“Ell, how are you still working in this place?”
“What do you mean?”
“You refuse to spend your money where you’re not valued. You’ve told me before that there are hardly any other Black people or people of color who work at that company. There are Black protesters in front of the building every day. Why do you work at a place that doesn’t value what you value? A company that doesn’t value you!”
“Because I need a job. I have bills to pay. I don’t have a wealthy husband and an invitation-only Black American Express Card.”
“I know you need a job. But you don’t need this one.”
I leaned forward on the kitchen table and rubbed my temples. Grace was right. Years ago, I used to worry about where my next meal would come from. Even after graduating from law school, I still harbored quiet, back-of-the-brain fears that I was just a stone’s throw away from the poverty of Chillicothe. Now I was collecting a huge paycheck from a company where people despised me and were responsible for my brother’s death. How did I get here? How many pieces of myself had I tossed away on my climb for corporate career success?
“You are working with some extremely dangerous people, Ellice. A dangerous group of lunatics. You can’t continue to work for these people. You have to get out of that place.”
“I know. I plan to resign tomorrow.”
“Thank you! Now in the meantime, you have to tell the police what’s going on and give them this stuff.”
“They don’t believe me. Jonathan convinced them I’m lying. And it didn’t help my case after the police realized I lied about my brother and about being in Michael’s office the day he died.”
“They’ll believe you after you give them this stuff.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Chapter 34
The next morning, I strutted inside the lobby of Houghton Transportation Company. I would be done with this hellhole and the ignorant bigots that inhabited it in less than an hour. My hair was a large, luscious coily mane encircling my head and I wore my best navy-blue power suit. It was incredible what a fresh twistout and a quality power suit can do for your confidence.
From the moment I stepped inside the building, it was apparent the Houghton clan was turning on one of their own. Everyone watched the news just like Anita did and everyone had decided I was the she-beast killer of Houghton Transportation. When I stepped into the lobby, Jimmy, the guard, stood at the security desk. His face went loose with shock, as if I had just stepped up to the urinal beside him in the men’s room. I rode up the elevator with two lawyers from the Legal Department. Both mumbled, “Good morning,” but none of the usual ingratiating ass-kissing comments about how hard they were working lately. The homely-looking guy even raised his eyebrows at the female lawyer as they stepped off the elevator on Eighteen.
I arrived at my office and spoke to Anita. She gave me a sympathetic smile before I closed my office door. It had been less than ten days since I’d discovered, and left, Michael’s lifeless body in this office. I stood at the window, watching a light dusting of snow fall across the park below. Everything about my life now seemed unreal. It was like walking around in someone else’s life, sitting in someone else’s office, and facing someone else’s future. I’d already left a message with a local headhunter, well known for placing executive talent. I could easily find another position with a company that respected me and valued what I value—human life and decency.
My landline rang, startling me. My body was in the office, but my mind was light-years away. At last, I was beginning to see daylight at the end of this harrowing tunnel. “Hey, it’s Sarah. Nate’s ready to see you.”
“Tell him I’ll be right there.”
I fully expected Willow to be in Nate’s office with him. Fine. She could babysit Nate during my resignation the same way she did during my promotion. I calmly reached into the top desk drawer and pulled out a blue folder. Inside, a single sheet of paper. My resignation letter. For whatever reason, Michael decided to stick his resignation letter in a safe-deposit box instead of Nate’s hands. But I wouldn’t follow in Michael’s footsteps or suffer the same fate.
The walk down the hall to Nate’s office was like a death march to the execution chamber, a series of humiliating steps toward the demise of my corporate legal career. Not even a full two weeks as general counsel and here I was resigning in the midst of a police investigation.
At least I was leaving on my own terms.