by A. C. Arthur
Cris watched in confusion as Tisha walked away. A few inches taller than Cris, Tisha had a deep sepia complexion and wore her auburn-dyed hair in a short pixie cut. That and a few extra pounds that looked very good on her, were the only things that had changed since Cris had seen Tisha years ago.
“So I’ve been wanting to catch up with you for a couple weeks now,” Tisha said when she was back at the table with her coffee and chocolate chip muffin.
“Really? You still have my number right? Because I think Garrett said you gave it to him.” Try as she might Cris wasn’t able to hide the sarcastic tone of her comments. The only reason Tisha had her number was because the day after she was back in town, Cris had run into her at the bookstore they used to love visiting when they were at Howard. That little reunion and number exchange had led to Tisha passing Cris’s number along to Garrett and that had led to the date during which Cris had to put her ex-boyfriend in his place. So yeah, she had some feelings about that.
Tisha shrug and broke her muffin apart. “You two were together for two years. He was the love of your life or at least that’s how you acted during freshman and sophomore year. So when I told him you were back and he said he wanted to link up with you, I thought finally, they can get their act together.”
“You were never a good matchmaker,” Cris quipped and picked up her cup to take another sip. Maybe if she kept eating and drinking she wouldn’t have to entertain this conversation.
“Anyway, he told me about your date and I gotta say I’m disappointed.”
Cris broke a piece of cookie and stuck it into her mouth to keep from responding.
“It’s been a long time since we were in school, Cris. And damn, we were kids back then. All of us made mistakes. You remember that night me and Richmond asked Dylan to be a third in our bed? Girl, I’m not even trying no mess like that these days.” Tisha chewed her muffin like it was spare ribs at a cook-out, the look on her face was absolutely blissful.
“I’m aware that people can grow and change in time. I also know what my expectations are for any man in my life. Garrett cannot meet those expectations.”
“And you think Dylan can?” Tisha’s brows lifted while she sipped from her cup and watched Cris for a response.
That’s why Cris waited a beat before responding. Her knee-jerk reaction was to read Tisha for all she was worth—which at this moment was pure trash.
“What I think is that I’ll be selecting the men in my life. I do not need you or anyone else pushing me and some guy together.”
“Garrett’s not some guy,” Tisha corrected. “He’s a guy you spent two years with. You two know everything about each other. You were the perfect couple.”
“He cheated on me,” Cris said blandly. “Twice.”
“Kids grow up and out of childish ways.”
“I’m not interested in taking another chance with him. I’m not interested in Garrett on that level at all. So if he’s paying you for your matchmaking services, you might as well terminate that contract.”
Cris was through with this strange conversation. She slipped her last cookie into the small bag they’d come in and dropped it into her purse. She was turning in the chair to reach for her coat when Tisha’s next words stopped her.
“You like leading guys around on a leash don’t you? It’s a part of that southern charm masked as control you learned from growing up in South Carolina as part of a rich family.” Tisha stuffed another piece of muffin in her mouth as she nodded. “You always did think you were better than the rest of us because your daddy owned an insurance company. Well, you didn’t think you were better than Dylan, but I’m sure your father didn’t envision his baby girl marrying a politician’s son. At least not until that senator had been named to a high profile committee and has been looked at for the next democratic presidential nominee.”
Cris did not speak.
Tisha smiled as she finished chewing. “Yeah, I know what you’re up to. You don’t want to settle for Garrett when you can snag the big fish this time. See, when we were in college you wanted to keep your options open. Why else would you head to New York to go to Syracuse, of all law schools, when you could have easily gone to Maryland with Dylan or stayed at Howard with Garrett and I? Now, after not clinching a partnership at that big ‘ole firm in New York, you run back here to see if your leash around Dylan’s neck is still tight enough to rein him in.”
“Why would I do that, Tisha? I mean, you seem to know so much about me. Tell me why I would come back for Dylan instead of going home to South Carolina where there is more than one rich black man that I can surely hook up with?”
“Because Dylan’s still the bigger fish. He’s the one you let get away and the fabulous Cristine Palmer cannot possibly afford another disappointment like the professional one you had in New York. See, I know you, Cris. I know you better than anybody else in this city.”
Cris stood. She yanked her coat off the chair and grabbed her purse. “You don’t know a damn thing, Tisha. Just like you didn’t know squat in undergrad and cheated your way into law school where you could barely hold onto to an average GPA. That’s why you’re working as an associate in a personal injury firm now, because that’s about as high as your average ass can aim.”
Cris left the coffee shop before Tisha could respond. She pushed her arms into her coat and walked quickly down to the next block where she finally pulled out her phone and called for an Uber. As she waited, she tried everything from breathing to counting backward from one hundred to calm herself down. No way was she going to remain upset by Tisha’s ridiculous accusations.
Even if she wondered if a small part of what the irritating woman said was true.
Dylan hadn’t wanted to attend the meeting of the Young Black Lawyers Association. He’d been at work since seven in the morning and the meeting didn’t start until six-thirty. But now that it was over, Dylan was glad that he’d come. After taking care of the items on the agenda, Dylan had the opportunity to talk to a few attorneys who had more experience than he did in landlord/tenant issues and drafting effective legislation on rent reform. This information would be invaluable when he traveled back to Chicago to meet with the representatives in a few weeks. What had started out as a way to further assist Mama Peaches and her project, had turned into a totally new project. Century Heights was a predominantly black neighborhood located a short distance from Southlake. Researching the rent issues in that area had begun to take up more of Dylan’s time. But that wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, Dylan was really enjoying working through the problem and his plans to help in Southlake. Even though lobbying for new legislation was part of his work at the firm, this had taken on a personal quality to him. Finding a way to permanently help residents and business owners stay and prosper in this other Chicago neighborhood.
“Great, so I’ll call your office tomorrow to get on your calendar for next week. I know that’s the earliest time I have available. We can talk more about the policies already in place here in comparison to a much larger city like Chicago.”
“That’ll work,” Dylan replied.
He was talking to Winston Hinkle who used to work at a large firm in Baltimore, but had started his own firm in D.C. a year ago.
Dylan was looking down at his calendar displayed on his phone as he spoke. “Next week’s better for me too. I want to have a firm presentation in place for when I meet with the representatives in a couple of weeks.”
“Sure, that makes sense. You’ll be able to use statistics compiled in the Baltimore and D.C. metropolitan areas to make your case for Chicago. The size may not be comparable but when you factor in the amount of small black owned businesses and black residents in the Century Heights area, you’re almost spot-on for the change that’s required,” Winston continued.
Dylan nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too. Thanks for your help with this, man. I appreciate it.”
Dylan closed out his calendar and slipped his phone into his pocket. He reached out a h
and to Winston who immediately accepted and shook.
“Don’t mention it. This is what we went to school for, to help our communities. It’s why I left to start my own firm where I could truly focus on that goal. But you’ve got the Loman Regent name behind you. Not to mention your dad being a senator. That’s going to go a long way toward getting the lawmakers’ attention when you get out there.”
Dylan nodded as they released hands. He had no intention of mentioning his father’s name, but he would definitely tell them which firm he was currently working for, even though the Southlake Association was not an official client. He would work out that detail later, for now, he was glad he’d made the connection with Winston and was going to gather further information.
“Hey. You two having a private meeting?” Garrett asked as he approached them.
Dylan’s demeanor instantly soured.
Winston shook his head. “Not at all. Just catching up with an old classmate,” he said. “But I’ve gotta run. My fiance’s holding dinner for me so I’ve got to get going. Nice seeing you, Garrett. Dylan, we’ll link up next week.”
Dylan nodded. “Sure thing. Have a good one.”
Garrett barely said goodbye to Winston before he turned to Dylan. “So Winston’s trying to come on board at your firm? I thought he’d branched out on his own.”
The last person in this room with at least thirty-five young black attorneys, that Dylan wanted to speak to was Garrett. He’d spotted Garrett sitting at another table when he’d first entered the meeting and while there were empty seats at that table Dylan had found someplace else to sit. He wasn’t avoiding the guy, because that would give him too much importance, but he didn’t have time to waste talking to him either.
“That’s not what we were speaking about.” Dylan replied and was about to turn and walk away, but Garrett touched a hand to his shoulder to stop him.
Dylan looked down at that hand and then back up to Garrett. The guy quickly answered the silently spoken question by pulling his hand away just as fast.
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Garrett began. “I’m not cut out to be a lobbyist like you and Winston, but I’m a fantastic litigation attorney. And I hear Loman Regent is looking to fill a few associate positions.”
“They’re first year associate positions,” Dylan replied dryly. “You’ve been practicing for at least four years.”
There’d been a lag in Garrett completing law school, so that he graduated long after Dylan had. Whether that was for a financial or academic reason, Dylan wasn’t sure and he didn’t care.
“I’m not too proud to start on the ground floor of such a prestigious firm. Especially not if someone is willing to sponsor me.”
And apparently he wasn’t too proud to make an ass out of himself. Did Garrett really think Dylan was going to recommend him for a job with his firm?
“Not if that someone is me.” Dylan figured it was best to just get that answer out there.
“Whoa, you so fast to hold a brotha’ down?”
Dylan wanted to sigh with consternation. Instead he took a deep, slow breath and replied, “I cannot in good conscience recommend you for a job. That’s not holding you down, that’s standing up for what I believe.”
Dylan knew from the way Garrett screwed up his face that this conversation was about to take a bad turn.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I have a good litigation record with my firm. I’m just looking for the next step in my career.”
Dylan shrugged. “That’s understandable, but I’m not the one to help you in that regard.”
Dylan did turn away this time, but Garrett was persistent. He wasn’t totally stupid either, instead of touching Dylan again, Garrett hurriedly skirted around him so that he was now blocking Dylan’s path.
“You can’t call up someone in your human resources department and talk to them for five minutes about me? Or hell, you can’t even forward my resume to HR? Are you serious?”
“I’m dead serious,” Dylan told him and wondered why this man found that so hard to believe.
“What happened to all that pro-black stuff you were just clapping for a few minutes ago? I mean isn’t that what this group is all about, helping black attorneys in the D.C. area rise and succeed?”
“It is. And there are many more black people who can help you. But I’m not one of them. Now, I’m leaving.” Dylan hoped if he said it this time Garrett would get the picture and back the hell up.
He did not. Instead he puffed up his chest and stared directly into Dylan’s eyes.
“You ain’t shit,” he spat. “I knew that back in college when you thought you were too good to socialize with us at the house and I know it even more now since you tried to ambush my date with Cris a couple weeks ago.”
Dylan gave into a feeling he didn’t normally entertain. He took a step forward causing Garrett to take one back to keep them from actually touching.
“You didn’t deserve her back then and you certainly don’t deserve her now,” he told him through clenched teeth. “Aside from that you have two reports to the Attorney Grievance Commission in the last six months, including one where you got a little too touchy with a female client. So no, I will never recommend you for a job at my firm or any other firm. And I will definitely warn any woman I know against dating a lying, cheating bastard like you.”
That should have been enough. Dylan should have walked away then and not looked back. But the memory of Garrett sitting across the table looking smug and like he was only hours away from taking Cris to his bed that night at Tony’s flashed in Dylan’s mind. Her grabbed Garrett by the lapel of his suit and pulled him so that they were almost nose-to-nose now.
“And if you so much as breathe her name again I’ll make you eat your teeth.”
Dylan let go of Garrett’s jacket and pushed him so hard the guy stumbled back a few steps. He gave him one last look of contempt before turning and this time walking out of the room.
9
Dylan was quieter than usual during their dinner the next night. Cris had suggested the restaurant and time by texting him mid-afternoon. She’d just decided to turn down the job she’d been offered and wanted to talk to someone about the decision. Dylan had been the first person to come to mind. Besides, she hadn’t seen him yesterday because he’d had a meeting after work and he hadn’t called her when that meeting was over. That was just as well because Cris’s head had still been spinning after the conversation with Tisha, which meant she wasn’t in the mood for company anyway.
“So, I think I’m okay with my decision to not take the job. I mean, I guess I have to be okay with it now, since I already replied to the hiring partner. I just didn’t feel like it was the right place or maybe even the right position for me.” They’d just finished their meal and Cris insisted they also get dessert. This place had the best carrot cake, which was mainly the reason she’d suggested it. She also did not want Dylan to continue staring into space like he didn’t know if he were coming or going, so she was doing everything she could to keep the conversation flowing.
“If it’s not the right position for you, then why are you continuing to interview at so many firms? The bulk of your experience is as a transactional attorney. You’ve made your name in that area of law already so it’s no wonder they offered you the job.”
Good, at least he replied. She’d asked a number of basic “how was your day?”, “are you enjoying the weather?” questions during the meal, to which she’d received the briefest of answers. Now, it appeared they may actually have a conversation.
“I know. I think that’s what I’m struggling with. I didn’t like having to start working on insurance defense cases, especially since my father owns an insurance company. But I knew that was a means to an end. Now, I’m not sure transactional law is all I want to be doing with the rest of my career.”
He stared at her from across the table. His goatee had grown in thicker in the weeks since she’d been back. Cris had
n’t realized how much she liked Dylan with a goatee. It made him look more distinguished than sexy, even though he still possessed those heartbreaker good looks that had all the women on campus crushing on him years ago. Women who included Tisha. That thought hadn’t been lost on Cris as she’d replayed her conversation with her former roommate last night.
“If you don’t do transactional law, what else would you like to do?” he asked. “There are some openings at my firm, but they’re entry level association positions. I could talk to a few people to get a feel for what might be available as more of a lateral move for you.”
“No,” she replied instantly. Tisha’s comments about Cris having Dylan on a leash while she decided if he was good enough for her or not, was still prevalent in her mind as well. “I mean, I don’t want to be walked into a firm on your word.”
Especially not now that she was sleeping with him.
“Last night I was actually thinking that I might be going about this all wrong. I keep looking for a firm where I can fit in. but what if my calling is to actually make a place for myself?”
Dylan didn’t answer right away.
“When I was young I remember my dad telling my brothers about all the little jobs he held while he was in college. And then when he graduated from college with a business degree, how hard it still was for him to find a job. Speaking of my dad, his 60th birthday celebration is coming up at the end of the month. If you’re not busy, it would be great to have a date for the party.”
“Times have changed since then, Cris. Besides, you also have a law degree and an excellent track record with domestic and international clients. But I hear you about making a place for yourself. That’s what my mother did. She created the type of company she wanted to work at, a sort of temp agency for international attorneys. This allowed her to travel with my father and still maintain her own career.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking!” she replied with an excited smile. The smile was two-fold because at that exact moment the waiter had also brought her carrot cake to the table.
