Page 50 of The Aries Alliance
I offered up my signature fake work smile and jotted down more notes to temper my anger at being pulled into this innercircle. The silver lining was that I knew what their strategy was now.
After the meeting and for the rest of the day, I tried to keep going, but the blatant attack against Scarlett didn’t sit well with me. I couldn’t continue with business as usual, as her face and body kept popping up in my mind. She wasn’t just somebody off the street. She was my equity accomplice, someone who cared hard for others and who deserved to be celebrated openly for her social justice gifts. She finally put a face to the mountain of complaints piled high on my desk.
I needed to connect with Scarlett as soon as possible. We would have to move quicker than I thought to expose EFU.
Reality I
The meetingwith President Fields must have been intense, since War didn’t contact me until Friday after lunch. I lit up when his message came through since we didn’t get to act up in his office as planned. To be fair, I’d been so busy with work that I hadn’t followed up with him either.
War:
Have something to share. They’re on to you. Be careful.
What did that even mean?
Me:
Who are THEY? What do THEY know?
War:
On my way out the door. Will chat after work.
I tried to call War on the burner, but my message immediately went to voicemail. I would have texted him again, but I was already five minutes late for a meeting upstairs with my supervisor, a colleague, and the HR manager in my unit. Although I asked my supervisor to share the purpose of the meeting in the email and calendar invitation he sent, he didn’t respond. It was a red flag.
“Uh . . .” I scrambled around my office like a chicken with its head cut off.
I threw my burner, personal phone, and electronic notebook in my black leather Coach purse before running out of my office.
A couple of minutes later, I rushed toward the small third-floor conference room in my building. About six feet before I got to the door, I stopped in my tracks as the words unhinged and ill-equipped met my ears. A woman’s cutting voice said, “If she didn’t have tenure, she would be out of here faster than a bullet from a gun.”
“Now, Judy . . .” My supervisor’s patronizing voice interrupted her.
I placed my hand over my chest to steady my breathing and resumed my steps, entering the room slowly.
“Sorry I’m late.” I paused in the doorway and stood tall.
Everyone stared at me, eerily quiet.
“Is everybody okay?” I met each person’s eyes and frowned.
“Oh, you’re here. Scarlett, have a seat.” My supervisor, Henry, who sat at the head of the table, cleared his throat and pointed to the empty chair next to him.
With little fanfare, I sat down, placing my purse on the table next to me.
“You’re racist, Dr. Kane.” Judy, one of the fiscal managers in my unit, puffed her cheeks out as Henry looked between us like a deer caught in headlights.
I jerked my head back, shocked as hell at the accusation.
“Excuse me?” My voice was much louder than I intended it to be.
I sucked in my breath and held it as I sat across the table from Judy and Lance from HR. The three of them stared at me as if I’d shot an innocent bystander in plain sight. I stared right back.
“Hold on, Judy. We need to give Dr. Kane more background.” Lance’s eyes softened as he leaned forward and rested his hands on the table.
At least Lance, whose last name I couldn’t remember, allowed me to get a word in as I was accosted by that heifer.
“You hate white people,” Judy spewed, throwing her limp, heat-damaged, orange hair over her shoulders as small drops of spit fell on the table.
