I changed three times.
First option: the navy blazer dress I wear to presentations. Too much. Second: jeans and the white shirt, which was trying too hard to look unbothered. Third was the green one bought on a Saturday when I had nowhere to be and bought it anyway, which at the time felt like progress.
I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment. Then out loud, to nobody: this is just dinner.
I didn't fully believe it.
I left at seven-twelve. Made it there by seven twenty-eight. Stayed in the car a few minutes after I parked.
He'd picked a West African spot in the Old Fourth Ward. Small maybe ten tables, chalkboard menu, the kind of place that's been there long enough that the regulars don't need to look up when they walk in.
Warm inside. Candles in old bottles, not for romance ex
