Page 35 of Curvy Girl Summer

“I’m sorry. And you’re not alone. If you need help with anything or if you just want to talk about it? I’m always here to listen.”

“I know. And I thank you. But I’m all talked out. I just needed a little distraction. What time is your date?”

“Eight.”

“What time are you heading over?”

“Seven thirty. I want to make sure I get seats at the bar to start. If things go well, maybe we can grab a table or something.”

“I like this plan. But it’s seven, so you need to finish up and head over there.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Jazz.”

“Text me and let me know what happens. Even if I can’t get back to you until Sunday, keep me updated. Good luck!”

“Thank you. You keep me updated, too. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “Thanks, Aaliyah.”

“I wish I could be there with you, so you don’t have to do everything alone.”

“But if you were here, you wouldn’t be able to go on hot dates in preparation for your birthday boyfriend. We’ll talk soon.”

I smiled as we concluded the conversation. My heart went out toher as she dealt with her favorite aunt’s downward turn. She’d been sick for a while, so the fact that she only had a couple of months to live wasn’t a surprise for Jazz. But it was still unexpected. Since Jazz was a teacher and she had the summer off, her five-day visit home turned indefinite.

With a final once-over and twirl in front of the mirror, I strolled out of my apartment with more confidence than I actually felt.

I’d underestimated how quickly I would make it across the street and walked through the door of Onyx forty-five minutes early for my date.

I briefly stopped in my tracks. Music flowed through the space, and there were about twenty people in the bar. I made a beeline for the spot I’d claimed last week.

“Welcome to Onyx,” a woman with cute Afro puffs greeted me. “Can I get you anything?”

“Hi.” I looked around. “Is Ahmad here?”

Her smile grew. “He is…” She hooked her thumb toward the office. “Would you like me to get him?”

“Yes, please.”

“No problem. Let me take care of them”—she gestured to the couple on the other end of the bar with her head—“and then I’ll go get him.”

“Okay, thank you,” I told her as I hoisted myself onto the stool.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I took a deep breath.

There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s a meeting with a man who seems perfect for me. That’s it. Nothing to stress out about.

But I could see it all over my face.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ahmad’s deep voice cut through my thoughts and snatched my attention away from my image in the mirror.

“What? Me? Nothing!” I answered a little too quickly.

He made a face. “Well, smile or something.”

My lip curled in disgust. “I hate for a man to tell me to smile.”

“It was just a friendly suggestion.” He grabbed a couple of bottles and started pouring them into a shaker. “You’re sitting here looking like you’re shitting yourself. I thought a smile might help.But you could also frown. That seems to be your default setting anyway.”

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