Inessa towers over Rana and looks down at her over her right shoulder with blatant derision.
“You shrimp, I am not leaving until I get what I want. Pull up a chair if you want. We don’t have to have any secrets amongst the three of us.”
“You have more audacity than Christopher Columbus.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Inessa snaps. “He was a hero and he built this country, unlike your people. What has Pakistan ever contributed to the world?”
Rana isn’t from Pakistan, but we both know there’s no point in correcting a racist. If she wanted to learn, she would. This type of person just gets a thrill in getting under your skin. It’s the type of racism you get from people who weren’t hugged as children – pure attention seeking.
“Do you like your veneers, Inessa?” Rana says with a sweet smile that reminds me of Southern women right before they say “bless your heart”. Rana just might swing a punch at this girl’shead, which would only make my position here worse. I was foolish to assume Inessa was content to collect her severance package and quietly heal her wounds.
Kennard was her cash cow and probably got her used to a lifestyle that she can’t afford right now.I can’t believe I let this happen to me.
I have to stop this from spiraling further out of control.
Rana asks her outright. “Inessa? What do you want?”
“Money.” It’s just like I expected.
She drops her documents on my desk. The brown folder lands with a heavy smack that makes me jump. I stare down at it with enough fury to burn a hole through my own desk. This is all Kennard’s problem. My stupid dead ex-husband is coming back to haunt me just when I get news that Peter got me pregnant.
I say nothing, and neither does Rana.
Inessa “I have over 500 Gigabytes of images and videos of all the kinky weird ass shit your husband Kennardand his friendsused to do to me. How do you think it would look if these prominent black men and church leadersincluding your husbandwere caught degrading a beautiful, American woman like me?”
“Your last name is Dabrowski,” Rana says. “Please, drop the racism.”
“You shouldn’t lecture me,” Inessa responds haughtily. “I have all the power here and I also have something that Aricia could never give her husband.”
“What, chlamydia?” Rana says, clearly hoping to push Inessa into a physical altercation. It’s getting just as hard for me not to react to Inessa’s taunting, so I promise to only intervene if Rana throws a punch.
“No. I have ababy,” Inessa says, dramatically touching her stomach without a baby bump. “She’s an infertile uselesscowand I am going to have a child who will inherit half of this whole law firm.”
“What did you just call her?” Rana asks. “I want to confirm before I slap the filler out of your fucking lips.”
“Rana…” I respond, secretly proud of her for voicing what I can’t do, considering I’m an upstanding professional in this community and a black woman who would be subject to far more scrutiny than anyone else in my position. Unfortunately, there’s a part of me that will have to hear her out, even if it’s just so I can formulate a strategy.
“What do you want, Inessa?”
“I have video proof of your husband engaging in various kinds of debauchery. Piss drinking, for one thing.”
I feel a slow crawl of disgust down my back. It happens whenever some new betrayal gets unearthed. I don’t think about him on most days anymore, especially whenever Peter is anywhere near me, or when I have so much as a single work email to respond to, but whenever I have to think about Kennard, my stomach turns with whatever new horror I have to absorb into my reality.
“Get to the part where you tell me what you want. I have a job, Inessa.”
And a strong desire to push this woman down an elevator shaft.
“I need $50,000 to give my surgeon a down payment for my upper bleft.”
“What the fuck is that you dumb bitch?” Rana asks.
Inessa glares at her. “Don’t talk to me like that when you need a surgeon to fix that weird ethnic nose.”
“Aricia?” Rana asks. “May I?”
“Inessa, I can’t give in to blackmail. It’s a felony.”
“Then I’ll go to The Buffalo Standard with pictures of your ex-husband shoving a cucumber up his asshole.”
