ask Sharina, totally ignoring Michael.
“Lenny. He was in town for Liz’s graduation from cosmetology school a few weeks ago,” Sharina replies. “He said he’s met her and she’s drop dead gorgeous. He mentioned you saying, you’ve never come across a woman who can hold a candle to this one.”
Sharina throws Dawn a chasten glance when pronouncing the word never. Don’t start, Sharina. This is all odd considering Sharina’s never even met Rayna. I guess some women can simply smell blood in the water.
“Ms. Brimm is quite lovely,” Shayna chimes in, attempting to insert some tactfulness.
The waiter comes to offer coffee, to which we all decline. I ask for the check to be charged to my account. Michael thanks me after vehemently advising it isn’t necessary since this meeting was initiated by him. Even so, I’ve been so busy lately that it’s taken months to finally sit down with him. I’m sure Sharina tagged along simply to keep in touch. I’m glad she did. They start gathering their things to leave.
“Oh, so, this means you two will be at the big day in a few weeks?” Dawn asks as she positions her wine glass to her face, drawing attention to her mouth.
“I’m sorry…what big day?” Michael asks just after standing.
“Big day?” Sharina follows with a dubious glare as she goes for her ticket for her coat that was checked.
What the fuck…
“Yeah, not everyone is invited because it’s such an exclusive affair, but seeing how close the two of you seem to be to Mr. Jacobs, it’s fair to say that you’re excited to see him get married.”
“Azmir, you’re getting married? Lenny didn’t mention that!” Sharina gasps.
I loosen the collar of my shirt.
“Yes. I’ve not exactly made the date public, but the announcement went out months ago,” I answer.
“We’ve not gotten an announcement or an invitation,” Sharina croaks. I see Michael smirking behind her, I’m sure his thoughts are mirroring mine right about now. Women and their catty ass antics.
Sharina opened the floodgates for this covert attempt of leveling Dawn. And Dawn swooped down, dropping jewels to demonstrate to Sharina that she doesn’t know me as well as she’s alluded to by boasting about my fiancée.
“Rina, my beloved is a very private person. She isn’t familiar with the industry you and I practically devoted our adolescence to,” I explain as I stand. “I’ll tell you what, the next time you guys are out in L.A., look me up and we’ll have dinner. And I have the perfect restaurant in mind. My lady’s palate is partial to Italian just like yours. I’m sure you two will hit it off.”
“Oh, yeah! She already sounds like a kindred spirit,” Sharina beams. “Okay, we’ll do that.”
We say our goodbyes, but I don’t leave the table. Michael and Sharina leave first and Dawn and Shayna are just behind them when I say, “A moment with you two, please.”
Once we’re all seated at the table, the tension is so thick that you can choke on it.
“What the fuck was that, Dawn?” I ask, keeping my voice low. I’m acutely aware of my sour mood over the past couple of weeks. It’s precisely what happens when you go so long without ass—ass that you’ve grown addicted to.
Dawn’s brows lift innocuously. “I was simply extending the conversation. I’d easily gotten the impression they were close acquaintances to you once the business talk had ended.”
“Dawn, just because I invite you out to dinner with friends of mine on a whim doesn’t give you the liberty to discuss matters of my personal life.”
“It was a personal dinner—”
“Make no mistake, Dawn, ain’t shit about us personal,” I interrupt her right away, still keeping my voice soft, as I am speaking to a woman. “For Bacote & Taylor’s Planning and Public Relations Corp. this was a business casual meal. It’s always business between us. If you do not subscribe to that etiquette then there will be no more opportunities of this nature.”