Something She Can Feel

“Good. So let’s get started.”

Kweku led me to the door.

“Oh, and one last thing.” I stopped him before we walked out. He turned and looked at me eagerly. “I want to go back to Ghana.”

“Ghana? Are you serious?” He stepped back.

“Yes. For a month. Three months. Alone,” I said, half asking and thinking he’d probably say no, but I had to ask.

“What? You are already costing us money and we haven’t even signed anything.” He grinned comically.

“I was

just Journey ... living a dead life for a long, long time. And one day, I met a man on a plane. And he sat right next to me and told me that Africa was the only place that could revive a dead life. And that it would always be there for me if I needed it. Well, I need to learn how to survive a dead life now.”

“This was a wise man,” Kweku said, tapping the side of his forehead pensively.

“Well, not that wise. But ... he helped save my life.”

Kweku opened the conference room door and turned to me with his eyes low and defeated.

“I’ll book a flight to Accra next week. Get a lease on a villa for two months,” he said.

“Three,” I tried.

“Three?”

“I want three months in a villa on the beach in Kumasi.”

“You’re killing me.”

“When I come back, I’ll have an album written and be ready to record,” I said.

Kweku stood there for a second and looked into my eyes.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Even I couldn’t believe he’d said okay.

“Okay,” he confirmed. “Now go on to lunch and retain a lawyer. Can you do that, diva?”

“I can do that.” I was sure my smile could be seen throughout the building.

“And don’t get lost,” he said, walking out of the room in front of me.

“Don’t worry, Kweku. I’ll be taking Ms. Cash to lunch,” Dame said, who I discovered was standing right outside the door.

“Hmm ...” Kweku wagged a naughty finger at Dame and turned to me. “Call me later?” We exchanged nods, and he walked off to a group of people who were waiting for him down the hallway.

“How do you know I want to have lunch with you?” I asked Dame.

“Two words.”

“What?”

“Dreamland BBQ.”

“Dreamland? We’re going to Tuscaloosa for lunch?” I asked as we started walking toward the elevators.