“Well don’t play with me, girl, I need to figure out what I’m going to do. My career is on the line, and I’m not in the mood.” I take a sip of my coffee, and it burns my lip. “Oh shit!” This is not my day. “If you can’t help me, then I don’t know why you even wanted to meet.”
“I wanted to meet because I’m your friend,” Sandra says. “Whether you know it or not. I have been looking out for your best interests since the start. I told you not to get involved with an athlete, and I don’t support you not going to work. Calling in sick? Odell, this isn’t like you.”
Her words sting. Yeah, it’s true. She did tell me that. But you can’t help who you fall for. Gryphon James walked into my life and now he might have ruined it. Left me without a man, and more than likely without a job. All I have now are my friends. And Sandra is my best one.
“I called in sick, because I’m not feeling well at all, and I have to figure out a strategy to keep my job. Sandra, I need you to support me right now, not to say I told you so,” I mutter. “Even if you did tell me so!” Goddamn it, she did tell me so, but does she have to humiliate me?
“Okay, okay. Well, let’s lay it all out here. First, we have to figure out what you’re going to do about Carlton.” She looks thoughtful. “You say that there’s going to be a meeting to decide your fate?”
“Exactly. Tomorrow. But they've had a week to prepare for it, while I’ve been stuck doing odd jobs in the firm. I don't even know if we're doing the counter suit. At least I’ve got this win in my pocket, but with neither Carlton or Gryphon talking to me, I'm really not sure what to do.” I’m picturing a guillotine with my neck in it, and Carlton with the executioner’s mask on. And Griff standing beside him, laughing. “And honestly I don’t understand his problem. I got that witch Sabrina Forbes to drop the case, possibly won us a counter suit, but instead of celebrating, he’s using my relationship as proof that women shouldn’t even be allowed to be lawyers! It's insane.”
“That’s just completely ridiculous.” She slams down her coffee cup. “You might have a real case against him.”
I suddenly remember the recording I made of Carlton’s spouting his bullshit. “That’s true, you know. I do have a secret weapon here.” I tap on my phone. “I secretly recorded some of the ridiculous shit he was spouting during that meeting.”
“It’s a good thing you’re so suspicious!” she laughs. “That was quick thinking on your part.”
“Right!”
“If you can use that as evidence, you might be able to not only secure your position but also get Carlton removed from his,” she says.
“It’s not admissible in court, but it might make me safe with HR. But, the reality is that, if it all goes bad, I also could be blackballed out of my profession. Nobody wants to work with the woman who makes it hard for the men who are trying to keep them down,” I say.
“Well, that’s not entirely accurate,” She answers. Our food arrives, and immediately I feel like hurling. I don’t know why Sandra likes this diner food. It’s so greasy. I push the plate away as she digs in.
“Oh no?” I ask, looking at her sideways.
“You know who wants to work with those women? Other women!”
“Right, that’s true. Smith Williams Smith is not the only firm in this world,” I muse.
“Not by a long shot,” she says. “And if you’re half the lawyer you appear to be, then you’ll find another job. In a place that values you for more than just a token to look inclusionary,” she says.
“Yeah.” There’s a not-so-secret reason that I work there in particular, though not the reason I made partner—that I earned. The firm hired me partially due to legacy, because my father was an original founder. Of course, he’s left the firm now for all intents and purposes, has moved to Switzerland, and is only on as an attorney emeritus; but it’s his name that makes up the firm’s middle name. The other names that flank it, however, is half Carlton Smith—who has increasingly blocked any progressiveness in the firm’s initiative or reputation—and another Smith who's largely retired now. I never met this other Smith, but I think Carlton is pretty happy to have the principal say in the direction and progress of SWS. He was probably glad when the other two became less interested in working and more into retirement.
Until now. A wave of nausea hits me again as I look down at my steak and eggs. “Why do you even eat at this place,” I start to say, but before I finish the sentence I realize that it’s not just a wave of nausea, it’s more serious. I run to the bathroom and just get into the stall before the coffee splashes into the toilet.
I hurl a few more times, before standing up and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Ugh. Washing my mouth out in the sink, I catch a look at my reflection. My hair is stringier and nappier than usual and I look exhausted, but Sandra is right. At least, I do have a glow about my skin. I don't look like something the cat dragged in. I should get myself to the hairdresser before this meeting, and maybe buy a new outfit.
“Due for what?” I ask. “Color? Oh, I don't know, I think I'll hold off a little. I kind of like how my roots are growing in. I just need a little shaping.”
She gives me a little side-eye. “Ok, Odell,” she says in a voice that sounds like it's meant for someone a little slow. “Can I get you a coffee—or maybe an herbal tea might be better?”
“I'd love something to settle my stomach,” I say eagerly. “I've got a lot of stress going on and I'm really taking it hard.”
“Sure, yeah,” she says. “Coming right up. Jenna, can you get Miss Williams a cup of ginger tea?”
I hear an indistinct shout back but it sounds positive.
“Well let's get that cut started anyway,” Mara says, leading me to the sinks. “You're going to be a new woman in no time. You've got a lot of life in you,” she grins.
“I wish I felt it,” I say.
“You seeing anyone, Odell?” she asks, as she leans me back in the chair.
“I was, first guy in a long while, but it's not working out. You know, we both have careers—we're career people, and sometimes things don't mix all that well with working all the time.”
“I get that.” She looks at me. “But do you want to have babies, uh… eventually?”
“Sure, maybe eventually,” I concede. “But I just made partner, and I’m not really thinking about boyfriends and husbands and weddings and babies. But sure, one day!”
“Well you don't want to wait too long,” she grins widely. “I'm sure it'll happen when the time is right.”
“I'm sure it will!” I lean back into the stream of hot water, and she massages my scalp. I'm in a reverie now, as the tingling sensations swirl away all my worries and concerns. And any lingering thoughts of Griffon, Carlton, or anyone else.
18
Gryphon
“Fucking great job, Griff!” yell my teammates as they pass. I'm gulping down some Gatorade like my life depends on it, and it probably does. It was intense out there tonight, but I think I've won back coach's respect, at least for now. He has to be impressed with my moves and the points I scored. Nobody worked as hard as I did, and nobody got the results I did either.
I get back to the clubhouse, half hoping that Odell will show up again at the door, and apologize to me. I linger around my locker, getting dressed, but she doesn't arrive. Dammit. I'm finally on top of the world again. My lawsuit is out of the picture, my game is at its peak, and Odell still she doesn't think I'm good enough for her. Easy come easy go, I guess.
“Where's your girl?” Drake asks. “You know, that sweet little piece of ass who looks at you like you're pâté on a cracker?”
“What are you talking about?” I say, finally putting my shirt on. She's not going to show. “And don't call her a piece of ass, she's a lot more than that.”
“She's your lawyer, is she not?” He nudges my arm. “Is she even allowed to be with you, man?”
“What? I don't know,” I say. “I hadn't thought that much about it. We were together before she was my lawyer.”
“Well that shit can get you in trouble,” he says. “Conflict of interest, and all that.”
I shrug. “Odell didn't say anything about that.”
“Well if you like her, you should be careful. You don't want it to get around.”
“You don’t have to worry about it,” I say, slamming my door shut. “It's all over anyhow. We're not together anymore.”
“You're not?” He screws up his face. “Say it ain’t so! She was fine! Hey, do you mind if I ask her out?” He dances around me. “Ain't no conflict of interest there! Just in-ter-est!”
Anger wells up in me. “You'll stay away from her, Drake,” I growl. “If you know what's good for you.”
“Hey man, I’m just playin'!” He backs off, his hands up in the air, a smile on his face. “Don't take things so serious!”
I grab my bag and storm out. Something in me is still hoping I might run into Odell in the hall. However, once I'm in my car, I have to give up hope that she's going to come to me.