The Wedding Date

Chapter 1

Zenobia

I’m on my third martini when Dina calls the bartender for her second daiquiri.

“Damn, Zen. You sure know how to handle your stuff,” she tells me. I look at her with defeated eyes.

Dina takes a sip of her cocktail, “I know. I know… I’m sorry.”
She looks at me with a small smile. Dina always knows what’s up. When she invited me out for a drink, I didn’t even waste a minute before saying yes.

“You’ve seemed so down these past few days,” she said over the phone.

“That noticeable, huh?” I asked.

“Girl, we’ve had lunch together three times this week, and every time, all you ordered was a salad with no dressing. Who in their right mind does that?”

“Hey! I ordered chicken strips that one time!”
“Girl.”

I laughed. She’s right. There’s no point sulking over my big failure. It’s better to end this chapter of my life with a celebration.

We’re at one of our favorite bars downtown where the bouncer and bartenders know us by name.

“Another one, Zen?” Adam asks from behind the bar, noticing the empty cocktail glass in front of me. 

“I think I’ll take a break,” I say with a laugh. “Can you bring us some nachos, though?”

“How are you holding up?” Dina asks me.

“Not good,” I sigh. “I’m fucked, Dina. I’m really fucked. You would think having my parents back me up over this whole thing is great, but, no! It’s worse! But I can’t say anything because it’s their money, it’s their investment. I can’t do anything but suck it up for the sake of the company.”
“Yeah, working for your parents is probably not the best idea in the world.”

That’s true. But it was the best way to get my company off the ground. I’ve tried for so long to find investors, but no one would bite.

Why wouldn’t they? My natural hair products for black hair are amazing, and that’s tooting my own horn. I spent years perfecting them, even pulling in some friends willing to be my hair guinea pigs.

I can’t tell you how many screams I heard from friends after finding out a formula trial caused damage. To be honest, I did a lot of screaming myself. One product even caused a huge chunk of my hair to fall out. Thank God for wigs, am I right?

Hair products for black hair are so few and far between in major stores, but they have such a huge market. I really don’t understand why people are apprehensive about making it big. That’s why I’m determined to be successful.

When my parents came forward with a business proposition, I was just too happy to decline. They made it pretty obvious they were only doing it because they wanted me to stop. They realize how hard it will be for me, how I’ll never succeed. They pretty much expected me to fail.

I wanted to show my parents how wrong they were. 

Don’t get me wrong, they were a huge help. Business boomed in the first few months. It gained so much traction I was even interviewed in a few notable fashion magazines. Being a cover girl felt exhilarating. I sent copies out to my parents, but I don’t think they even bothered to open them up.

Then, other brands started picking up the hype and ended up making their own hair products for black women. I tried but I just couldn’t overpower them. They had marketing machines much too big for a relatively smaller business like mine. Our budget couldn’t handle it.

Sales started slumping and they haven’t gotten back up since. My parents started to doubt me and the company I worked my ass off for.

I can’t believe they were right all along. I am destined to fail at this. How am I ever going to fix everything? Think of all the workers I’ll have to lay off. Without the company, I… I don’t know what I’ll do.

“They’re even planning to take out a huge chunk of their investment,” I say to Dina.

“How’d you know?”
“Word travels fast,” I smile. “An employee of mine heard it through the grapevine.”
I take a sip from her cocktail and she gives me a look. 

I know that look; it’s what Dina always gives me when she doesn’t know what to say. 

“Dina,” I say, “you don’t have to—”

“I know, I know,” she interrupts me, “I don’t have to feel sorry for you. But I just care about you too much not to.”

She gives me a hug, and I wallow in its warmth. It always feels nice to know somebody’s out there to support you.

“Adam!” Dina shouts directly in front of my ear, still hugging me tightly.

I immediately break off from her arms, “Jesus, girl.”

“Two tequila shots. One for me and one for my dear, dear friend,” Dina orders.

“Cheers,” I say when Adam comes around, holding up my shot glass. I down it with a slice of lime as Dina turns me around and moves her mouth closer to my ear.

“Okay, now, let’s play a game,” she says.

“What game?”
“You got a date to the wedding yet?”
“Holy shit, no, I forgot it was this weekend and I—”
“Yeah, yeah, all that. Now is the perfect opportunity to find a guy.”
“Here? In this bar? A stranger?”

Dina waves me off, “We’ll have Adam verify if he’s a regular and if he’s trustworthy. Right, Adam?” she screams to the far end of the bar. 

No answer.

“We’ll tell him later,” she continues.

I hesitate for a bit, but Dina’s right. Again. No harm finding a date here. I scour the bar and see a group of guys in a booth. 

“Fuck this shit. Hey, Adam,” I call over. “Give me another shot.”