Dixon, 29, nods. A visitor has just asked what it's like being a young black professional still fairly new to Tampa.

Like any good lawyer, Dixon, who moved here 4 1/2 years ago, weighs her answer carefully.

``We talk about it all the time,'' Dixon says, thinking back to countless afternoon and late-night conversations with other newcomers like herself.

``The social opportunities are slim to none,'' Dixon says. ``I think if you are already married or in a serious relationship, then Tampa is a great place.

``But if you're here trying to find someone, it's not.''

Put another way, the life of a young black professional woman in Tampa can be lonely. It's not Siberia; the weather's better and the beaches are closer.

But seen through the eyes of Dixon and many of her friends, it's not a place that offers a rich variety of personal and social outlets.

To be sure, Dixon is happy professionally. She's an associate with Carlton Fields, one of Florida's best-known law firms. It's predominantly white and male, but it puts a strong emphasis on staff diversity and has a number of associates who are both female and black, Latino or Asian.

``Carlton Fields believes that persons with diverse backgrounds enhance and enrich the firm's work environment, and add immeasurable value to the legal services that we provide and the overall culture of the firm,'' its Web site says.

As a member of the firm's diversity committee, Dixon helps to put this belief into practice. It's a part of the overall professional challenge that keeps her here, even though she could work just about anywhere.

``In this profession,'' she says, ``opportunities [for young black women] are wonderful.'' But along with many of her friends, Dixon has reached that point in life at which social and personal needs are competing with professional fulfillment.

Somewhere within the calculus of this struggle hangs a vital piece of Tampa's future because only if Tampa keeps the Penelope Dixons will it ever become the richly diverse world-class city that so many here talk about.

Looking For Love

Maybe it was the long hours a young lawyer spends working. Or maybe her education and profession scared men off.

Whatever the reason, Dixon says, she ``encountered very few black single males'' in Tampa. Most of the interesting men she met were from someplace else. Either she ran into them while traveling, or they met her doing the same. Always, one or the other would go home again.

Finally, she met someone from Atlanta. The relationship blossomed, and eventually he moved here.

It was almost as hard to establish a circle of friends, Dixon says.

``Black people are used to being around other black people,'' Dixon explains. But to be young, black, educated and a professional working hard to climb a career ladder is to be a minority within a minority in Tampa, and finding contemporaries isn't easy.

There are gathering places here for young blacks. Some of the best known are The Cotton Club and Hollywood Nights, both in West Tampa, and the Faze 2 Lounge in north Tampa, which markets itself to urban professionals.

But the few social opportunities available to Dixon and others like her are quickly exhausted.

``The first two years I was here were miserable,'' Dixon says.

``When I first arrived, I didn't meet anybody, didn't know anybody,'' she says. ``You can only go shopping a certain number of times.''

Tampa didn't give her ``the warm and fuzzies,'' Dixon adds. ``I figured I'd give it two years.''

Finding A Connection

Those first two years are critical to whether Tampa retains new minority lawyers, says Clint Paris, a lawyer with GrayRobinson, another Tampa law firm. Recruiters at big firms elsewhere have learned that young minority lawyers become unhappy in Tampa after about two years, and they come calling, Paris says.

Paris, who grew up here, has made it a mission to reverse this, and through him Dixon found an entry point - his sister, Latona Paris. He introduced them when Dixon needed a hairdresser. His sister in turn helped Dixon find the Ladies of Literature, a book club of mostly black women who read black authors.

Dixon also attends church at the Bible-Based Fellowship in Temple Terrace.

Dixon's social circle has widened, and now that her boyfriend is here, she's resisting the temptation to go elsewhere. Atlanta, Charlotte, Chicago and New York are the cities that typically gain from the brain drain of young talent from Tampa's black community.

Meanwhile, Dixon has joined Paris in reaching out to other young black professionals whose careers bring them here. She and friends throw dinner parties for the newcomers, introducing them to the people they need to know and telling them what to expect.

She also stays connected through an e-mail group that spreads word of parties, book readings, prominent visitors and more that might interest young blacks.

Meanwhile, she thinks. Career or family - can a young black female lawyer find both here? Can she wait to find out? Should she?

Today, Tampa still holds her. But tomorrow, the calculus may change.

Will Rodgers