Ledi had thought herself dressed up, but as soon as she stepped into the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria she felt like a dull black-and-white microgel next to beautiful color-stained cells. Beneath the high ceilings and Corinthian columns, throngs of women in elaborate headwraps and wax print dresses in patterns that put peacocks to shame chatted in a variety of languages. Men wearing equally elegant and bright African print suits stood by their sides or wandered into the lounge area. One woman floated toward the elevator bank in a skirt that billowed out behind her like a blazing orange phoenix’s tail.
“Oh my goodness,” Ledi said. “It’s like Africa’s Next Top Model up in here.”
Ledi was still dazzled as they rode the elevator up to the ballroom on the hotel’s top floor. Music with a heavy drumbeat tugged at her hips before she even got through the door, and serving staff in aprons of kente cloth bustled by with plates of delicious smelling hors d’oeuvres. Ledi grabbed a small meat pie, and then another, partly because she was hungry and partly because she knew that parties where no one ate the appetizers were hell on a server’s wrists. It was also a cardinal sin to let free food pass her by. They moved against a wall as Portia searched out her parents.
“My dad should be somewhere around here—”
“Mom and Dad are playing musical chairs right now. We have to move because someone fucked up the RSVP and there’s no way I’m fitting between those tables.” The voice was low, its cadence a bit slow and overenunciated. Ledi looked down into a face that was so similar to Portia’s that she startled.
Regina, Portia’s twin sister.
They weren’t identical, but it was close. Her hair was much shorter, her curl pattern tighter, but it was the same dark auburn. Her eyes were the same shade of maple, and her mouth wore the same smile, except where Portia’s was sad, Regina’s was sharp. She sat in a sleek, high-tech wheelchair. The wheels were encased in fire-engine red rims and looked like something out of a comic book. Ledi was certain that was on purpose. The bright dresses weren’t the only things that would draw people’s eye at the gala.
Portia sometimes referred to a time “when my sister was sick” when she was drunk, but she was pretty tight-lipped about her sister otherwise, despite Regina’s rising internet stardom. Ledi had thought it sibling rivalry, but now she wasn’t sure.
“Hey, sis. Good to see you.” Regina looked up at her sister with an inscrutable expression.
“Reggie! I didn’t know you’d be here,” Portia said, bending down to give her sister a peck on the cheek.
“You would know if you ever answered my texts,” Regina said. Another sharp smile.
“Sorry. Just. You know how it is.”
Regina did not seem to know how it is. She raised a brow.
Instead of elaborating, Portia gestured toward Ledi. “This is my friend Ledi.”
“Oh, this is the Ledi you’re always hanging out with?” Regina sounded . . . Jealous?
A little rush of nerves went through Ledi, despite the obvious sisterly tension she was smack dab in the middle of. She tried to be cool, but that lasted about five seconds. “It’s so nice to meet you and also OMG I love your site so much! I read it every day! Thank you so much.”
So much for playing it cool.
Regina reached a hand up toward Ledi, and even though her hand shook en route, her grip was strong. “You’re welcome? Is that the right response? I don’t know what to say when people are excited about the site. This is why I hang out online instead.” She squinted up at Ledi. “Wait, you look familiar. Do you comment as HeLaHoop?”
Ledi’s face warmed and Regina looked embarrassed.
“Oh shit, I shouldn’t ask that. Just, you have a cool avatar photo wearing lab gear and you always have such smart things to say on the science posts, so I remember your picture. I was thinking about asking if you, well HeLaHoop, wanted to do a column on lady scientists. We pay our columnists, in case you were wondering.”
“Oh! That sounds like it could be fun,” Ledi said, both shocked and flattered. “And I could always use extra cash.”
“Oracle, take note. Email Ledi about lady scientists.”
An LED screen on the arm of the wheelchair blinked red, then green. A robotic voice styled after HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey piped out of the armrest. “Note taken, Reggie.”
“Did your chair just talk?” Ledi asked. “That is amazing!”
“Your phone talks, too, I’m sure,” Regina said drily, but grinned at her. Ledi felt a hard tug on her arm. Portia.
“Dr. Okri is over there. I should go introduce you.” Portia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Regina frowned and looked down.
“It was great meeting you,” Ledi said before Portia could respond. “I’ll see you at the table.”
“Yeah,” Portia said. “We’ll be back.”
Regina’s expression lightened. “Okay. I’ll just . . . wait for Mom and Dad I guess.”
Then Ledi was being dragged toward an imposing woman who held court in front of a small group of admirers. She wore a royal blue gown printed with bright yellow images of birds in flight, paired with a matching headwrap. Her face had that smooth brown agelessness that meant she could be anywhere from thirty to seventy, and her eyes were bright with kindness.
“Why hello, Miss Portia,” she boomed in an accent that could only be described as “rich New Yorker.” Once you’d made a certain amount of cash, you could make up any accent you wanted and no one would call you on it. “And is this lovely lady the friend you told me about? Where are you from, dear?”
The last question was directed at Ledi.
“I bet she’s from Eritrea,” a woman in the group said. “She’s the spitting image of my auntie.”
“No,” another man interrupted, his accent thick. “Look at those cheekbones. She has to be from Sudan. I’d know my people anywhere.”
The defensiveness that arose whenever people spoke of their past or their ancestors activated her defenses. “I’m from Manhattan,” she said firmly.
“Hmph,” said the Eritrean woman. “I guess your people just sprang from the soil here, then?”
“Ah, don’t start now, Judy,” Dr. Okri said, then clasped Ledi by the arm. “This young woman is training to be an epidemiologist, an asset to the community no matter where she is from. We have to go talk boring science stuff now, but please enjoy the food and the music. I’m very excited about tonight’s program.”
Dr. Okri led her to a corner away from the band. “So what’s this about a practicum falling through?”
“Well, I was supposed to be working at the Disease Task Force.”
“Which no longer exists thanks to people who’ve never cracked a science book in their lives,” Dr. Okri said. “I wish I could say this was the last such closure we’d hear of.” She sighed. “Well, you’re welcome to come intern with me. It’s not very exciting, but maybe we’ll get another bird flu epidemic since no one is currently tracking such things to prevent it.”
“Thank you so much! That would be great. The internship, not the epidemic.” Ledi’s body slackened with relief. Her career wasn’t ruined. Things hadn’t worked out as planned, but Portia had come through for her and now she could finally relax and focus on her exams. She wondered if she’d get to share the good news with Jamal—maybe he’d help her celebrate?
“Or perhaps we’ll have to figure out a mystery disease, like they’re dealing with in Thesolo?”
Ledi’s head snapped up. “What?”
The woman was in full science-gossip mode, completely unaware of the shock she’d given Ledi with the mention of Thesolo. “It’s not Ebola, or malaria. The water sources are clean, and there’s no discernible contagion pattern. It’s been on everyone’s tongue tonight, especially given our guest of honor, Prince Thabiso.”
Led wasn’t sure if the room tilted or if it was her.
Prince Thabiso. The man who had been the subject of her emails for weeks was now in New York City, at the same event as her?
Impossible. And yet Dr. Okri had no reason to lie, unless she was in on it, too? A ridiculous thought, but if Prince Thabiso was really there, couldn’t anything be going on?
“Are you okay, Naledi?” Dr. Okri was staring into her eyes and Ledi knew she was checking to see if her pupils were dilated.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I think that maybe all the stress of the field study lifting so suddenly made me a bit dizzy.”
Dr. Okri nodded. “I understand. Grad school is stressful enough without setbacks like this. Go find Portia, eat some of the wonderful food, and relax. Everything is going to be okay now.”
Ledi took a deep breath. Dr. Okri was right. Her academic career was moving back on track. She had at least one more night of incredible sex with Jamal to look forward to. The Prince Thabiso business was nothing to be worried about; in fact, she’d make it a point to find him later that night and let him know what scammers were doing in his name. It would be strange talking to a prince, but she was sure he was no different than any other guy.