The Single Life with Zola Patterson - Danielle Allen Page 0,7

embarrassing about what was said unless…

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “J.J. is… isn’t used to seeing me with women who aren’t family.”

I stared at him as he gave me what felt like a flimsy excuse.

“Is he used to being around many Black women?”

Josh’s face scrunched in confusion and he paused for a beat. “Um, yeah. His babysitter is Black. His teach—what’s this about? Did he say something?”

I nodded. “He said a lot of things.” I laughed under my breath. “But who is Mrs. Mitchell?”

He gave me a look. “Mrs. Mitchell is our neighbor,” he said slowly. “How did Mrs. Mitchell come up in conversation?”

Not breaking eye contact, I answered, “J.J. asked me if I was your girlfriend—”

“Oh my God,” he groaned, shaking his head.

The waiter interrupted our exchange and we placed our orders. As soon as he left the table, Josh leaned forward. “My son is talkative and asks a lot of great questions. But he will ask whatever is on his mind. I’m sorry he put you on the spot.”

“Don’t worry. He was fine. And I told him we were just friends and he seemed okay with that.”

I noticed the way his eyes dimmed.

But you don’t seem okay with that, Josh. Interesting…

I didn’t know how that reality check changed the marketing consultation, so I paid extra close attention to his body language.

“He asked if we went to school together and I told him no,” I continued. “He asked if the reason we didn’t go to school together was due to segregation.”

“Oh, dear Lord!” He exhaled the words as his eyes became the size of saucers. Embarrassment flushed his face as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Mrs. Mitchell was talking to J.J. and oh my God. I’m sorry about that.”

“Apology accepted,” I told him as the waiter brought our drinks to us. “But we should get started since I have to be at the office soon.”

Josh broke eye contact and nodded. “Yes, of course.” He took a sip of his sweet tea. “You have your website. You have the column with The Herald. And now, you have a book that’s coming out in a week. Why don’t you have a billboard campaign?”

My eyebrows flew up. “A billboard?”

He didn’t have the same moony, flirtatious look in his eyes. He was all business as he launched into the different ways I should’ve already been marketing myself. The lunch flew by and he was a complete professional the entire time. Even as we said goodbye, he didn’t hug me as he did when we greeted each other. He shook my hand. He didn’t ask me out again. It was a friendly yet professional goodbye.

When I returned to my car, I immediately called Kia. After filling her in on what happened with J.J., she laughed.

“This is why I don’t date men with kids,” she said with a laugh. “Remember when Lilith dated that guy and his daughter asked her if TVs were around when she was a kid?”

I snickered as I navigated the traffic. “She was so mad,” I recalled as I eased onto the highway. Thinking about Kia’s friend from work telling us the story over dinner the night after it happened made me laugh a little harder.

There were tears in my eyes as I drove. Kia and I would get into laughing fits where we weren’t able to control ourselves. It was like her laughter triggered mine and mine prompted hers. And one of those spells was like a soul reset.

“That was hilarious,” Kia agreed when we gathered ourselves. “That little girl was shady as hell.”

“Yes! That little girl was fifteen or sixteen, so she knew exactly what she was doing when she said that.”

“That’s the real reason she broke up with him. She liked him, but she hated his kid.”

I shook my head as I increased my speed. “I mean, that sucks, but it’s for the best. If you’re going to date someone with a child, you have to get along with the child.”

“Facts.” She paused. “What are you wearing today?”

“Jeans and my black sheer top with the black blazer.”

“The fitted blazer?”

“Yes…” I furrowed my brow. “Why?” I asked slowly.

“Because J.J. thought you went to school in the sixties.”

I burst out laughing all over again. “Shut up! J.J. is seven! He has no true concept of time and he was fresh off a history lesson with Mrs. Mitchell.”

“So, he looked at you and thought… she and Mrs. Mitchell look around the same age.”

My mouth fell open. I didn’t even