Love Redeemed, Book 4 (20 page)

That damn Dawn!

“Ms. Brimm, you’ll be seated with Mr. Jacobs at the head table. After dinner, you two will be escorted to the cocktail room for the after party where the guests will be as well as journalists who will be looking for sound bites from Azmir for publication. Would you like to work the room with him or be taken to your seat where you’ll be joined by him when he’s done?”

I d
on’t want to leave him all evening. Perhaps if I do the initial walk through with him, I can give him a break during the after party.
Errrrrrrrrrrr…
I wish I could ask what Azmir preferred.
Make a call, Brimm!

“Erm…I’ll stick with him for now
,” I inform sheepishly.

Shayna smile
s, “Of course. I’m sure he’d prefer that.”

I
idly wonder what that means.

Seconds later, Dawn and
Azmir appears just inside the foyer and I can see his eyes perusing the area. I know he’s looking for me, concerned with my inclination to run when faced with Dawn’s conniving antics. Instinctively, he finds me amongst a herd of attendees. His eyes soften again. And like the horny teen I’m reduced to under his blazing gaze, I giggle. In a gown that costs twice as much as my monthly mortgage, shoes that doubles a hefty car note, and jewelry that could feed dozens of villages with malnourished dwellers—I giggle.

Way to go, Rayna.

He immediately makes his way to me. It doesn’t take Dawn long to register his abrupt journey and she follows him, sans her baneful beam. When he reaches me, his big warm hand makes its way to the bare flesh of my back and he plants a slow kiss on my forehead.

“You okay, gorgeous?” Azmir ask
s, and once again, I identify the gleam in his eyes.

I ha
ven’t run.

“Of course,” I smile as I lean into him with both my fists between us. “You looked so dominant o
ut there. So well-placed. I’m proud,” I murmur as my head tilts back so that I can gaze into his eyes.

“Yeah?” he asks with pinched eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah!” I affirm with my smile turning toothy. “And Gail King?
You know Gail King?
”

He cock
s his head to the side, tentatively, “Well, that depends on what you mean by me knowing her.”

I smack
him in the arm. “Azmir! I’m not asking if you’ve been with that woman!”

“Well, good because I haven’t. I don’t
know Gayle that well,” he returns. “And before you ask, I’ve never met Oprah.” A knowing grin crests upon his face.

He’
s right, that would have been a subsequent question. I laugh at myself. Azmir chuckles as well.

“Everybody think
s because you know Gayle, you must know Oprah. Gayle has her own life,” Azmir informs. “We know a few of the same people—”

“Yeah…yeah…I know. The whole circle th
ing,” I cut him off before he repeats the same line he gave at the Trey Songz after party.

He laugh
s this time, allowing me to smell spearmint from his mouth. “Well, yeah. Like I told you the other night at the dinner party, I came to “Hollywood…” He uses air quotations. “…at a time when it was smaller and easier to navigate. I played it hard and got to know everyone I could. It was fun while it lasted,” he ends with softer tone.

Although it
’s not the most opportune time to have this discussion, I ask anyway. “When and why did you end it?”

His expression sober
s as his gaze swallows me for what feels like minutes long. “Like I told you in Tahiti, I’ve made much needed adjustments. And now, all is perfect…or at least will be once I have your hand in marriage.”

My heart stammer
s in my chest and my mouth goes dry. Hearing this beautiful, powerful, and well-suited mogul wax poetic about my ultimate commitment is heady. I don’t know how to respond to that. My shoulders sag in forfeiture of his determination. He has me—all of me—but it would be a corny follow up to his smooth declaration.              

“Mr. Jacobs, it
’s time for the actual signing in the private dining room. Dawn will take you around for greetings before you go to the head of the room with the partners for the mock signing and photo opp. After which, dinner will be served and then the after party,” Shayna informs as Azmir holds me. “Ms. Brimm will be at your side, but if you…” Her eyes shift to address me directly. “…change your mind and want to wait it out during the dinner or after party portion, you can be escorted to your seat at any time until he’s done.” She returns her gaze to Azmir and I notice her invariable level of professionalism, “I’m going to check on a few things for the after party, so I’ll see you then.” Azmir nods in approval and she walks off, leaving us to Dawn
and her blue strapless gown
. We look like a threesome.        

As we make our way to the elegant dining room, we’re offered tumblers of the night’s purpose,
Mauve
brandy. The velvety amber liquid is no stranger to me as I’ve indulged in a glass or two with Azmir, sipped a few swallows from his servings, and consumed countless tastes of it from his lips. I’ve even had it licked from my trembling body a time or two. With familiarity, I sip my first taste of the evening, enjoying the thick trace of spice it leaves as it courses my esophagus.   

Once in the room, we
’re stopped by several people greeting and congratulating Azmir. Of course, I know none of them, but a few Azmir introduces me to. One of those people is Steve Stoute. He’s polite during our introduction, but I don’t get a clear idea of who he is until I hear him speak during the opening remarks of the signing. He’s an articulate and charismatic man, who apparently has a history with Azmir and brokered the
Mauve
deal. He shares stories of their relationship and why he’s convinced that the partnership between Azmir and the Moreau brothers will be successful.

H
ere I sit, again, feeling like there are aspects of this man that I’m not privy to. I try to suppress the green-eyed monster in me as much as possible. As I glance around the table and see figures that previously, I’ve only seen in magazines, online, or on television screens, I begin to shrink. I know the man standing at the podium with other powerful beings is mine—all six feet and four inches of him, but this is all so intimidating.

Then
, when my eyes go inches to the right of Azmir and land on Dawn, I feel annoyance. She’s beaming too brightly considering her role in his world. She claps too hard and enthusiastically as Azmir signs the faux contract with the golden pen. Slowly, I train my eyes back to Azmir, where they need to be, and see him gazing at me with a glimmer of sheer accomplishment that he wants me to take part in. Instinctively, a smile blooms over my face and my heart swells. He’s sharing his moment with me—privately, which is how we do things. On our own, private terms. I don’t need to be privy to his previous life. I’m his right now, and that’s all that matters.

During dinner, Azmir introduces
me to Jean and Jacques Moreau, the brothers who owns the company that makes
Mauve
brandy. Azmir explains their need of international exposure, hence how this relationship came into play. Their French accents are thick and their body language is more feminine than that of American men, but they are absolutely straight. This is made clear by the way Jacques keeps eye-sexing me and how Jean can’t keep his hands off his wife. He’s clearly drunk.

“Mademoiselle Brimm, it’s a pleasure to meet you
. I’m just sorry it wasn’t sooner. We couldn’t synch schedules before today,” Jacques murmurs from the left of me. “Jacobs here,” he gestures his chin in Azmir’s direction, to the right of me. “…told us he was a lucky man. Now we get to see just how lucky.
Jolie femme
,” he growls. I have no idea what he’s said, but I get the gist of it. And apparently so does Azmir.

“Yo, Jack, man…you better not be
flirting with my girl. I will kick your pompous frog ass,” Azmir jeers—
or does he
?

Jacques snap
s his tongue against the roof of his mouth on a pout as he cuts into his food. Then I hear a sharp whistle coming from Jean, followed by a gesturing sound made by his mouth that’s often used to call the attention of a dog.

“You two need to stop. We’re in front of company,” Jean chide
s and then hurls out a string of expletives in French. His eyes then shifts to me, “I guess we’re both getting papers on him, huhn?”

My face heat
s up at his repartee. I’m also warmed by realizing that I’m known to a select few of Azmir’s circle. Maybe the press doesn’t know who I am, but his business partners do. While satisfied with the sudden revelation, I glance over to the handsome man of the hour, who dubiously shuffles through his plate with his fork as he eats. His eyes find mine and obliviously, a contented smile crests upon his face. I join him. My heart swells.

Oddly, my
eyes subconsciously go in search of a target and lands on Dawn who’s in the corner of the room gaping directly in my direction with a scowl plastered. I have no idea what she’s hitting at. No matter how much I try, I can’t get used to her creepy presence. She’s so entranced with Azmir that she doesn’t notice I’m returning her gape.

I have him, Dawn! He’s mine and you see it!
What’s she hanging around for?
For you to fuck up
. My subconscious can be so cruel, abasing, and counterproductive. I go for my glass and tilt the remaining amber potion.

“Can we get you another, Ms. Brimm?
” Jacques keenly offers. “Or would you prefer something lighter? I understand
Mauve
is a rather robust indulgent.”

I glance over to
see Azmir raise his eyebrows and shrugs simultaneous, saying he approves, which is weird because I didn’t know I was asking for permission. Hesitantly, I shift back to Jacques and mutter, “Yes, please. Another
Mauve
would be great…thanks.”

He call
s over to the waiter and orders another drink for the both of us. It takes less than thirty seconds for my drink to be set before me. I go for my first nip and swallow slowly.

“Good, aye!” Jacques trill
s. I smile.

Then I hear, “He may be doing a hell of a job being hospitable, but you’re going home with me tonight.” I glance up to find Azmir in my ear. His eyes
are smoldering and his brandy-hinted lips are glistening. With a smirk, I nod in ascension.

After dinner, we
’re escorted to the dining room. Dawn is front and center, directing us to the elevator so that we can join the after party that’s on the lower level. She lays her PR charm thick as she chats with the Moreau brothers about their formidable reputation. She mentions that the partnership is a no brainer considering Azmir’s long affinity for the liquor. Dawn shares how since working for Azmir she’s developed a taste for the amber juice herself as she clasps onto his arm on a snicker. I could choke her. Azmir holds my hand the entire trip, sometimes alternating to holding me at the small of my back. I’m grateful for that seeing Dawn is wearing his color and can easily be confused as his date.

Dawn continue
s entertaining the small group all the way down to the ballroom. We enter the dimly lit room to find the party in full swing with energized tunes bouncing off the walls. The place is packed. Of course, I don’t see any familiar faces, but per usual, people flood to A.D. They congratulate him for his latest venture. The waiters come with loaded trays and I’m given another drink—
Mauve
—that I that rip into right away.

I stay by Azmir’s side as he
reciprocates greetings. I’m not totally surprised by the level of celebrity in the place. I prepared myself for it understanding that it comes with the A.D. parcel. Just during previous engagements, Azmir was discriminatory in choosing who he’d introduced me to. Unlike before, I’m not suspecting of it; I decide to believe he simply understands that I don’t like attention and would rather shadow him. Dawn never strays far. I can always count on her being near us—near him.

We eventually mak
e it to V.I.P. where we sit and talk with more people. At some point, Shayna brings people over to pose for pictures with Azmir. It’s coordinated, so I know there must be a reason, but don’t quite understand it. Though I’m by his side, I make sure not to get in any flicks unless Azmir pulls me close to him. He does it when taking pictures with two women in particular, and strangely, I know he’s slept with them. I can tell by the way that he avoids their extended stares and lingering whispers into his ear. He also pulls me into him by the shoulders or waist during their brief stay. Both women get the hint almost right away.  

Cameras
are constantly flashing, but eventually they don’t disturb my inebriation. I’m on my fourth tumbler of
Mauve
when I realize Dawn’s sitting to the left of Azmir. It isn’t strange that she’s there so much as how long she’s there—and that she’s posed with him in more pictures than I can keep count of. I study her giddy expression as she keeps chatting with him and a few people on the other side of her side of her.