by Bailey West
Reggie gave my mother enough money (through one of his contact on the outside) for her to hire an attorney to help get me out of jail. He recommended Louis Flowers. Mr. Flowers hired a private detective to look into the case. The private detective discovered the police detectives did a less than stellar job at the crime scene. They messed up so much of the evidence that a lot of it could have been used to prove my innocence. What they did provide wouldn’t have held up in court except I had an overworked, underpaid public defender who was ready to get my case file off her desk. All she saw was the color of my skin and decided she was not going to work hard at proving my innocence.
With the DNA evidence the public defender never opened, to the testimony of an eyewitness who was never questioned, I was acquitted of all charges after spending four years of my life behind bars.
Mr. Flowers sued the state, and I was awarded a six-figure settlement. I was awarded a full scholarship to finish my undergrad studies through graduate school, and my criminal record was expunged. Mr. Flowers took me under his wing and mentored me through Law school. I was offered a position at his law firm, and I accepted.
“What up El!”
“What’s up Roc!”
“That food smelling good and them shorties out there is looking delicious. When you coming out? You should get the first pick since you graduated and all. After you, I’m finding somebody that can handle business tonight.”
“I’m coming out in a few minutes,” I grabbed my brush and brushed my hair.
“Nigga them waves got me seasick! You good. C’mon so we can eat and change this music!”
Frankie Beverly and Maze’s Before I Let Go was playing now. Since being released from jail, my brother Roc and I had continued to grow our relationship. He was raised by his maternal grandmother since his mother and father were serving time. His mother went up on a drug charge several years after our father went up. His path has been different than mine. He’s seventeen and is barely making it through high school, and he is earning money by hustling. I don’t judge him. He is a product of his environment. He has promised me he will graduate from high school. We are moving in together, so I can make sure he keeps his promise.
“Alright, I’m ready but don’t try to do too much tonight. We are getting up early to get the keys to our place and then driving to see Reggie.”
“Aye, man. On err’ thang, I’m proud of you.”
“Whatever man,” I grabbed him by his neck. “Let’s eat.”
Averie
~Present day~
“I will be out of the loop for the next couple of days. Moving day is finally here! I will be moving into my condo after weeks of waiting for the completion of the renovations.” Everyone at the table cheered.
I sat at the small oval table in the conference room of my law office, Patterson Law Firm. I left my position at one of the top law firms in the country to start my own firm. Three other women came with me for the journey and are my senior associates. When I asked the women to join me at my firm, I guaranteed a faster track to becoming a partner. Becoming partner would eventually give them the opportunity to add their name to the door. At the larger law firms, it can take decades for the partners to notice you, then another decade to become a partner. It may take even longer as a female because law is a male-dominated profession. With our own firm, we have set our own track and our own pace. We don’t have to follow the boy’s rules; the girls can make their own.
I rented a suite in a building in downtown Saint Louis. My associates and I started working together three years ago and have experienced steady growth. We focused mostly on female discrimination cases. We had been labeled the feminist law firm by some of the other firms we’d destroyed in court. The title fits because I am a feminist. I am an advocate of women’s rights. I believe women should be treated fairly in all aspects of life to include business. So, I fight for women and when I fight, I win.
“Ahhh, come on guys!” I laughed. “Was I that bad?”
“If I had to give my opinion on one more tile color,” Ruth, one of my senior associates said.
“Or…or hear about how long it was taking the cabinet guy to install the custom cabinets that he was making on the spot!” Shelly another senior associate added.
“Wait, this was the best one: ‘my interior designer wants to put my original Lois Mailou Jones painting near the door to my dressing room!’” Caroline laughed. “Such a rich person’s problem!”
I hadn’t realized that I complained so much about the renovation process. I knew that Kerem and Keeva were tired of hearing about it. It felt like all my concerns were valid at the time.
“Okay! I’m sorry! I didn’t realize I was giving everyone heartburn,” I smiled. “And Caroline, you know I’m not rich, yet!”
Everyone laughed again. The room died down, and we continued on with our meeting.
“Let’s talk about what we have coming up,” Caroline said.
Everyone spoke about the cases they were currently working on or meetings they were taking.
“I have a meeting with the Valentine Law Group next week. They contacted me about possibly partnering with them on a case,” I said after everyone else completed their briefings.
“The entire firm?” Caroline questioned.
“No, me.”
“What kind of case?” Caroline responded.
“They didn’t give a lot of details, but it was enough to intrigue me.”
“Valentine Law is a force in this country. It would work well for us to add them to our resume of clients or at least partners,” Shelley said.
“I know. That was my thought when I agreed to take the meeting. It’s scheduled for Monday morning. I will let you know how it goes when I return Monday afternoon. If that’s it, I have a ton of boxes to pack and some movers to harass about being on time tomorrow.”
“Poor movers,” Ruth laughed as she stood to leave the room.
“Can I speak with you, Averie?” Caroline said while the other ladies were leaving the room.
“Of course.”
“I don’t know much about this Valentine Law Group. Are you sure it’s a good idea for us to align with them?”
Caroline had always been the cautious one of the group. If I were to name a negative trait of hers, it would be timidity. She seemed to over think and second guess everything. It worked well for her because she is the top litigator at my firm, but that didn’t work for me. I didn’t tiptoe through life; I stomped. I liked to make my presence known and felt. I would never bring her timidity to her attention. I appreciated the differences the women here shared.
“I don’t know much about the firm either. Mostly what I’ve read and seen on TV but, what I do know is they have more power than we do. It never hurts to align yourself with a giant as long as it suits you.”
“Okay, but will you be careful and let me know the details when you find out?”
I knew some of the details of the case; the client was female. Both she and her boyfriend were being charged with a crime, and the mostly male firm felt it was necessary to have female representation for her. I didn’t want to share the details with Caroline. It was bad business to speak on a case you hadn’t accepted as your own. It was even worse when you were on the case and talked about it with people who were not affiliated with it.
“I will keep you in the loop, Caroline.”
“I think this is the last box, Vee,” my brother-in-law, Kerem, grunted as he placed the box on the ground in the kitchen.
“Thank you, Kerem.”
Kerem and my sister Keeva helped me move the last of my things from their house to my condo. The movers did an acceptable job transporting my belongings from my storage unit to my condo. They didn’t lose or damage anything. I didn’t know if it was because they knew my career and knew that I would write some strongly worded letters to their corporate office or if they were good at their jobs. Either way, they did a good job. I gave all four men a generous cash tip.
&nbs
p; “You know Big Dell, and Ms. Estelle would have happily moved you in,” he chuckled.
“That’s the exact reason why I moved while they were down in Charleston visiting daddy’s family. Mommy would have quilts and fake floral arrangements all over this house!” I laughed.
My mother and father were in Charleston, Missouri, and Cairo, Illinois visiting my dad’s siblings. He was one of thirteen siblings, all of whom were still alive; old, but alive.
“Don’t think she’s not going to add her touch somewhere,” Kerem admonished.
“We will see.”
“Where is my wife?” he asked looking beyond me down the hall.
“She’s probably in my bedroom trying to figure out what she can steal out of my closet.”
“Baby!” Kerem called out.
“Yeah?” Keeva responded.
“We need to leave. We need to stop by the south side daycare to check on the construction before we go home.”
“I’m coming,” Keeva called back.
My sister emerged from the back of my house with several articles of clothing on hangers.
“I told you she was back there shopping,” I laughed. “What are you stealing of mine this time?”
“Stealing? No, I’m borrowing.”
“No, when you borrow something it implies the owner of the thing will at some point get it back. You don’t borrow anything because I never see my clothes again.”
“Whatever Vee, it’s not like you are going to miss any of this stuff anyway.”
I shook my head knowing this whole discussion was useless. If I wanted something back, I would have to go into her closet and retrieve it.
Kerem walked up behind Keeva and put his arms around her waist while kissing her neck. Keeva immediately closed her eyes and tilted her head to give him access.
“Ugh! Get a room!”
“You have two extra ones back there. Can we borrow one?” Kerem mumbled into her neck causing her to giggle.
“No one will climb these walls except for me. Anyway, aren’t you glad to finally be free of me? Go home and celebrate having your house to yourselves again.”
After living on the East Coast for a couple years after law school, I moved back home to Saint Louis and purchased a townhome. I wanted to upgrade from my townhouse after a few years. I put it on the market thinking it would take several months to sell. It wasn’t on the market twenty-four hours before an offer ten thousand over asking was made. I couldn’t pass it up, but I also had no idea where I wanted to live. The thought of moving back home with my mother and father until I found something made me sick to my stomach. As much as I loved them both, there was no way I wanted to live under their roof again. Kerem and Keeva let me move in with them until I found a new place. I found a condo in the downtown area, but it needed some renovations, so I lived with them for almost a year. They were both very gracious and never made me feel like I was intruding, but I’m sure they were glad to have their house to themselves again.
Kerem and Keeva stood in my living room making out like I was not there. I was used to their public displays of affection. Keeva was five years my elder. She and Kerem started dating when I was eight years old, and they were in middle school, so he had been a part of my family for as long as I could remember. They both graduated from college with business degrees and got married after they graduated. Keeva owned and operated three daycares; Rock-A-Bye Daycare Centers. People thought she named her daycares after the nursery rhyme, but she actually named them after her favorite scene in New Jack City when Keisha shot Smitty right before the CMB took over the Carter apartments. We didn’t tell people that fun fact because they probably wouldn’t want to take their babies to the centers. Kerem was the district manager over several bank branches.
“Alright baby, let’s go so we can get back to our empty house,” my sister practically sang.
“Okay,” Kerem responded while placing a few more kisses on her neck. “We have to stop by the Southside daycare though so let’s make this quick.”
“Bye, Vee,” Keeva hugged me with one arm while still holding on to my clothes she’d high jacked from my closet. “Your place is beautiful. I can’t wait to come over for girls’ night.”
“Thanks, Key. I love you both. Thank you so much.”
“We love you too,” Kerem responded as he hugged me too.
“I’m sure mommy and daddy will be over as soon as they get back from Charleston.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
I followed them to the front door and closed it behind them. I was finally alone in my own house again.
I went straight to my wine cooler and grabbed a bottle of Stella Rosa Black. The wine was a move in gift from someone who didn’t really know my tastes in liquor. I’m more of a brown liquor girl, but I could be dainty and sip wine too. I popped the cork and drank it straight from the bottle. I hadn’t had much opportunity to let my hair down and do what I wanted since I had been living with my sister and brother but now? No glasses for me! This bottle was going to be gone in no time.
My phone started playing my younger sister, Kenzie’s ringtone.
“Hey, Ken.”
“Hey, sugar lump. I was calling to see how everything went with your move. Sorry I couldn’t be there to help.”
Kenzie and I were three years apart. She graduated college and moved from Saint Louis to Los Angeles to pursue a music career. She had made a couple of waves in the industry but was still waiting for her big break. She and her boyfriend, Travis, have been together since high school. He was a successful music producer.
“It went well. Key and Reem helped a lot. Mommy called every hour, and Daddy sent text messages every other hour,” I chuckled.
“Is it just me or has he been texting with random memes and gifs?” she laughed.
“No, it’s not just you, but he calls them me-mes instead of memes and gifts instead of gifs. He is addicted to them,” I laughed.
We loved laughing at our Dad and his use of technology. He loved technology, but technology didn’t always love him back. He continued to buy the latest new gadget, wouldn’t read the instructions and then got frustrated when it didn’t work the way it was advertised. It usually took one of the younger family members going over to his house to show him how to work his devices.
“Well, Travis and I will be home soon. We will have our girls’ night and catch up on everything.”
“Sounds good to me,” I smiled. I loved spending time with my sisters. Getting all three of us in a room was hard, but when it happened, it was the best time.
“Alright, love you Boo.”
“Love you too.”
Averie
I’m not your maid
I’m not your toy
I’m not lower than you, recognize
I’m not your bitch
I’m not your whore
Call me by my given name, realize
I am a Queen…
“Stop Kathy!”
I spoke to my voice-enabled device.
I was awakened at five-thirty in the morning to Lyrica’s new song Recognize. Trevor produced it. It was hot and had quickly become my anthem.
I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed. I usually snoozed my alarm several times before I got out of bed, but I had an exciting day ahead of me. I needed enough time to do a thirty-minute spin routine, meditate and get myself prepared for the big meeting I had with the Valentine Law Group. Samuel Valentine, the managing partner, was known for being one of the best litigators in the country. He was falsely convicted and incarcerated for several years when he was younger. Now he was passionate about the law and passionate about fighting for people. He has rarely lost and even more seldom worked with anyone outside of his law firm.
I slung myself over to the chair in the corner of my room to put on my workout outfit. I loved that I didn’t have to go far for my workout, because exercising was not my most favorite thing to do. It was just necessary. My building had a workout room, but I
preferred to walk down the street to the gym because the café there had the most delicious after workout smoothies.
I found my phone and pulled up my recently downloaded podcast list. I listened to several podcasts, but during my workouts, I enjoyed listening to a Pastor from Houston named Roman Bluette. He and his wife, Zanetta, had a weekly podcast where they talked about current events but added spirituality to it. I always heard something that made me think or motivated me. I finished my workout while learning about the importance of forgiveness. They referenced a story where a young man was murdered over five dollars by his friend. The murdered man’s mother stood up at the trial and told the murderer that she forgave him. They discussed how forgiveness was more for the person offering it than the person receiving it. I’d never thought about it that way. I walked back to my building, drinking my smoothie and mentally preparing myself for my meeting today.
I showered and dressed in my gray skirt suit with white pinstripes. I paired it with my silver blouse and my silver and white plaid sweater vest. I finished the outfit with my black So Kate Louboutin pumps and my pearl Chanel pin on the top button of my blouse.
I examined myself in the mirror after spraying oil sheen on my freshly cut fade. I opted to keep my hair short because hair is one less thing I have to worry about in the mornings.
I called a car service and pulled up fifteen minutes later to a tall glass building. The sign on the front of the building proudly displayed Valentine Law Group in large white letters. I walked through the glass doors and up to the security desk.
“Good morning. I’m Averie Patterson. I have a meeting with Mr…”
“Ms. Patterson?”
I heard someone behind me call my name. I turned around to see a tall, milk chocolate man that had to be well over six feet tall. He wore a dark brown temple fade with short loose curls. His dark brown eyes complemented his chocolate skin. He wore a nicely tailored black suit with a red tie and white shirt.
