He bent over to kiss my forehead. “Speak of the devil. Chris is out at dinner and wants me to meet a potential donor.”
“Nice! If he’s calling about donors, then he must be interested in running the campaign.”
Keith shrugged. “Yeah, hope so.” He checked his phone, shook his head, and stuffed the cell into his slacks. “Okay, let me get out of here, baby.” He turned toward the door.
“Beg if you have to!” I yelled at his retreating back.
* * *
“Have you figured out what you want to do for the Mastermind group?” Raina asked me as she passed around the agenda at our inaugural meeting, hosted at Kara’s place.
I shrugged. “I’m still thinking it through, but I really enjoy helping out with campaigns. And with the city council election coming up soon, I think I’m going to get even more involved this time around.”
Raina shook her dreads and returned to her seat. “Sooo . . . you want to base your goals off your man’s dreams?”
Irritation swarmed in my chest. I drew on my patience. “No. I enjoy campaigning. I like the strategy, fundraising and I—”
“Then do it for yourself.” Nikki jumped in. “Look, I’m all for supporting your man. Hello,” she did a Vanna White wave toward her body, “I busted my ass and worked two jobs while James was in grad school, with a newborn, so I get it. But you’ve always wanted to run for office. What’s changed?”
Kara brought over a tray of wine and settled beside me. “Shitting on Sienna’s goals isn’t part of the agenda.”
Nikki snorted. “And color me impressed that Raina created an agenda.”
“Girl, you know I didn’t create that. Kara’s type-A ass sent me the agenda last night.”
I chuckled into my wine glass. Kara was a bit of a stickler for rules and order.
Raina clapped her hands as if to call the meeting to order. “Let’s talk about our accountability structure. I suggested we meet once a week, we can Skype most times, and maybe meet in person once a month.”
Raina paused, I assumed to get our feedback.
“Works for me.” I pulled out my iPad, which contained some notes I’d jotted down the other day. “I do have a suggestion about the meetings. When we were in college we met for hours, which made sense because we lived together and had more free time, but I think we need to add more structure. We could give ourselves ten to fifteen minutes to discuss what we’re doing, what works, and what we’re struggling with. And we can provide each other with feedback and resources.”
Nikki raised her hand as if she were in the classroom. “Question. We’re all over the place as far as expertise. It’s not like you guys can tell me if my voice is flat or if a song isn’t flowing well.”
I sipped my wine, placed it back on the tray, and put on my defense attorney hat. Nikki was trying to slip herself out of this group, and it wasn’t happening on my watch. “I think it’s a good thing. We have diversity of thought. Just because I’m a lawyer doesn’t mean I can’t help you brainstorm through an idea outside of law. Sometimes having someone who isn’t in the weeds is helpful. And like I said, we’re also sharing resources that will ultimately help in our personal development.”
Raina threw me a smile. “Thanks, girl. Now, let’s go around and share what we want to achieve, the timeline, and how we plan to do it. I’ll start.”
Raina discussed outlining a historical fiction novel about a former slave’s journey to finding her kids.
I clapped my hands, excited by the synopsis. “I like it, Raina. Sounds like a tearjerker.”
“Thank you, Si-Si. I’m going to start the outline this weekend.” She pointed to Kara. “You’re up next.”
Kara squeezed her hand around a notebook. “Well, I’m gonna go for it again. Hopefully the fourth time is a charm.”
“You know that’s not the actual saying, right?” Nikki smirked.
“Shut up.” Kara rolled her eyes, used to our friend’s ribbing.
“Darren is on board?” I asked. I knew the last time she’d tried, it had caused some tension. As much as I wanted to be upset with my friend’s husband, studying for the master’s exam was stressful for the significant other as well. I’d lived with Kara a year after college, while she’d been preparing for the advanced test. Kara had spit buckets and wine stains everywhere. I shuddered at the memory.
“He says he’ll support me and that he just wants me to be happy. The final test is in the fall of next year, but I’ve already been studying, so I’m not behind. I may have you guys help me with blind taste tests. But mostly I have a few partners I’m working with. It’ll be crazy busy the next few months, so it’ll be good to do some Skype meetings.”
Raina nodded at me. “Okay, Sienna. Give us your update.”
“We’ve already discussed what I’m doing. I’m going to get with Christopher, Keith’s former campaign manager, to see if I can shadow him.”
“With his fine ass,” Nikki muttered not too softly into her wine glass.
“Yaaaas!” Raina fanned herself. “Those Michael Ealy eyes and Goldilocks dreads. He can get it.” She shivered.
“He can more than get it. Homeboy can have lifetime access to the uterus.” Nikki pointed to her own to further drive the point home. “Well . . . he could get it if he didn’t have those crazy eyes.”
“Oh, Lord.” Raina shook her head.
“I’m serious. Black men with light eyes are usually crazy as hell.”
I rolled my eyes at the Nikki-ism. The woman had a backwoods theory about everything. “That simply is not true, Nik.”
“Yes, the hell it is. I’m telling you, men with light eyes are straight up touched.”
“Touched?” Kara tilted her head. “What does that even mean?”
Nikki lifted her fingers to tick off her points. “Touched in the head. Not all the way there. Boiling bunnies crazy.” She snapped her fingers. “You remember Mark from school? Gorgeous green eyes, fine as hell, but we found out later that dude was running over squirrels and wearing women’s panties.”
I shook my head. “He did not run over small animals. Now, the women’s panties thing may be true.” My sorority sister had told me one time he’d bent over and pink thong panties rode up his back. With sparkles. “That doesn’t make him touched. That just means he likes to wear women’s underwear.”
Nikki continued as if her points were valid. “I’m telling you, don’t trust the light eyes or men who don’t have facial hair.”
This time, the other women nodded, including Kara, who was typically the sane one of the bunch.
“No, ma’am.” I shook my head. “That, too, is factually incorrect and is not gospel. Case in point, Keith doesn’t have facial hair.”
“Exactly,” Raina muttered.
Nikki snorted. “Girl, please. Just because you use your lawyer’s voice doesn’t make it true either.”
Kara shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not sure if Chris can help, seeing as he doesn’t speak.”