It starts off with kiss for everybody.
My thoughts led to more questions that fueled my curiosities, and before I knew it, I was sitting behind my desk and had Googled Dawn Taylor. An impressive number of hits piled on the page. One link that caught my eye was her Facebook page. I clicked on it and saw it was open to the public. I’d only known a small bit about Facebook from my brief tutorial with Michelle the day she came to the office to show me how to set up a page for the Long Beach City office. That day, I looked up Azmir only to learn he didn’t have one at the time, but the recreation center did. Immediately, I called on the recollection of Michelle’s guidance.
Dawn was an avid poster. She had a personal page aside from her PR firm’s fan page. After spending less than a minute on her page it was painfully obvious that she was crushing on a man, a man who fit Azmir’s description. She’d post random things like:
Oh, 6 foot 4 inches of dark chocolate glory…
Take a chance on me, trust me to market your story.
I can lead you to places your half a billion can’t afford you…
Take a trip with me into erotic gateways that only I can fit you through.
You say things are too complicated and she makes it impossible…
Take me on like your body told me how much my touch was critical.
This bitch is insane. My hand clenched the mouse, almost to crack it. My heart sped, colliding into my chest.
I clicked on About and saw her relationship status set to “It’s complicated.” I went back out to her timeline to see frequent postings, asking her friends to “like” Cobalt’s page, the rec center’s page, and Mauve’s page and a few more names that I didn’t recognize, like Global Fusions. But what I did know was the first two were a part of Azmir’s brand. When I came to the picture of her and Azmir at some event last week I became lightheaded and needed to recline in my office chair to secure my equilibrium. I gripped the chair handles to help steady my head spin. Rage pumped in my veins and I saw red when I glanced over at Dawn’s crooked smile.
I’m not sure how long I sat there, I lost track of time and reason. My phone buzzed and it was Sharon making me aware of my next appointment. I took a minute to gather myself then pushed myself out of my office to face the remainder of my day.
After lunch, my phone pinged. It was a text from Azmir.
At the airport. I have to make an emergency trip along with my attorneys up to Canada. Rich’s daughter was in an accident earlier today so I couldn’t defer this to him. I’ll be back as soon as things get settled. I trust you and Azna will settle back into the marina seamlessly. Call me once you do.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say. I felt the push in his words about settling in at the marina. I knew I had to soon tell him that it wouldn’t be happening. Him being in Canada gave me some time to think of just how I would.
I thought about Yazmine and wondered if she had packed her things up and was awaiting my call to have her move in my place. I also thought of Chef Boyd showing up to the marina to cook for an empty apartment. All of the inconveniences of me not being forthcoming strangled me at the throat. I challenged myself to let it go and to think about me first. It was Azmir who cheated. It is him who won’t set the record straight with his delusional PR stalker. I would let him work out all the nuances of me not moving back into the marina. Hopefully he’d do a better job than what he did with Dawn Taylor.
It wasn’t until later on that night when I sat alone in my living room, working on charts that I decided to pen Azmir a letter to hopefully explain my plans. I opened a new e-mail and started typing away.
Azmir,