Conscious Bias

by Alexi Venice

  Shelby smiled and grabbed Monica’s arm. “Don’t be. You’re not taking advantage.”

  The raging blaze in Shelby’s eyes told Monica that Shelby wanted more, so Monica leaned in and kissed her again. Shelby’s lips parted, and Monica did a free-fall into warmth and softness and sweetness. However, bending into the car like that was taking a toll on Monica’s back, forcing her to break away. “Sorry. Awkward angle.”

  Shelby cupped Monica’s chin. “Not for me. You’re a good kisser.”

  “Thanks.” Monica closed Shelby’s door, stood and stretched her back, and rounded the pickup to the driver’s side. She said I’m a good kisser! Yay!

  The air crackled with passion as Monica dropped into her seat and turned the key in the ignition. Why am I so nervous?

  “Thanks for doing this,” Shelby said. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your morning.”

  Monica smiled as she backed out of the space and drove out of the lot. “No worries. I want to help.”

  “Help me or want me?” Shelby asked.

  “Did I say, ‘want you?’” Monica asked. “Because that’s what I was thinking.”

  “You said you only wanted to help me, but I want you to say you want me.” Shelby placed her hand over Monica’s for emphasis.

  Monica’s other hand gripped the wheel in a bundle of nerves.

  “Tell me you want me,” Shelby repeated in a sultry whisper.

  A nervous sigh escaped Monica. “Isn’t it obvious from the way I kissed you?”

  “I want to hear you say it,” Shelby said playfully.

  “Are you going to ask me to say stuff like this in bed?” Monica teased.

  “Tell me you want me, sexy,” Shelby moved her hand to Monica’s thigh and squeezed.

  Monica gasped, her insides howling like a hungry coyote. “I want you” flew out of her mouth before she could stop it.

  “I want you too.” Shelby rewarded Monica by tickling her inner thigh. “And yes, I might make you say stuff like this in bed. It turns me on.”

  Monica temporarily saw stars, had a mini-stroke, then suffered a blackout. She didn’t know how she kept the truck on the road. This woman is giving me a heart attack.

  Shelby continued to caress Monica’s inner thigh while directing her to a charming, older neighborhood where the average age of a house was 100 years. They pulled into a narrow driveway next to a white house with black shutters. A screened porch ran the full length of the front. Monica spotted a swinging bench and smiled, a vision of Shelby and her kissing there filling her mind. “What a charming house.”

  “Thanks,” Shelby said. “It’s what I can afford on my modest teacher’s salary.”

  “It looks perfect.” Monica got out of the truck first. She took a deep breath to catch up from holding her breath while Shelby rubbed her thigh. She opened Shelby’s door.

  Shelby swung her feet around and cautiously stepped out—right into Monica’s arms. “Hey, you.”

  Monica took the initiative this time, kissing Shelby squarely on the lips, then going in for the kill.

  Shelby met Monica’s tongue, twist for tangle and tangle for twist.

  The warmth. The velvety softness. The depth. Monica’s body was transported to a different time and place, as she closed her eyes and experienced all of her Shelby-fantasies coming true. Well, not all of them. Yet.

  She heard herself moan as Shelby’s hand moved to the back of Monica’s head, anchoring her for a proper ravishing. Long and slow. Exploring. Teasing. Building with passion. Nibbling on her lower lip. Feeling the intensity. The intimacy. Monica’s legs turned to rubber, there in the driveway, the two of them wedged against the open car door.

  The universe aligned itself, and Monica felt simultaneously at home and ablaze with desire. Her hands, having a mind of their own, flew to Shelby’s back and embraced her with such force and strength that Shelby momentarily broke from their kiss to say, “My back is a little sore there.”

  “Oh my God, I forgot,” Monica said against Shelby’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing,” Shelby said. “I like physical—when I’m not injured, that is.” She stroked Monica’s neck, smoothing back the black strands that were hanging loose. “Want to come in and shower with me?”

  All the energy in Monica’s body pooled into a vortex of desire. Monica kissed Shelby on the cheek and whispered, “I’d like that more than anything, but I feel like I’d be taking advantage. Let’s wait till your back feels normal.”

  “You’re right.” Shelby sighed. “I’d be a pillow princess, and I don’t want you to think of me that way the first time we’re together.”

  Monica held Shelby by the waist, not wanting to let go. “I’ll go home and shower, then stop back to pick you up for work—if you feel well enough, that is.”

  Shelby tilted her head up and smiled. “That sounds great.”

  “Can you make it inside on your own?” Monica asked.

  “I think so.”

  “I guess that means I have to let you go.”

  Shelby laughed. “Yeah.”

  They reluctantly dropped their hands, and Monica watched Shelby walk slowly up the driveway to the back door. Her back was obviously still in pain because her left hip tilted up a bit.

  “Take some ibuprofen,” Monica said to Shelby’s back.

  Shelby waved her hand in the air while walking toward her door.

  Monica waited until Shelby unlocked her kitchen door and went inside before getting back into her truck. As she backed out of the driveway, she didn’t notice the man pointing a camera at her from inside a nondescript car parked down the block.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Monica dropped off a tender, but dressed-for-art-class, Shelby at her Jeep in the MoFit parking lot. In an effort to meet their work obligations, they hugged but didn’t ignite the passion they knew wouldn’t easily turn off once rekindled. They needed time and privacy, neither of which they had this morning.

  Monica rushed to the SDW law firm, where, upon entering, she sensed a strained atmosphere. Bad vibes floated on the air, so she avoided interaction, as she made a beeline to her office. She stood for a second and sized up its contents, gauging the number of boxes she would need to pack up. In actuality, she had very few personal items, calculating that it would take her only about an hour to pack up her shit and get the hell out.

  She had a completely different feeling about the space now, anxious to leave and start her own firm, where acceptance and gratitude would be the prevailing sentiments. Positive vibes. Truthful vibes. Grateful vibes. Maybe I should stencil that onto the wall of my new office. She smiled for her own amusement.

  Her phone chimed with an incoming text from Mike. Jury is still deliberating. The Seifs would like to meet at the hospital conference room to discuss something. Can you be there in an hour?

  Sure, she replied. Do I need to prepare? What’s the issue?

  No prep necessary, he texted. All good.

  See you there, she typed.

  She picked up her desk phone.

  “Hey Al, it’s Monica. The Seifs want to meet in the conference room in an hour. Are you available?”

  “I can make myself available. What is it about?”

  “Mike wouldn’t tell me, but he said, ‘It’s all good.’”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Al asked. “Do you think they found out I’m Jewish and are angry about the Chaim Gross collection?”

  Monica did a doubletake. Her mind hadn’t gone there. “Ah, I doubt that very much. I think we should trust Mike’s text that it’s all good.”

  “I have a bad premonition about this. Arabs and Jews don’t get along, but I haven’t visited the Middle East, so I don’t pretend to know where the Seifs stand.”

  “Oh, and see I don’t share that premonition at all,” she said. “They seem like very nice people to me, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  “That’s because you’re Catholic. You don’t know fear; onl
y guilt.”

  Should I blurt out right now that I’m scared as hell to tell you I’m gay? She might risk looking like she was trying to one-up him, so she bit the inside of her cheek, opting for silence.

  He sighed. “I’ll prepare for the worst and hope for the best.”

  “Good plan. See you in an hour.”

  She reached into her laptop case and removed the partnership agreement and loan document that Jim had given them last night. She was determined to return it to him today. She was a page into it when Richard Smart knocked on her open door, his father, Charles, right behind him. I seriously don’t have time for these assholes.

  “Yes?” she asked, all business.

  “May we come in?” Richard asked.

  “Please do.” She indicated the chairs in front of her desk. Charles started to close the door behind them, but she interrupted him. “Please leave the door open, Charles.”

  He was taken aback at her command but abided her. “If you say so.”

  Little alarm bells started ringing in the back of her head, prompting her to take precautions. “Before we get started, I think I’d like to ask Jim Daniels to join us. Do you mind?”

  “This concerns you, not him,” Richard said.

  “Just the same, I think I want him here.” Before they could protest again, she buzzed Jim.

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “Jim, could you join Richard, Charles and myself for an impromptu meeting in my office?” she asked.

  “Sure. About what?” he asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  He must have picked up on her cautionary tone. “Be right there.”

  They sat in silence waiting for Jim. Monica looked at the partnership agreement on her desk and casually turned it over. While doing so, she noticed her handheld Dictaphone lying beside it. She recalled there was a fresh tape in it.

  “Hello everyone,” Jim said, pulling up a chair. “What’s up?”

  When Richard and Charles looked at Jim, Monica surreptitiously turned on the Dictaphone to record mode.

  “I’ll tell you what’s up,” Richard said, already angry. “Monica is defiling the reputation of this firm!”

  What the fuck?! Monica thought. Quite the opening statement.

  “How?” Jim asked in disbelief.

  “First, she’s completely sided with the Seif family in the murder trial against a prestigious client of this firm—” Richard said.

  “Wait one minute,” Jim said. “Monica is representing the hospital, a job that I asked her to do. She prepped the doctors and is monitoring the trial at Al Bowman’s request.”

  “She’s sitting on the Seif side of the courtroom and talking with them during breaks,” Richard said.

  “So?” Jim asked.

  “The McKnight family sees what’s going on!” Charles said, taking over for Richard. “They’re keeping score, and they now have Smart, Daniels & Whitworth in the enemy column, all thanks to her!” Charles pointed at Monica as if she were on trial for being a witch.

  “First, we haven’t done work for Dave McKnight in a couple of years,” Jim said. “Second, I wouldn’t conduct myself any differently if I were Monica. Al Bowman and I asked her to do the work for the hospital, and she has my full support. You guys are cracked. Stop embarrassing yourselves.”

  “Al Bowman is a Jew,” Charles said. “I’d rather do work for David McKnight.”

  Monica gasped on a sharp intake of breath. She didn’t disguise her disgust, looking at Jim to say something.

  “You’ve lost your mind, Charles,” Jim said. “That’s a very dangerous and ignorant thing to say, much less think. I can’t tell you how little I think of you right now. I respect Al Bowman, and would sooner have him over to my house for dinner than you or your son.”

  “I wouldn’t come to your house for dinner anyway,” Charles snarled.

  “That’s not all!” Richard exclaimed, dropping one argument in favor of another. “Look at these pictures!” He opened his iPhone and showed the screen to Jim.

  “Jesus Christ, Richard!” Jim exclaimed. “Have you lost your mind? Have you been stalking Monica?”

  “Of course not. I had her followed by my private investigator. And, as I expected, she’s engaging in conduct that is NOT becoming of a lawyer at this firm,” Richard said.

  “Slutty, sinful conduct,” Charles hissed like a prosecutor of the Salem witch trials.

  Monica was floored. “Let me see.”

  Richard pivoted and leaned over her desk, shining his phone in her face. There was a pic of her kissing Shelby in her driveway—just this morning!

  Monica’s eyes grew wide, and she covered her mouth. You dirty rat bastards! She had the presence of mind to pull out her own phone and take a picture of Richard holding his phone out to her. The resolution was remarkably good, capturing the pic of Shelby and Monica kissing too.

  “What the fuck?!” Richard said. “Delete that pic!”

  “I will not,” she said, shoving her phone in her pocket.

  “Goddamn it, Richard, sit down!” Jim thundered.

  They all looked at him. Jim closed his eyes and remained calm, which she could tell was a monumental effort. When he reopened his eyes, he directed them with laser hatred at Charles, then Richard, then back to Charles. “What is the meaning of spying on Monica, completely invading her privacy?”

  She wanted to hear these bastards say it. SAY IT!

  “We cannot tolerate behavior of this sort by a lawyer here. It was bad enough to hear that Nathan Taylor was gay—” Charles said.

  “I called it,” Richard interrupted, thrusting his finger into the air.

  “—but now this,” Charles continued. “A lesbian on our staff. That is not going to fly here. We cannot have these…people…representing our firm and doing work for our clients.”

  Monica wanted to rip his face off. What year are we living in?

  “I can’t believe you dumb fucks think that, much less are willing to say it out loud. Are you saying you’re going to fire Monica if she doesn’t stop being a lesbian?” Jim asked.

  “Yes!” Charles spat. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m prepared to bring it to a partnership vote today if I have to.”

  Monica decided now was the time to enter the fray. “What do you mean, ‘if you have to?’”

  “I’m giving you the chance—here and now—to agree to stop this licentious conduct in order to keep your job.”

  “You mean, stop being a lesbian in order to keep my job?” she asked.

  “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean,” he yelled loud and clear.

  Richard glowered at her with a victorious expression.

  Monica looked at Jim. “I think that violates several state and federal laws. What do you think, Jim?”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more, Monica. If I were you, I’d sue them.”

  Charles let out a dramatic snort full of righteous indignation. “You’re encouraging her to sue the firm? Our firm?”

  “You bet I am,” Jim said. “I’ve warned you for years that your biased views constitute unlawful discrimination. Now, you’ve stepped over the line, my friend. Under any legal analysis, Monica has a claim for discrimination against you and Richard.”

  “Well…I never…” Charles stammered.

  “I’ll walk away from this firm for $100,000,” Monica said. “Jim, draw up a settlement agreement and release, and I’ll pack up my office. I want the agreement signed and a check in my hand by the end of business today.”

  “Done,” Jim said.

  “One hundred thousand dollars?!” Charles exclaimed. “Over my dead body. I deny everything.”

  Monica picked up her Dictaphone, hit stop, rewind, then play. The conversation was recorded in crystal clear tone.

  “Give me that,” Richard said, rising out of his chair.

  “Sit back down, you asshole, or I’ll kick the shit out of you myself,” Jim said in a dangerously low voice.

  Richard s
at.

  “Charles, my advice is to take the $100,000 settlement. She’ll get three times that much if she sues, plus attorneys’ fees,” Jim said.

  “The firm can’t afford—” Charles said.

  “The firm isn’t paying a dime,” Jim said. “That money is coming out of your personal account. You’re not acting on behalf of the partnership in this meeting. You and Richard are acting on your own misguided and unlawful whims. Now you’ll pay for them. I’ll draw up the settlement agreement and bring it to you within the hour. You better fucking sign it, or I’ll make you wish you had.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Charles said, then rose from his chair and stormed out, Richard trailing behind.

  Jim got up and closed the door. He turned and smiled at Monica. “That went well.”

  “I thought so too. Guess I won’t have to sign that loan document after all,” Monica said. “Although I now know what a Pyrrhic victory feels like. I think I just took a major beating by some bigots who will never change their views.”

  “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

  “Well, I have to let that go,” she said. “Change the world one step at a time and all that. What would you think about you and I having an equal vote in our new partnership if I invest the same amount of money as you?”

  “Sounds perfect to me,” he said.

  “When are you going to tell Charles you’re leaving this firm?”

  “Next week sometime,” he said. “After your check clears.”

  She saluted him. “Well played, my friend.”

  “Likewise. Guess you have some packing to do.”

  “I have to run over to the hospital first. The Seifs want to meet with Al again.”

  “Good luck,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye on things here while you’re gone.”

  “Thanks. Make sure they don’t steal my stuff!” She picked up her Dictaphone and ejected the small cassette tape. “I’m taking this with me.”

  “Good plan,” he said. “I think we scared the shit out of them. You have no idea how happy I am to be leaving this place.”

  “That makes two of us.”