Excerpt from Daughter in Exile by Bisi Adjapon, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Sauvignon blanc."

"Sauvignon blanc it is."

I handed my glass to him, and away he went on sturdy legs, his shaggy black hair bouncing around his ears. I had the impression one could lean on him and not fall. Mindy tilted her head in Len George's direction. "What a fool."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah. Forget him. How are things going at the Thai embassy?"

This cheered me up. "I love it. They're really nice. Did you know they eat plantains just like Ghanaians?"

"Huh, I didn't know that. Last year, I visited Vietnam and they ate plantains too. I imagine most tropical countries have them."

"You went to Vietnam? How come?"

She laughed as though it wasn't a big deal. "Yeah, for my USAID project." I wondered if Ted had gone too, since he also worked for the same organization, but before I could ask her, he returned with my wine. I took a sip, savoring its chilled semisweetness.

He grinned through his glasses. "I take it you like it."

"I love it. Wine is the only alcohol I tolerate."

"So, you said you were writing a book. How is that going?"

"Not well. I wish I had more time to write."

Mindy mentioned a book she was reading titled the Women's Room, which she said was about women in various stages of problematic marriages. I was about to ask if she'd read Erica Jong's Fear of Flying, a book depicting a woman's sexual frustration, when Olga grabbed me from behind, wrapping me in a hug. Only she would breathe cigarette over me, mixed with a primal scent from her armpit. She eschewed perfume, deodorant, and underarm shaving. When I turned around, she kissed my cheek.

"I'm going to miss you, Lola." She teared up for an instant, then flashed a naughty smile, her voice throaty. "You could come with us, you know. In whatever capacity you want. Mistress to Barry. Whatever."

"Olga!" I whipped around to see if Mindy and Ted had heard her. They had drifted away and were now engaged in conversation with another couple.

Olga's slim shoulders went up in a careless shrug. "In some cultures, it's done, you know. I mean, Barry is always whooping about your breasts." She waved at her husband. "Hey, Barry! Tell Lola she must come with us."

He sidled over and pinched my butt. "You yummy thing," he said in a playful, raspy voice. I swatted his hand, whereupon he ouched and slipped away, chuckling to himself. For all his constant pinching of my butt, he was a toothless wolf. Whenever he found himself alone with me, he'd stammer, hands glued to his sides and eyes on the floor. Olga loved to goad him.

"Can you blame him? You've got the most beautiful body."

"You're crazy, Olga. I can't believe you're thirty-eight and a mother of three."

Her laughter was unrepentant. "Now, come on. Let's have it one last time."

I looked at her suspiciously. "Have what?" One never knew what percolated beneath her words.

"That song you taught us."

Ah, she was talking about a little ditty from Treasure Island. For reasons I didn't get, that song threw her into giggles each time I sang it. I didn't want those snobbish ears to hear me, but then I looked around and thought, why not give them one more thing to complain about? I lifted my chin and belted out the tune my mother made up:

Fifteen men on a dead man's chest,
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

The room went silent. Olga threw her head back, a loud cackle erupting from her. A few guests giggled, then their conversations resumed their buzzing. Olga's eyes misted. "God, Lola, what am I going to do without you? There's no one like you for fun. Listen, don't pay attention to Len George. What he said. He means no harm."

It still stung, I wanted to tell her, but she was in no mood to listen.

"Let's just dance," she said, striding toward the boom box and turning up the volume.

Excerpted from Daughter in Exile by Bisi Adjapon. Copyright © 2023 by Bisi Adjapon. Excerpted by permission of HarperVia. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.