Boss Meets Her Match

by Janet Lee Nye

  He stared at her, openmouthed, much like the time she’d told him why his little joke at the art gallery was so insulting. “She asked about your last name, I told her your family was Hispanic. She was just asking. Lena. Believe me, it doesn’t matter to them.”

  “Really?”

  He frowned. “Of course. They aren’t like that. They aren’t prejudiced.”

  “You’re sure of that? Because your mother was...”

  “She’s always like this, Lena. Don’t take it personally. She’s not a warm cuddly kind of woman.”

  “Charles? Lena? Are you coming?”

  His mother’s smile and voice was sugar sweet and Lena knew she should just walk away right now. Take Matt with her. But she also knew how he was struggling to rebuild his relationship with his parents. The relationship he’d destroyed with his rebellion and anger. If she asked him to make a choice, she’d lose him. And despite his mother apparently winding up to be a total bitch, Matt wasn’t like that at all. The best she could hope for was that he’d see it too and make the right choice.

  “Is there a problem?” Mrs. Matthews asked as Lena and Matt took their seats.

  “Oh no,” Lena said with a smile. “I was just telling Matt how beautiful I thought your dress is. Versace?”

  “I believe so. I can’t keep track.”

  “I’m not going to talk shoes and dresses,” Mr. Matthews said. He pointed at Lena. “What’s your current top recommendation for diversification of a stagnant account?”

  Lena leaned forward with a smile. “Depends. Are you looking for fast gain or solid long-term growth?”

  “Your advice?”

  She paused while the server brought water and the menus. Listened intently to the specials. She was going to order the most expensive food this place had to offer.

  “To answer your question, sir, I can’t make a recommendation based solely on that single fact. My answer would be much different for a twenty-year-old than it would be for a fifty-year-old.”

  Mr. Matthews laughed and clapped Matt on the shoulder. “I like this one. She answers like a lawyer.”

  Matt covered her hand with his. “Good. I’m pretty fond of her myself.”

  Lena distracted herself with the menu. Lobster bisque and filet mignon. She looked up at the faces around her. Matt was reading the menu. His father was eyeing her thoughtfully. His mother looked like she was grinding her teeth down to the gums. Leftover crap from Matt’s teenage years or fear of half-Mexican grandbabies? It had been so long since she’d had to play this game at this level. Sure, she got the side eye and rude remarks from knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing idiots from time to time, but that was life. She’d found the higher the social status, the more willing to play the we-don’t-see-race game. They ignored it not because they didn’t have their prejudices, they just didn’t want to be rude. And she’d used it to her advantage. But she didn’t want to play games with Matt’s family. She loved him and wanted to be a part of his entire life. Not the cause for another rift.

  She sipped more of the champagne cocktail. He had fit in perfectly with her family. She’d been relieved to get glowing reviews from her parents. They were on board. Looking at the trap Matt had unknowingly placed her in made her squirm a little. She’d done almost the same to Matt. She’d told her parents his name and let them figure out he was white. But she had no rift with her family. She wasn’t trying to make amends with them. Matt was. Just as Hannah had told her parents up front, before they’d met him, that her fiancé was African American, Matt had told his parents her background. And here she sat, wondering what his mother’s silence on receiving the information really meant. The best she could do was ignore the little volleys being lobbed by his mother and have a long talk with him later.

  After placing their orders, Mr. Matthews turned his attention back to Lena. Where had she attended college? How she’d come to a career in finance. Him, she knew how to handle. The only color men like him saw was green. His questions revealed that he had a good working knowledge of finance, but was not an expert. She was able to answer him honestly and respectfully without sugarcoating anything.

  “Charles, stop badgering the woman about money. She’s not at work now.”

  Lena smiled. “It’s okay. Get me started on money talk and I’ll blabber all night long.”

  “What about your family, dear? Matt told me you’re an only child?”

  “Yes. But I have quite an extended family with lots of cousins, so I never really felt like an only child.”

  “Really? Is that unusual?”

  Lena managed to keep her expression in polite society mode. Her inner face was rolling its eyes. Here we go. “Unusual?”

  “No disrespect, but aren’t Hispanic families usually quite large?”

  Lena met her eyes unflinchingly. Her mother had fertility problems and she was the miracle baby she was told she’d never have. But Mrs. Matthews had no right to that information. “No. Families come in all sizes. No matter...” Acrid tones of anger tainted her words even though she’d tried not to let it show.

  “Is that Mose?” Matt asked, taking Lena’s hand in his.

  His parents turned to look in the direction he was pointing, but Lena looked at him. He shook his head and leaned close.

  “Don’t let her bait you.”

  Her fury was burning brighter. She wasn’t going to sit here and take this. Mrs. Matthews was not some clueless person tripping over her own ignorance. She was being deliberately hurtful.

  “She’s doing it on purpose,” she mouthed back. She turned to face his mother.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Matthews, have I done or said something to offend you?”

  “No. I’m sorry, Lena,” Mrs. Matthews said in a not-sorry-at-all tone of voice, “But you need to understand something. What my son needs to understand. This is just not how we do things in our family.”

  “Not. How. You. Do. What?”

  “Anne,” Mr. Matthews said. “What are you doing?”

  “Charles,” his mother said, her gaze hot on Lena’s as she motioned to Matt. “He’s always tried to find ways to shock us, to embarrass us. You seem like a very nice young lady, and it is wrong for him to do this...”

  “Mom!”

  “Anne, stop this right now. Lena, this is not how...”

  “No,” Mrs. Matthews said, staring at Matt. “It isn’t right. Charles, this is a new low for you. To bring her here, let her think she’d have a place in our family. I’m ashamed of you for treating her like this.”

  “New low?” Matt choked out. “This is a new low for you, Mother.”

  “Lena, please,” Mr. Matthews said. “There is a misunderstanding here.”

  Lena picked the napkin off her lap and slowly placed it on the table. She reached for her purse with shock-numb fingers and pushed back in her chair. “I’ll be leaving now.”

  Matt put his hand over hers. “Lena. Don’t go. This is just a misunderstanding. Mother, apologize.”

  She slipped her hand away from his. “This is not a misunderstanding. Goodbye.”

  She vaguely heard Matt calling for her as she crossed the restaurant floor. Head high. Back straight. Strong, confident strides. Ignore the tears. You can cry later. Don’t give any of them the satisfaction.

  He caught up to her at the car. “Lena, wait. I’m so sorry. I had no idea she’d act like that.”

  She pulled open the car door. “Well. You should have.”

  “Yes. I should have. I was all caught up in them being so accepting of my apology, that I thought... I don’t know, that they were accepting me.”

  “Ms. Reyes.”

  She turned to see Matt’s father approaching them. Her glare should have burned him to the ground.

  “I apologize for my wife’s inexcusable behavior. This
is not who we are. She’s angry at Charles, not you. I know that doesn’t make it better or right, but I wanted to tell you I am sorry she acted this way.”

  Biting down on the conciliatory words that wanted to smooth down the whole situation, Lena nodded. Apologies didn’t matter. The words were said. They could never be unsaid.

  “I hear you,” she said. He’d been nice. It was the least she could give him.

  Get in. Drive away. Leave him and his complete bitch mother behind. She looked over the car at Matt. He had no right to stand there looking like a kicked puppy. “Get in,” she said curtly and climbed into the car.

  He came around and slid into the passenger’s seat as she started the engine. “Lena...”

  “Don’t talk to me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  IT WAS GOING to be a long, uncomfortable ride back to Charleston. Matt clenched his jaw and lightly bounced his head off the headrest. Idiot. How could you be so stupid? They will never accept you. Accept the things you love. Whether it’s art or a woman. Shame burned through him. He’d done this. He should have realized what she was planning when she asked about Lena’s name. His stupidity had placed Lena squarely in his mother’s crosshairs. The worst part was that he knew his mother wasn’t like this, but she’d done it just to hurt him. She had attacked Lena for the sole purpose of hurting him. This was all his fault.

  They reached the intersection of Main Road and Savannah Highway. Instead of the right turn that would take them into downtown Charleston, Lena continued straight across Savannah to Bees Ferry Road.

  “Where...”

  “Not one word.”

  Her tone was still deadly and he slumped against the car door. He’d messed everything up. Maybe his parents were right. He was a screwup. He didn’t even know how to begin to apologize for the horrible things his mother had said. Or his role in allowing them to be said. Lena was right. He was every label she’d stuck on him. Trustafarian. Frat boy.

  Soon, they were on the Interstate, heading west. He had no idea where they were going but kept his mouth shut. He was about to get dumped. And it was probably going to be epic. Propping his elbow against the window, he covered his eyes. Wherever she was going, he hoped it wasn’t too far. He just wanted it to be over. The shame he felt and the fury at his mother and the disappointment of his failed attempt to mend fences with his parents was enough. Lena was about to break his heart and there was nothing he could do or say.

  The car came to a hard stop and he opened his eyes. It was dark but a handful of streetlights illuminated a small trio of single-wide mobile homes that had clearly seen better days. Lena got out of the car and he followed. Down the long road, he could see similar clusters of trailers.

  “This,” Lena said, taking a few steps into the weedy grass and spreading her arms. “This is where I grew up. In that trailer, right there.”

  Her voice was low and quiet, humming with pride and fury. Matt pushed his hands in his pockets and forced himself to keep quiet and listen. It was all he could do.

  “My grandfather crossed the border at fifteen. He became a citizen at twenty-five. My mother was a second-generation American citizen. My grandparents, my parents, my aunts and uncles, they all worked. In the fields. On roofs. Planting gardens for uptight rich white people who don’t want to see us, but they sure did want to use us for cheap labor. Any and every job they could find from sunrise to sundown. With one goal in mind—to get me through college. Get all the kids through college And they did it. Twelve of us. To college thanks to their sweat and blood.”

  “My mother is an ass,” he said.

  “No! Your mother is a bigot.” She advanced on him and stabbed a finger in his chest. “You are an ass, Charles Beaumont Matthews the goddamn Fifth. Telling me to stay there and listen to that racist bullshit coming out of her mouth. You think because you come down here out of your rich white world to play with us, that you are enlightened somehow. You aren’t. If you were, you would have known that your parents would never accept a brown person in their family.”

  Her words stung. Possibly more than his imminent loss of her love. He hadn’t thought he was just playing in her world. He thought he was just living his life, doing the things he loved. He nodded. “I should have.”

  “Take a good look at this place, Matt. I pulled my family out of here. I built my business. I built that house on Edisto for them. I paid cash for my condo and that fancy car you just dragged yourself out of. I did that. From here. The only work your mother ever did was making sure the right sperm hit the right egg so she could win the genetic lottery and end up in another, even richer white family. You tell her to go to hell. You tell her she is so far beneath my brown, overbreeding family that I don’t give a damn what she thinks. I know who I am. I know where I’m from.”

  She stared at him. Even now, even when he’d screwed up beyond anything he’d ever screwed up before, and that was a lot, his heart filled with an aching love for her. Everything she said was one of the many things he loved about her. That strength, that courage. She’d created an entire life.

  “I know you do,” he said quietly.

  She turned away and walked toward the car. “Get in the car.”

  “I’ll call a cab.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. No cab is going to come for you in this neighborhood. Get in the car before you get yourself killed.”

  * * *

  BACK IN HER CONDO, Lena kicked off her shoes and stripped out of her fancy dress as she crossed to the bedroom. Her hands were still shaking in impotent fury. She held on to that rage. How could he? How could he? Because the instant the rage left, the pain was going to come. A pain she didn’t want to feel because it meant his mother had won. She’d gotten to her, inflicted a wound with her hateful words.

  She pulled on her most comfortable leggings and a T-shirt. Poured an extra-large glass of wine. Sat on the couch. How had she been so completely wrong? The rage collapsed under sheer exhaustion. Every day. Sass jumped up beside her and leaned against her, purring. As if she could sense the bubble of pain that was welling up within Lena.

  She fumbled for her phone.

  “I need you,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the words.

  “I’m on the way,” Sadie answered.

  Thirty minutes later, she was letting Sadie in. She’d managed to wash off her makeup without looking at herself in the mirror but the sight of her best friend rolling through the door with a bag full of sushi, a couple of bottles of wine and her favorite salted-caramel-dark-chocolate bars knocked down the last wall and the tears came.

  “Come on,” Sadie murmured as she wrapped her arms around Lena. “Sit down.”

  How long they sat on the couch, Lena sobbing and Sadie just quietly holding her and passing the occasional tissue, Lena had no idea.

  “I hate this,” she wailed once the tears had slowed to a trickle.

  “I know you do. Blow your nose.”

  Lena went to the kitchen—much better than the bathroom with its mirrors—and blew her nose. Splashing cold water on her face, she dreaded what her eyes were going to look like in the morning. She returned to the couch and curled back up in the shelter of Sadie’s arms.

  “I’m going out on a limb here and guess meeting the parents didn’t go well?”

  “It was horrible.”

  “Do I have to go beat anyone up?”

  Lena pushed away and turned to sit facing Sadie. “No. Although if his mother got bitch slapped by a random stranger, I wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

  “What happened?”

  Lena shook her head and grabbed for the wineglass. What had happened? “It was like a nightmare unfolding in slow motion, Sades. I knew exactly what was going to happen but I was trying to ignore it. Trying to give them the benefit of the doubt for Matt’s sake.”

&nbs
p; “And?”

  “First of all, I kept asking him if his parents were okay with meeting me. And he said yes.”

  Sadie raised her hand. “Okay, dumb question here. Did he not tell them you weren’t Buffy from Kappa Phi?”

  “He said his mother asked about my last name and he told her I was Hispanic. He said she left it at that. It’s all okay until a brown person comes home.”

  “Okay. So what happened?”

  “His father was actually nice. It was his mother. She got completely nasty. Then she accused Matt of using me to shock them.”

  “Holy hell,” Sadie said slowly. “What happened then?”

  “I started to leave, but Matt tried to stop me, was making excuses for her. I left after that.”

  “You just walked out?”

  “Yep.”

  “Have you spoken to Matt? What’s he got to say about this?”

  “He came with me. I took him to the trailer park. Told him his mother was a bigot and my family was way better than his any day and his mother wasn’t fit to wipe my feet on.”

  “So you let him off easy, then?”

  Lena covered her face with her hands. Tears streamed between her fingers. “I can’t believe I thought it would be different,” she whispered.

  “You thought it’d be different? How?”

  “That he’d told them. That it wouldn’t matter.”

  “It shouldn’t have. That’s where I’m confused. He told them you were Hispanic. His dad was being a nice guy. Then his mother pulls this crap out of the blue? What did Matt say?”

  “Not much. I think he knew there was nothing he could say. He just apologized and listened to me yell at him.”

  “So, it was completely unexpected on his part too?”

  “He should have known. He knows her. She’s his freaking mother for God’s sake.”

  “You thought your parents would freak out if you brought a white man home and they adore him. Come on, Lena. Eat something. You’re hungry. Enough wine.”

  Sadie slid off the couch to sit on the floor in front of the coffee table. She moved Lena’s wineglass to her side of the table and began to pull trays of sushi out of the bag. Lena sat beside her.