“There’s somewhere I want to take you tonight, and I’m not taking no for an answer,” she announces, full of pep and determination.
I hold up a finger, giving her my bestserious Black womanstare. “I’m going to insist you tell me before we go. I don’t just go places with white people without full disclosure.”
She bursts out laughing. “Oh my goodness! Eslin, I willneverget tired of you saying exactly what’s on your mind.”
I grin but level her with a look. “I’m joking, but I’m also serious! I do not know you like that!”
“That’s exactly why I want us to get drinks,” she says, still giggling. “So you can get to know me and find out that I would never surprise you with anything you’ve seen onDateline.”
Dateline.Funny. I know your daddy watches that too. Joked about it the night we first met.
“Fine, but I’m still demanding you tell me where you’re dragging me,” I say, shutting down my computer, walking over to my wardrobe closet, and grabbing my purse.
“The Sanctuary,” she beams.
I blink. “Come again? Church?”
“No!” She’s laughing so hard now she’s practically wheezing. “It’s a lounge in the city! I heard it’s 90’s night!”
“You meanSanctuary,no ‘The.’”
“Yes! That’s it. Have you been there?”
“I’ve heard about it, but no, not yet.” I cross my arms, stepping back on my heel, studying her suspiciously. “Are you taking me there because I’m Black and that’s the only Black establishment you know?”
She shrugs without a hint of shame. “Yes? But why does that matter if they also serve the best oxtail plates in town and play live music?”
The moment she decided to be completely honest about it being the only Black establishment she knew—and that she was taking me there because I’m Black—is when I decide to give her a chance.
At least she’s self-aware. And honest.
It’s not fair to keep her at arm’s length just because of this crazy, tangled-up situation I’ve landed in. I’m a professional. I would never do anything to risk my job, and truth be told, I could use a friend.
Besides, anyone who can point me toward the best oxtail in townhasto be good people.
“Touché, girl,” I say laughing. “But let’s be clear—outside of work? I’mBlackity Black.Work Eslin doesn’t come out until Monday morning. Is that clear?”
She grins wide. “I don’t know what that means, but I’m game!”
***
The live music is everything Marlow promised. Smooth vocals, a three-piece band—keyboard, drums, guitar—playing like they’ve been doing this together for decades. The kind of vibe that wraps around you like warm velvet, sinking into your skin and making you forget any problems waiting outside those doors.
Sanctuary is giving fullLove Jonesenergy. Rich, intimate, and dripping in Black excellence from every corner of the lounge. Thelow lighting, the steady hum of laughter, the clink of glasses—it’s like stepping into a space designed to celebrate us, by us.
I’ve got to give it to Marlow—she did good. Real good.
We’re tucked off to the side, but I can still feel the pulse of the room—like the bass line is synced to my heartbeat. It’s cozy, intimate, and exactly the kind of space my soul didn’t know it needed tonight.
We’re two cocktails in when Marlow spins toward me, her eyes dancing with curiosity and that tipsy glow that makes her just bold enough to start prying.
“So, tell me everything! Where you grew up? How many siblings you have? Do you have a boyfriend?” she fires off like an over-caffeinated FBI agent.
I take another sip of my drink, while Marlow waves down the server for her third cocktail. Oh, this girl is thirsty.
“There’s really not much to tell. I grew up in New York City. I’m an only child. And I definitely do not have a boyfriend. In fact, I’m pretty sure God and Cupid have conspired to keep me single and celibate.”
“Wow,” she says, frowning like I just told her I lost my puppy.