Conscious Bias

by Alexi Venice

  “Yeah. That’s perfect.”

  “Hurt your back again, Shelby?” Craig asked, kneeling in front of her.

  “Yeah,” she said. “It spasmed during Captain Morgans.”

  “Have you been to your massage therapist lately?” he asked.

  “Not since school started,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “Too busy.”

  Monica’s hands became more courageous, kneading the corded muscles below Shelby’s shoulder blades then fanning out along her rib cage, eliciting a moan.

  “Too hard?”

  “Nooo,” Shelby said. “Just right. I actually think that maneuver released something. My back feels much better.”

  “Good,” Monica said, secretly disappointed that she had to stop. When Shelby rolled onto her back, Monica’s hands almost flew to Shelby’s front, but she clasped them behind her back to prevent runaway desire.

  They were eye-to-eye, uncomfortably close. Dangerously close. Temptingly close. If Monica had lowered herself only a few inches, she could’ve kissed Shelby. Instead, she smiled. When Shelby did too, a spark of heat flared between them.

  “Thank you.” Shelby rested her hand on Monica’s knee. “Help me up?”

  Monica rocked back onto her heels and stood, extending her hand to Shelby, who took it and slowly rose, testing her ability to stand. She gingerly reached for the sky and stretched her back. “I think I can move again. Thank you.”

  “Maybe you should take it easy,” Monica said.

  “Yeah. I’ll put away my stuff, and go home and shower.”

  “I’ll put away your equipment. Just take care of yourself.”

  “I owe you.” Shelby squeezed Monica’s forearm. The smirk played at the right corner of her upper lip, but it was tempered with pain.

  Hot lava melted Monica’s heart. She stood there like an idiot, not saying anything. Not moving.

  Shelby waited a second then dropped her hand, breaking contact. “Okay, I should go now. Enjoy the rest of your workout.”

  “See you in a few days.” Monica watched Shelby walk through the gym, her back obviously tight, causing her left hip to angle up a bit. Monica’s heart went out to her. She wanted to walk her to her car, and maybe even follow her home, to provide only comfort, but she snuffed out the fleeting thought. Reluctantly, so reluctantly, she jumped back into the workout, joining everyone else in more Bulgarian split squats, making her glutes scream. God, I hate this class. God, I love this class. God, I hate this class. God, I want her. I need to make a move to see her outside of class. SDW be damned.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Later that morning, Monica sulked at her desk, lamenting that she had no ready connection to ask Shelby about her sore back. Did she like my mini-massage?

  They hadn’t exchanged phone numbers and didn’t follow each other on social media, so Monica couldn’t send Shelby a message inquiring. Well, technically, she could send Shelby a friend request on Facebook, but that seemed too forward. Too fast. Monica was soooo out of practice in the dating game, and didn’t want to come off as desperate.

  Monica’s hands replayed the sensation of rubbing Shelby’s back. If Monica could hold onto a memorable touch for the rest of her life, Shelby’s blindingly toned body would be it. It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have denied myself a romance for three reeeeaaaaally long years in the prime of my life. What was I thinking? How stupid. Well, there was that brief encounter last year with what’s-her-name at Erika and Andrew’s wedding, but that doesn’t count. We were pretty drunk, and she went back to New York.

  Monica tried to focus on her email inbox, but her heart wasn’t ready to stop daydreaming about Shelby. Would Shelby even be interested in me outside the gym if I asked? Beautiful. Sweet. Sexy. Smart. The sexiest woman at the gym. What would she want with me, a chunky lawyer? Out of my league.

  Monica’s romantic obsession was rudely interrupted by the ring of her desk phone. The display indicated it was a call from the hospital, so she picked up.

  “Monica Spade,” she said in the clearest voice she could muster.

  “Hi Monica. It’s Al.”

  “Good morning. What can I do for you?”

  “At this point, what can’t you do for me?” he asked. “It’s been a helluva of a week.”

  “That—it has. But, look at it this way, in a few months, this will all be behind us, and hospital business will be back to normal. Is the monkey recovery team in place?”

  “The exterminators?” he said.

  “Let’s not call them ‘exterminators,’” she said. “Wally Leib has threatened to make this public if we don’t return Marcus alive to Darcy.”

  “Of course she has,” he said sarcastically. “The monkey recovery team arrived last night. They’re going to track and tranquilize Marcus today. We’re clearing out the basement right now, so they can hunt him. No employees allowed. That’s all I need—for another employee to get shot, this time with a tranquilizer gun.”

  “Speaking of which,” Monica said. “How is the tased kitchen employee doing?”

  “She’s fine. She was mildly electrocuted but recovered. I met with her and her husband, and they said they’d think about how much money they want and get back to me with a figure.”

  “That’s a good sign.”

  “I called our workers’ comp carrier, and they told me they wouldn’t cover it,” he said.

  “I’m not surprised,” she said. “Getting tased isn’t in the usual course of her job. Give me a call when you arrive at a settlement amount, and I’ll draw up the agreement.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “And you’re sure Marcus is still in the basement?”

  “Yeah, we have him on video from last night. If Darcy shows up this morning, she can wait in the conference room in Administration. Can you run interference on that by contacting her lawyer?”

  “No worries. I’ll call Wally as soon as we hang up.”

  “I have to get this monkey once and for all. Can you imagine if Marcus went running down the hall when the Seif family was visiting?”

  “Out of the question,” she said. “No going to the cafeteria in the basement. We need to meet privately in a conference room then take the Seifs on a short tour to the CCU where Abdul was admitted.”

  “Like they’d want to eat our food anyway,” he said. “Any word on their arrival?”

  “Mike tells me they’re flying in late tonight and would like to meet with you and the doctors tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be ready. Call me as soon as you hear.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “I just remembered something else,” he said in the manner of someone who had forgotten a task. “My assistant took a message from Tiffany, the reporter at WQOD news. Tiffany was calling to get a reaction about the McKnight trial. Will you call her back and give a statement on behalf of the hospital?

  “Sure,” she said. “What would you like the gist of the statement to be?”

  “That Trevor McKnight killed Abdul Seif, not us,” he said emphatically.

  She smiled. “I’ll think of something that will convey that without saying it directly.”

  “Perfect,” he said. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, but I can’t remember.”

  She gave him a second. When he didn’t say anything, she asked, “The stadium deal. Did you authorize buying materials from McKnight Construction?”

  “Right!” he exclaimed. “That! No one authorized the stadium to buy $1 million worth of building materials from McKnight Construction. It’s tantamount to embezzlement of corporate funds.”

  “I didn’t want to believe the numbers when I first saw them, but I knew they didn’t add up.”

  “I’m impressed that you bothered to check the spreadsheet at all,” he said. “Most lawyers would have breezed right past it.”

  “My job is to have your back in this deal, and that means double checking the quarterly financials.”

  “That’s why you work fo
r the good guys. I’ll make sure to tell Jim about your million-dollar catch.”

  “Thanks,” she said, pride swelling in her chest.

  “I called Milton at the university. He and I decided to buy out McKnight’s share in the project.”

  “Smart move. Is McKnight willing to sell?”

  “They don’t have a choice,” he said. “Either they sell at a reasonable price, or we make a complaint to the police for embezzlement. I’ll bet you anything the materials that McKnight sold to the stadium had a 30% markup on them.”

  “At least. What an underhanded move—to rip off your partners. It’s criminal.”

  “Makes me wonder what kind of shenanigans McKnight has been pulling all over town.”

  “We don’t want to know.”

  “Good point. Will you talk to Christina and draw up the paperwork?”

  “You bet.” She scribbled another line on her to-do list.

  “I think we’ve reached the last item on my list,” he said.

  “Email me if you think of anything else.”

  “Trust me, I will. Likewise.”

  They said goodbye and hung up.

  She picked up her pen and jotted down potential talking points to share with Tiffany at WQOD. Community Memorial Hospital conveys its deepest sympathy to the Seif family. All of the health care providers tried valiantly tried their hardest to save his life, but the injury to his brain head was too severe. We are so sorry that he passed away despite modern technology and medical interventions.

  Shit, she thought, I can’t say any of that unless the Seif family authorizes me to. Damn privacy laws!

  Deep in thought, she was startled by Nathan sailing into her office and slamming the door. “Whatever you do,” he said, jabbing his finger into the air, “do NOT come out at this firm.” He punctuated his anger by slicing a large Z into the air.

  “Why?” She set down her pen. “What happened?”

  “My work dried up like that!” He snapped his fingers.

  “What do you mean? They took your files?”

  “Yes!”

  “No waaay. How?”

  “Charles sent Richard-the-frat-boy into my office to pick up fourteen litigation files I have for the insurance company.”

  “I can’t believe it. What did he say?”

  “He asked me if I had any files in my office for the names he read from a list. I told him I do almost everything electronically, but there were red ropes in a stack on the floor with pleadings and discovery documents in them.”

  “Did he take them and run?”

  “Pretty much,” Nathan said. “He bent down and scooped them up then said, ‘Dad wants me to work on these now. There’s no need for you to do anything else on them.’”

  “Oh no. What are you going to do?” She ran her hand through her thick, black hair then pulled it back into a pony.

  “I called the litigation rep at the insurance company and told her exactly what was going on.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘Over my dead body! I’m calling Charles and telling him I want you on my cases.’”

  “Did she?” Monica asked. “I mean, call Charles?”

  “No need to,” he said. “I told her I was going to Christina Fox’s law firm, so I could take the files with me if she wanted me to.”

  “You’re what?!” Monica asked.

  “You heard me,” he said, a huge grin on his face. “I’m joining Fox Law Offices.”

  “No fucking way!” She sprang out of her chair and hugged him. “I’m so happy for you, but kinda jealous too, and sort of scared to stay here all by myself.”

  “You need to leave. You’ll die if you stay,” he said.

  “I know, but I love working on the hospital account, and it’s Jim’s client.”

  “Aren’t you super tight with the president of the hospital?”

  “Al?” she asked. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’d follow me if I left. I’m sure he’s loyal to Jim and the firm. God, I haven’t even come out to him.”

  “If I can do it, so can you,” he said. “Listen, I have to go make a ton of calls, but let’s talk more about your exit plan. Today is turning into a race to keep clients. Once the partners get wind that I’m notifying clients I’m leaving and taking them with me, they’ll kick me out.”

  “Oh geez. Go do whatever you need to.” She pointed animatedly at the door.

  “Talk later.” He left quickly.

  As she returned to her chair, her phone rang. The display indicated it was Fox Law Offices.

  “This is Monica Spade.”

  “Hi Monica, it’s Christina.”

  “Congratulations,” Monica said. “I hear Nathan is joining your firm.”

  “I see that good news travels fast.”

  “Yes. He just told me.”

  “Sounds like an unhealthy environment at SDW.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s the entire firm,” Monica said, although her voice sounded hollow.

  “Do you like working there?”

  “I like doing work for the hospital, which is Jim Daniels’ client, and he and I get along.”

  “I hope he recognizes what he has in you,” Christina said. “You’re a brilliant young lawyer who already discovered a million-dollar-debacle.”

  “Gosh, thanks.”

  “If you ever consider leaving SDW, give me a call.”

  Relief flooded through Monica, spiking her confidence level. Knowing that Christina would serve as a life raft made the current situation at SDW tolerable enough to consider all options. “Thank you, Christina. That’s very generous of you and means a lot to me.”

  “Nonsense. You’d be a huge asset to my firm, and, truth be told, I’ve been courting the hospital as a client for years.”

  “Seriously, thanks.” Monica made a mental note. So she really wants the hospital as a client, not necessarily me.”

  “Standing offer.” Christina waited a minute to let that sink in. “Now, down to business. Milton called me and said he spoke to Al. They’re going to buy out McKnight Construction.”

  “I heard the same thing from Al.”

  “Do you want to draw up a purchase agreement or should I?”

  “I’d like to take a shot at it if you don’t mind.”

  “Go for it. Can you email me something by tomorrow or the next day?”

  “I can make that happen.” Monica scribbled it onto her burgeoning to-do list.

  “Then we’ll be done with McKnight Construction and Ben. I’m not sure how much Ben knew, but I’m going to be very cautious in my dealings with him in the future.”

  “Me too,” Monica said. “I believe him when he said that David McKnight prepared the expense reports, but I find it hard to believe that David didn’t mention to Ben that McKnight Construction was selling $1 million of materials to the stadium.”

  “I agree. Ben’s hands are dirty,” Christina said.

  “I’m new to the world of underhanded dealings, so thanks for helping me.”

  “Bring the hospital over here as your client, and we can do this all day long,” Christina said.

  Monica played with the long strands of her hair, absent-mindedly wrapping them into a bun. “Wouldn’t that be a problem if you represented the university and I represented the hospital on the same deal?”

  “Technically, that would be a conflict for the firm,” Christina said, “but the negotiation aspect is over, and I’m sure both clients would waive any potential conflict going forward.”

  “I see you’ve thought about this. I’ll think about it too.”

  “I suspect you won’t have to think for long. From what Nathan told me, the partners over there will start ostracizing you too.”

  “He told you I’m gay?” Monica asked, shocked at the rapidity with which gossip traveled.

  “Ah…no,” Christina said. “I didn’t know that, but I’m happy you have an ally. He only told me that it’s well known at SDW that you two are fr
iends, so I was thinking that the guilt-by-association thing would negatively impact you.”

  Monica blushed. Guess I’m coming out to every lawyer in town now. “Yes. That’s the least of my worries right now, though, isn’t it? When I come out at SDW, I’ll get the same treatment as Nathan.”

  “Probably,” Christina said then paused for a sec. “Do you have someone in your life?”

  Monica was thrown off balance, wondering if Christina was actually asking her, Monica, if she had a girlfriend. “Ah…”

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but my niece… She’s in med school. A real catch…but never mind.”

  “Oh,” Monica said. “I’m not uncomfortable talking about the fact that I don’t have a girlfriend right now. I just…haven’t…no one at my work knows…and I wasn’t planning to…well, yet—"

  “You’re not planning to stay in the closet for a bunch of sexist, old white guys, are you?”

  “No.” Monica was heartened by Christina’s reaction and offer to play matchmaker. “Not any longer. I recently woke up and discovered how stupid I’ve been, but I need to tell Jim first because we work together.”

  “My advice is to do that soon—before he finds out from someone else.”

  Monica sighed. “I suppose.”

  “Good luck,” Christina said. “I need to jump on another call, but I’ll be thinking about you. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “Will do. Bye.” Monica hung up. God, that was nice of her. A job offer and actually asking me about my personal life, which none of the men here do. Then trying to set me up with her niece…seriously??

  Chapter Sixteen

  Monica stared out the window at her lovely view of the parking lot. I guess this is really happening. I’m coming out at the firm. Nathan told me not to, but that was before Christina provided a safe landing spot.

  She shifted in her chair, got up, then sat back down. I’d better tell Jim before he learns it from someone else—like Mike Warner. I wonder what Mike thought about Nathan, Matt and me last night? Does he still respect us? Well, did he respect us before? After all, the lawyers at his firm call us “Slimy, Dumb and White.” Does it get any worse than that? Why the fuck do I still work here? Why did I ever work here? Sexist dickheads.