I shrug. “I can’t slow down long enough to consider anything right now. It sounds incredible, but I know it will stretch me.”
“Well, go with your gut,” Eslin says.
I smack my lips. “This coming from the therapist who makes pros-and-cons lists for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”
“Shut up,” she laughs. “I’m trying to be a supportive friend who encourages you to do what feels right.”
“No. Be the friend who tells me thereal!”
“Fine,” she concedes. “Don’t go with your gut. Go get your bag, girl. Whatever that means for you, okay?”
“That’s more like it,” I laugh. “Speaking of going for our bag, are you ready for your interview with the Atlanta Strikers on Thursday?”
Timantha’s husband and his friends own the professional soccer club in Cinnamon Grove, and they’re looking for a new team therapist. Since I happen to know the best executive therapist in the game, I tossed Eslin’s name into the mix. And because she comes recommended by me, the job is basically hers unless she completely fumbles the interview.
“I think so!” she says. “I honestly can’t believe they want to interview me when I have zero sports experience.”
“Grant Mills’ daughter is taking over for him, and she wants to shake things up. Hiring you will be her first bold move.”
Eslin lifts her water bottle in a toast. “Cheers to nepotism and wanting to make your own mark, then!”
I laugh. “Amen to that.”
“But seriously, thank you for getting me this interview. If I get this job—”
“When you get this job,” I cut in.
“Fine, when I get this job, I will finally be fulfilling your lifelong dream and moving back to Atlanta.”
“I know! Finally.”
We met in college during a summer coding course and clicked instantly. We’re both a little weird, a little quirky, and our humor leans darker than most, so the friendship was inevitable. But the summers here were too hot and sticky for her, and she missed the loud, unapologetic streets of New York where she grew up. She left not long after graduation. I’ve been trying to lure her back ever since.
Now that she’s ready for a change, I can’t believe we’re this close to living in the same city again.
Eslin didn’t grow up with much family or a big circle of friends, so I became her family. When she’s not spending holidays with my family, I fly to her so we can create traditions she never had. So maybe my soft side isn’t completely gone. It’s just reserved for her.
“My flight lands next Friday at eleven in the morning, and I’m renting a car and coming straight to you.”
“And then we will drive across the border to Canada together for our first RomantiComicon!”
We squeal, and I swear to God, if she tells anyone I’m acting girly about this, I will hurt her.
“I cannot wait to see you, best friend!”
I smile into the screen. “I can’t wait to see you either, best friend.”
We end the call, and I roll my eyes at how ridiculous this all is…and at how much I’m already counting down the minutes until I get to act a fool with my best friend.
Something About a Brilliant Black Woman with a Mind of Her Own
Max
Another perk of being the number two at a tech start-up? First class flights, no matter where I’m headed. Timantha has an exclusive membership with a travel club that delivers five-star treatment anywhere in the world, so flying first class has quietly become my norm. And yes, I absolutely love that for me.
“Glass of champagne, miss?” the flight attendant asks.
“No, thank you. But could I trouble you for a vodka cranberry?”
