Love Lost (Love's Improbable Possibility) (34 page)

I stilled in my seat. I didn’t know how to tell him the baby wasn’t mine. The truth was I didn’t know it for a fact but my gut told me it wasn’t. This was
such a delicate situation.

“Big D, you know in spite of what Tara and I are going through I would never treat her unfairly. I guess what I’m trying say is, there are some things…factors…details…issues…
delicate
issues surrounding our relationship that I don’t believe is my place to tell you. But please believe that no matter what they are I always remember she’s your daughter and therefore, treat her with a certain level of respect because of that,” I pleaded with him and that was all I could say.

I couldn’t tell him his daughter turned into a groupie and was fucking a rapper who didn’t even have an album out yet in a bathroom stall. I couldn’t even show him the tape that wound up in my lap of them fucking in
the studio. It went against man-law.

Big D’s speculative eyes hit mine in search
of truth. He wanted to see if I caved underneath them so that he could make his next move. I wouldn’t waiver. As much as I respected him like a father, I was a man. A man that needed to be respected and trusted to make solid decisions even where his only child was concerned. In retrospect, I knew I should have never fucked my mentor’s daughter, and if I did I should have limited the relationship to just that. It was not the best idea to take on a full fledge relationship with her. It wasn’t good for business. The one thing I had working in my favor was that I was prepared to leave the game now that I was legally making headway via my corporate endeavors. I didn’t need drug money anymore. I had legitimate returns on my profits. That was an entirely different issue I’d have to take on with him, but this one with Tara needed to be addressed first.

He sighed
, “I get the impression that there are issues surrounding the breakup and I trust you like a son but I expect you to be a man,” he paused at the knock on the door. The runner had returned with his drink. As he took a long swig, I saw the heaviness in his heart.

“Have you ever known me to do anything other than that?” I asked not expecting an answer. Besides, he knew if he pushed for an explanation
, he’d be risking the element of shock and disappointment. He once told me, “No man wants to know the freaky side of his daughter, he just wants her taken care of.” I extended my left arm across his shoulder as a sign of support. To return the sentiment he laid his hand on top of mine. We stayed that way for almost a full minute.

“Okay, young blood. I’ll let you get back to work
,” he said trying snap out of the emotional moment he’d just had. “You know, even when I was your age I didn’t work as hard. You really need to relax and enjoy life again. I haven’t seen that spark in your eyes in a while now. Slow down and enjoy the fruits of your labor, son,” Big D advised while gathering up his things preparing to leave.

“Easier said than done, man
,” I said as I stood to walk him to the door. 

After he left
, I did some thinking of the possibility of being a father…courtesy of Tara Harrison. I felt that debilitating grip again. The crazy thing about this situation was even if she was not pregnant, I wouldn’t want Tara. We were just two different types of people. She was silver spoon fed and I was plastic. When I started fucking with her about six years ago, it was fun because she was so different from other chicks—daring. I’d been fucking Tara since her eighteenth birthday. I sat and recalled the night when she and her girls snuck to
The Joint
in their drop top Beamer. They hit the dance floor hard with their miniskirts and make up on. Tara started asking for me so my peoples came and got me. She told me that since she had turned eighteen that day she could tell me why she kept eyeing me and trying to spend so much time with her dad when she knew he was coming to see me. Tara said she could act out her fantasies if I gave her the opportunity. I had sex with her that night in the back of my truck. I knew it was wrong but I didn’t fuck her like I did other broads at that time. I actually liked her.

After a year of sneaking around with Tara
, my conscious started to forbid the creeping. I had to tell Big D about it. It was a relief to discover he knew she’d had a major crush on me for years, and his daughter was the type to get what she wanted. He gave me his blessings to date his Tara after a serious talk. He laid the responsibility of her on my shoulders. Two years later, Tara wanted to move in with me. I wasn’t too keen on the idea and thought Big D wouldn’t roll with it so easily. What was surprising was that she asked her dad with her mom there rooting for it. Patricia was trying to train her daughter to be like her and get with a man that could offer a certain type of lifestyle. She knew her husband was coaching me to be the hustler that I am today and that would mean security for her only child.

There was no way in hell that I was taking that leap with Tara. Living with a woman was never a desire of mine, and living with Tara had never been a thought.
If I knew any better, I would’ve sent Tara’s ass home the moment I saw her at my club that night.

What I didn’t realize was that the relationship came along with an obligation and compromised boundaries
between my mentor and me. Now that my feelings for his daughter had dissipated, I still felt a responsibility to him and his family. Leaving Tara would be perceived as betrayal to the only man that showed me love and guidance no matter how legitimate the reason. And not to mention the business relationship we have. This would jeopardize serious cash flow for so many people. I didn’t want to count the number of people who ate from this operation we’ve set up over the past fifteen or so years.

I deliberately switched my thoughts to warmer ones of Rayna. I don’t know this woman thoroughly but I had to say, I wanted to. After what happened a few weeks ago
, I’d been thinking about getting to know her more. She frequents my thoughts and I want to be with her more often. On the contrary, we haven’t been together since that night at my apartment. Every time I thought about that night with her on my couch I could smell that flowery scent she wore. I remembered how she tried to keep it together until she couldn’t take it anymore and abandoned that calm and reserved act. Man, when I think about the way she breathed heavily in my ear asking me to help myself to her body, I have to feel she was inviting me to a little more than that.

It was at that moment I realized I was sounding like a bitch and needed to stop. Ain’t no pussy or woman ever had me going in like that and I wasn’t trying to let it begin there.

Little did I know…

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the morning of my birthday and my eyes fluttered open remaining true to my body’s timer. I stilled there in the bed giving my mind a chance to synchronize with my body. I took a few seconds to reflect and give praises to Allah for another year of health, wealth, and prosperity. Even with as much stress as I had I knew I was a blessed man. I allowed my mind to rolodex my countless fortunes when the phone rang at about a little after five a.m. I couldn’t think who would call me at that hour. When I grabbed the phone I immediately noted the 718 area code, it was a Brooklyn caller.

“Peace-Peace
,” I mumbled. 

“Azmir?” a woman with a trembling thick New York accent asked.

“Yeah, who is this?” I asked still trying to collect my wits.

“Azmir, ‘dis…
Yazmine,” the raspy woman informed. Seconds after I processed the words and the gruff in her voice my heart dropped.

“Who?” I had to ask again to be sure.

“Yazmine…ya’ mother?” she said undoubtedly. I didn’t know what to say.

She obviously noticed. “I know it’s been a minute but I fought wit’ myself all night about making ‘dis call.” Still
, I had nothing to offer. She continued, “I know you wanna know where I been. I’m in Brooklyn now. I been out here for about a year now wit’ a frien’ of mines.”

“Okay…” was all I
my mind could produce.

“Ummm, I was locked up Azmir. I did a
twenty solid, man,” she crowed. I heard the tears in her voice. “I made parole on your birthday last year.” She paused for a while waiting for me to say something. “You there, beloved?” she asked because of the silence. I felt a ball in my throat.

I cleared it out before saying, “Indeed.”

“I couldn’t find you. You was like a needle in a damn haystack, man,” she chuckled and then sniffled. “I called everybody I could think about. I came to BK asking all your little friends ‘dat I could remember. Seem like everybody dead or locked the fuck up. I remember being in lock up hearing about little…well, big Christopher—I know y’all called him B.I.G.. I cried all night, man.” I recalled losing my man, too. It was painful for me like no other time in my life.

“
I see Shawn…Jazz or whatever y’all used to call him…on TV all the time wit’ ‘dat singer...’da girl wit’ the blonde hair that sing and dance. I saw Trevor the other day around the way. I can’t believe he cut his dreads and shit!” Yazmine was rambling because she was short of words. And so was I. “Then I called my old girl, Pamela, back in Chicago. She told me she ain’t seen you in years but she used to always see Daryl come by after they snatched me. She told me her niece, Tonda fucked wit’ you like ten years ago and you flew her out to California and shit. And ‘dats when I thought Daryl musta took you out there wit’ him. It still wasn’t easy to find you. I had to find Daryl first. I hear how ‘dat stuck up bitch he married just died. Allah rest ‘da dead.” She paused again. I looked at the clock again and realized she didn’t know how early it was out here.

“Yeah…” I uttered. Again she paused.

“Look, man…I just wanted to say happy born day to you. I don’t want nothing.” She’d finally caught on.

“Thanks.”

“You got that caller I.D. shit?”

“Ummm, yeah.”

“Well ‘dats my number if you wanna get at me.”

“
Indeed,” I muttered tentatively. And like that she was gone.

I stayed in bed for an
hour after thinking about her call. So many questions ran through my mind. I didn’t know whether to be happy or pissed the hell off.

I eventually
threw the entire call to the recesses of my mind. I started thinking about my day and the party Petey said we were supposed to be hitting up. He said it was going be off the chain. I could use a drink already after the phone call I’d just received. My cell went off again. This time it was Manny, my doorman, from the Marina high-rise. He told me that a woman dropped off a couple of things for me last night for me to get this morning. He said he couldn’t tell if she was trying to surprise me or not but she said today was my birthday and he knew I didn’t stay there every night and wanted to inform me. I asked what she looked like and he said it was the woman that was over a few weeks ago. That could be only one person especially when you factor in the only person who knew I lived there was Rayna. She just didn’t know it was a secondary home. Seeing my designer and assistants get my clothes and other personal effects in there the night before she came to give it a feeling of habitation was comical.

I thanked him for the heads up and told him I’d be over to pick it up shortly.
I showered and was out the door. On my way to Marina Del Rey, the phones started ringing off the hook. Everyone was calling with birthday wishes, even my peoples who were in from out of town. There were people asking me if I was going to the party Petey told me about causing me to grow excited with each call and I made plans to hook up with a couple of heads. When I showed up to my apartment building there was a card and a rose left for me. The rose was some variation of orange. I had no idea what that meant—
celebration?
The card had written in it a birthday greeting with Rayna’s signature. She wrote in the card,

They tell me that an orange/coral colored rose represents desire and enthusiasm.

I desire you and am enthusiastically waiting for the right time. Our time.

Rayna

xoxo

I felt a smile come across my face and apparently
, Manny, the doorman saw it.

“That was an exquisite young lady over a few weeks ago. Best wishes on your birthday, Mr. Jacobs
,” Manny acknowledged.

I pulled out
a fifty-dollar bill and handed it to him, “Thanks, Manny. I owe you, man.” I walked out into the sun back to my car. I sent a text to Rayna,

Thanks. This is
thoughtful. It’s nice to have something to look forward to. Anxiously awaiting.

Rayna’s surprise gesture oddly made me forget about the abrupt call from
Yazmine and look forward to the day ahead. I braced myself knowing it would be a long one. I headed downtown L.A. to meet my stylist for my birthday gear.

That night Kid picked me up at about
eight p.m. We went to
The Joint
and had some drinks. The goons smoked trees and offered some my way. I passed. I hadn’t smoked in almost ten years. I was too old for that shit. Three glasses of that V.S.O.P got me feeling nice. It was early but there were mad people coming into the club already. Before I knew it, it was almost ten thirty p.m. We headed out to get some grub.

My goons rented a fully loaded luxury Rolls Royce stretched limo. As we were driving
, I realized I hadn’t heard from Rayna since that morning. I guess she was giving me time with my goons and figured I’d see her tonight. I didn’t know how that was going to work out because I had no idea what they had planned. I did remember telling Petey that I would need time to meet up with her later on.