Page 4 of So This Is Love

“I would just like one more moment of your time, if you’ll allow it.”

I stop and turn my focus back to the stage. The crowd immediately begins to go crazy. The cheers intensify when Sonny walks back onto the stage, a stool in his hand as he walks towards the front of the stage. He sets the stool down and sits on it.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. There aren’t enough words for me to be able to thank y’all enough for all that y’all have done for me and the continued support over the years.”

Once again the crowd breaks out into cheers and applause. He holds up his free arm and motions for quiet before continuing speaking.

“No seriously, never in a million years did I think, me, a poor kid from the south side of Chicago would be on tour, performing for sold out crowds. I’m living a life that I never thought would be possible for me. But I met someone today who reminded methat none of that matters if you lose sight of who you are. All of the money and the fame in the world mean nothing if you have to give up your integrity to get there. So tonight, I’d like to perform a song that y’all have never heard before, but it’s really close to my heart.”

He pauses for a moment, turning his head to look at each area of the arena. “And if you’re out there and you can hear this song, just know that I heard you.”

2

Laila

My feet are killingme. After hours in these heels I am dying to take them off. Thankfully, the pain my feet are suffering through wasn’t for nothing. The investor presentation forLovely Day, the Black owned and woman owned beauty company I work for, went phenomenally well and the investors agreed to sign with the company. I spent weeks collecting data and turning it into visuals to show the growth of the company’s social media presence, which in turn led to growth in profits, and today it all paid off.

After an exhausting day I would much rather be in my bed binge-watching one of my favorite tv shows, but instead I let Zara talk me intoanotherblind date. This time it’s the brother of one of her long-time clients. Her argument is always that things can be a fun time even if they aren’t meant to be long term. And worst case scenario, it’s a story to tell. So far it’s been a whole lot of stories to tell and not much else. At this point, I’m not even sure why I keep agreeing to go on these blind dates, but Zara somehow always manages to find a way to convince me. Zara is the person who knows me best in the world, my best friend sinceelementary school and damn near my sister for all intents and purposes.

I slide into a seat at the bar where we agreed to meet for drinks. When I catch the bartender I order a Cosmopolitan and take a moment to take in my surroundings while I wait for him to make my drink. This hotel bar is significantly more bougie than what I would ever choose for first date drinks but my date had insisted, stating something about their excellent menu options. It is less busy than I expected for this time of night, leaving a lot of the tables surrounding me unoccupied.

My phone buzzes inside my purse, when I pull it out I see that it’s a text from Zara.

Zara

Have fun on your date! I can’t wait to hear all about it!

The bartender sets down my drink in front of me and I wonder if it’s too late for me to cancel this date. I could always say that something came up at work and I wasn’t able to get away and —

“You must be Laila.”

On my left a man steps up to the bar. He’s shorter than I expected, probably only a couple of inches taller than me and I’m only 5’5 on a good day.

Stop being judgyI internally tell myself, plastering a smile on my face.

“Yes hi, Jason right?”

***

I am officially never letting Zara set me up on a date ever again.

“I really think that if people took the time to understand the market and — “

At that I tune him out, only offering forced polite smiles and nods. For the past hour he’s been talking about himself and his job in finance and I couldn’t be more bored out of my mind. I tip my martini glass to my lips and drink the last of my second Cosmopolitan. I send a silent thanks to my past self who agreed to drinks rather than dinner because at least the liquor and shorter time commitment is making this experience slightly more bearable.

Jason pauses for a moment and I take the opportunity to try and get away.

“I’m gonna go to the restroom.”

“Oh okay, yeah cool,” Jason replies, saying the first words in a long time that aren’t about himself or his career.

I grab my purse and swiftly make my way away from the bar. I have no idea if I’m even going in the right direction but I put some distance between Jason and I before I stop to ask a waitress for help. She points me to the back of the restaurant, an area tucked away from all the tables. Thankfully, there isn’t a line and I am able to walk right into the bathroom.

I don’t actually have to use the bathroom, but in the moment it was the first thing to come to mind so that I could have a second to myself to think and breathe and figure out how the hell to nicely leave this terrible date. I have never been one to ditch a date, but leaving this bathroom and this date entirely without another word is an idea I’m seriously considering.

I give myself a moment to stand at the sinks with my eyes closed and take a few deep breaths. After that I stall for a little while longer. I touch up my lip gloss, fluff out my curly hair, scroll through social media, anything to kill time. Finally, I try to reason with myself. The faster I go back out there the faster I can be home in my bed with snacks. With a sigh I grab my purse off the counter. It’s time to rip the proverbial Band-Aid off. I yank the door open and step out into the hall, colliding with a hardbody. I stumble backwards, losing my balance for a moment until I’m held by my elbows by whoever I bumped into.

“My bad, are you good?” A deep voice asks.

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