“But, I will not work in an office where you allow your employees to talk to people like he’s been speaking with me. So, if this is the culture of your firm, then as soon as this case is over, I’ll be resigning,” she says gravely.
“Confidence—” Remi starts. But she’s already turned to me.
“Hayes. What Kingdom offered is woefully insufficient to compensate the victims of the company’s negligence and disregard. You have suits that cost more than what you’re offering the individual families.”
She casts her damning eye over me again. “If you can afford to buy clothes like that, you can afford to make those people truly whole. And that’s not going to come with some cookie cutter settlement in hopes that this will go away quickly. Because that’s all that money is designed to do.” She condemns me with her honesty. What I see in her eyes is much more than disappointment. It’s disenchantment. Distance. I feel my first real pang of panic that she knows that I’m not good enough. That she really won’t forgive me. The thought grips my gut in a fist of fear. My collar is suddenly too tight and I can’t think of a single thing to say in my own defense.
She shakes her head at all of us. “None of you have even been to the sites. Talked to the people. They’re just some figment of your imagination right now,” she chastises us.
“You know what, I’ve had about enough of this. This is a business,” Asshole says in a harsh dismissal of everything she just said.
But Confidence is not easily dismissed, and while on her soapbox, with her shield held up in protection of someone else, she is persistence personified. “You’re wrong,” she insists. Her voice is bolstered by her conviction.
Asshole’s eyes narrow.
So do hers. And so do mine. My chest tightens and I tense and keep a close eye on him. His animosity for Confidence is rolling off him in waves. If she’s concerned, she doesn’t show it. She keeps pushing.
“This is the practice of law. We are lawyers. Social engineers. Or least, we should be. We are here to ensure the best possible outcome for our clients. And you want to settle because you don’t think they’re worth the price of seeking justice on their behalf,” she accuses him.
He leans toward her. Her lip curls in disgust when he speaks, his voice is a snarl.
“You’re damn straight. I am not going to worry about people who, when they die, no one will care. We represent people who are captains of industries and who will be remembered forever. The fucking flood didn’t go far enough, as far as I’m concerned.”
The woman at the table, a thirty-something blonde in a nondescript black suit, gasps.
“Jimenez,” Remi calls his name. That thread of steel is now a fully woven rope.
“Yeah?” Barry responds as if it’s an imposition to do so.
“How long have you worked here?” Remi asks.
“Five years.”
Remi actually looks surprised. “Already? Damn, time flies,” he says.
“Yes, and I care about Wilde Law. I’m not going to stand by and watch the firm undermined by what amounts to some sort of affirmative action hire. I know we wanted more women at the table, but let’s hire them for the size of their brains, not their breasts.” He shoots a venomous glance at Confidence and a rush of anger pushes me to my feet.
Both Confidence and Remi say my name at the same time.
I look to find them both watching me. Confidence with a wary alertness, Remi with anger I know isn’t directed at me.
“Then, one of you better do something about it,” I say and sit down.
“Barry, we’ll be sure to give you an excellent reference. You’re fired. Effective today,” Remi says.
Barry’s jaw drops, but he doesn’t make a sound.
No one does.
The room had been quiet before, but now, you could hear a pin drop.
Remi turns to look at the blonde. “Mila, can you take him down with you? I’m adjourning the meeting. We’ll regroup later.”
“Wait, you’re fucking firing me? For what?” Barry sputters, regaining his composure.
“For violating conduct clauses in your contract,” Remi says simply. His eyes hold the same steel as his voice.
Barry’s face crumbles. “I just bought a fucking Porsche and a put a deposit down for a pool,” he says.
“Nice priorities,” I say under my breath, and Remi shoots me a glare. I shrug unapologetically.
“I don’t deserve to be fired!” he shouts, his eyes wide. He looks around the table for support, but everyone, except for Mila and me has their face conveniently buried in a phone or iPad.
“You’ll get a month’s severance for every year you’ve worked here. With all of your experience and seniority, you’ll have a job in no time. Mila will make every resource we have available to you in pursuit of that. But you can’t work here any longer. It’s just that simple. I’m sure you understand.”
He lifts his head slowly and looks between the two of us wordlessly. His expression, completely blank.
“Barry? Are you okay?” Confidence asks. Her expression goes from concern to worry as she takes in the slack look on his face. Her voice triggers something in him because all of the sudden, his jaw tightens and his eyes focus their burning anger on her.
“Think you’re so clever, don’t you? Think you’re going to win a fucking prize or something for your stupid case? I can’t wait to see you fall flat on your face,” he says with a voice so cold and vicious that Confidence flinches and takes a step back. It takes every ounce of restraint I possess not to walk over and throw him out of the window.
“Barry, please stop making threats,” Mila says, sounding mildly bored. “I’d hate for you to leave with a police escort instead of on your own. But you better believe I’ve got my finger on security’s number.” She stands, folds her hands over her chest, and watches him impassively.
“Oh, I’m leaving. I wouldn’t give you two feminazis the satisfaction of seeing me really lose my cool,” he sneers.
“And you keep your shitty severance. I’m calling a lawyer. I’m going to take you to the cleaners, Remi,” he spits as he starts walking.
When he slams the door behind him, the windows of the conference room rattle from the force.
“What an idiot,” Mila says and walks over to where Confidence slumps over in her chair. I start toward her. She looks at me and shakes her head, no. Her blue eyes are glassy but unwavering.
“Are you okay?” Mila asks, peering down at her in concern.
“I’m fine,” Confidence says and swallows hard. “Violent men and I don’t mix,” she says with a nervous laugh. But I see the tremble in her hand when she pushes an errant curl behind her ear.
I want to kill that man for putting that there. I hate that I can’t walk over, put an arm around her. I hate this distance. I’m done letting it grow between us. It’s time to bring my woman home.
UNEXPECTED
CONFIDENCE
“That line outside is incredible,” I say, wide-eyed, to Remi as we stack the clothes that have been folded and sorted by gender and size into the bins lined along the 500-yard-long convention center room. The volunteers are all busy at work setting up their stations for the doors to open at eight o’clock. “They did a great job getting the word out and there are shuttles all day for people who need it,” I tell him.
“Yeah, the Rivers kid is putting his money where his mouth is, that’s for sure,” he says and reaches for another box of clothes the organizers just dropped off.
“Why do you call him ‘kid’?” I ask a question that’s been burning at the tip of my tongue.
“Because when I met him, that’s what he was. And now, because it annoys him,” he says with a laugh. I laugh along.
“You knew him when y’all were kids?” I ask, my curiosity about how his family’s community is named after another family.
“No. Our families have been neighbors for thirty years now. When they bought the land from the Riverses in the oil bust in the 80s,
the name of the development was one of the terms of the contract. And they hated having to sell part of their empire to a bunch of fresh-off-the-boat immigrants who made their money selling plantains in the hood,” he says.
“Plantains in the hood?” I chortle.
He chuckles. “Yeah, we lived in one of the parts of the city that was like a food desert. No good grocery stores. Just corner stores—Popeyes, Church’s Chicken, Shipley’s Donut Shop, if you were lucky. So, my grandfather saved the money he made painting houses and opened Eat!. That was our first business. And who knew that grocery stores that catered to every single palette it could source for would be so popular?”
“Well, apparently your grandfather did,” I say. They have three hundred and fifty stores in Texas and about two dozen in northeast Mexico.
“Yeah, and he and my dad founded Rivers Wilde. My mom’s brainchild was Wilde Restaurants, Crick Crack being the very first,” he says.
“Wow, it’s amazing you’ve done all that in one generation.”
“Yeah. We’re kind of ambitious. And Houston is the most fertile ground for ideas that are all about the hustle. My mother’s Jamaican, so she’s got to have at least three jobs or she feels like she’s being idle,” he says.
“What about your dad?” I ask.
“He’s dead,” he answers in an uncharacteristically flat, hard voice.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“No worries, he has been for a long time,” he says, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anyway, so I met Hayes once—because our families were enemies in a way that felt like a law. And then I ran into him in this little patch of land between our properties on the day of his dad’s funeral. I called him kid. He didn’t like it, so I did it repeatedly and now he’s back and it’s just stuck.”
I laugh, but I don’t feel like laughing. I miss Hayes. Like crazy. And I haven’t seen him since that day in our office when I turned down his settlement offer. When this event was announced a week ago, I realized what he’d been busy doing.
“How are you guys doing?” he asks.
“We’re not. But it’s fine,” I say, and wish that was true. Fine is the last thing I am.
“Does he know that?” Remi asks, and his eyes are trained over my shoulder. I turn and see Hayes walking in.
His scan of the room comes to a screeching halt when his eyes land on me. He smiles and starts toward me. My heart leaps in anticipation. I haven’t seen him in two weeks.
A man steps in his way and starts to talk. The reluctance he shows to look away almost makes up for the fact that he had to stop.
“All right, folks. It’s eight o’clock and the doors are opening. Man your stations!” a woman shouts over a bullhorn and I almost jump out of my skin in surprise.
“My brother Tyson will be here, and he’s going to switch out with me at eleven a.m. And I’ll be back at one o’clock. When you need someone to step in for you, let me know and I’ll find a volunteer.”
“Okay. But I think I’ll be good. I brought snacks and I’m ready,” I say and rub my hands together in anticipation. Today feels like the first time I’m actually doing anything meaningful for my clients.
After we rejected their settlement offer, the case was assigned a court date. In the meantime, I’m doing my interviews with my clients and preparing for our first hearing that’s six weeks away.
Right now, it feels like we’ll never get the mountains of records that we’ve requested. Kingdom, the corporation, is doing everything it can to stall. They asked for six weeks to even produce the documents we’ve asked for. So, we’ve filed for a continuation to give us time to review them. When I say us, I’m talking about my little team of four. One of whom hates my guts. And while all of this is happening, the people in the class are struggling to get their lives back together and are living in limbo.
The Kingdom Foundation, directed by Hayes, organized a clothing and book drive. The donations poured in. Today is shopping day for the families. I got here at 6:30 to help set up, and the line had already started forming. I catch a glimpse of Hayes disappearing in the direction of the picture section. But before I can call after him, the doors open and the people file in. We’re in the boys’ section, “Size twelve months to four years” in the store, and before we have the chance to speak to each other again, our first customers stand at our table. Instantly, I recognize the boy from Hayes’s house the night of the flood. “Hey there,” I say.
“Hi.” He smiles brightly.
“Do you remember me?” I ask.
“Yeah. Of course. And thank you for volunteering today,” he says like he’s reciting something memorized and just remembered he needed to say.
“You’re welcome. What nice manners,” I respond.
“Well, this was all my idea,” he beams.
“Was it?” I ask and look over his shoulder to make sure no one’s waiting to actually be served. “You must be very proud of how it’s all turned out then,” I say jokingly.
He nods. “Yeah, the first time Mr. Hayes came to visit, he asked me what I thought folks needed and I told him clothes for school,” he says and my heart actually jumps.
“M-Mr. Hayes came to see you?” I ask, saying each word slowly, so that I can make sure he doesn’t misunderstand me.
“Yeah, well, more than once—and not just me. We went around and met with lots of people,” he says.
“What types of meetings?” I ask skeptically.
“Him asking questions about their living situation, families, and asking everyone to give him an idea of what they needed to feel comfortable. I took notes and he even paid me for my time,” he says proudly.
“Wow, well, that sounds awesome,” I say and smile. And this time, there’s not a well of pain behind it.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. And thank you for being here and being the reason Mr. Hayes even came to visit us. He told us you suggested it,” he says.
A peal of laughter propelled by relief bursts from my throat.
“Did he? That’s awesome,” I say.
“He’s pretty cool.” The young man nods.
“See you later.” He waves and walks off.
I feel like crying at what I just heard, but I also feel completely giddy. For the last two weeks, my coffee order has been ready and waiting for me when I walk into Sweet and Lo’s. I’ve had flowers on my desk every morning, my lunch delivered every afternoon. My car washed while it was parked in the garage of my office. Hayes has been relentless in his attempts to woo me.
But this ... done not to woo me back, but because he’s a good man trying to do right is the first thing he’s done that makes me feel like maybe he sees me. That he’s not just trying to convince me, but that he’s doing it for himself, too. That thought makes me unbearably happy. I brush my tears away and turn around just in time to greet my very first customers.
KNEEL
CONFIDENCE
“I’ll have the meatloaf sandwich,” I say to my waitress.
“Oh yeah, great choice.” She smiles widely. “It’s delicious.”
“Everything here is delicious,” Tyson says. His dark brown eyes twinkle with mischief, and he says, “including some of the diners.” He grins and then winces. He glares at his older brother. “Remi, yo,” he says in a comically, high-pitched voice while rubbing the side of his head that his brother just slapped.
“Stop talking to her like she’s one of those THOTs in that little fan club of yours,” Remi says without looking up from the menu.
“Yo, can I help it if they love me? I mean, maybe if you stopped and smelled the roses instead of trying to be some sort of superhuman legend, you’d get some of that love, too,” he says.
I look back between the brothers and shake my head. “Can you guys please stop bickering? The car ride over was enough of that to last me a lifetime. I’d like to have some quiet with my air conditioning and beer, please,” I say.
“See, Remi, she likes me.” He winks at me. “Can you sto
p getting in between us?” He drags his chair close to mine. “Excuse me, miss, but you’ve got some dust on your arm,” he says and brushes the remnants of our afternoon off my arm.
“You’re such a flirt, Ty,” I say with mock disapproval.
“Only with the prettiest girls,” he says and winks. His gaze drifts over my shoulder. I don’t think anything of it until I see a gleam of mischief. He slings an arm over my shoulder, and I jump in surprise and then relax.
This is how he talks to everyone. All day, his contribution was keeping the people waiting in the incredibly long lines in a good mood. And he's good at it. Charming, funny, and very nice to look at. It made me feel better. Now that we’ve rejected the settlement offer, things with Kingdom are moving at a snail’s pace. But, this week there was a break in the clouds for our clients whose homes were beyond simple repairs. Remi took me to the land on the outer barrier of Rivers Wilde where Habitat for Humanity is going to be building homes for the residents.
A shiver passes over me and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I feel Hayes before I see him. Before I can turn around, I hear him.
“Remi,” Hayes says in greeting and his voice ricochets through me like a canon’s boom.
My heart leaps into my throat. His proximity is frying my circuits and I can’t even remember what I was talking about or doing two minutes earlier.
“Ty.” His voice is less friendly when he addresses Tyson.
Remi slides over and says, “Join us, Rivers.”
He does and sits down right next to me.
“Confidence,” he says quietly, and I shoot him a sidelong glance. I wish I hadn’t.
The annoyed expression in his eyes is tinged with longing and it hits me in the center of my chest. His light gray T-shirt blends with the color of his eyes, and with the dim lighting of the restaurant, they look almost green today.
His gaze moves to Tyson who has moved closer to me since Hayes sat down. He lifts his eyebrows in his classic what the fuck do you think you’re doing? look.
The Rivals Page 23