Chapter 23 Cole
CHAPTER 23 COLE
ADINKRA SAYING: (Nea Onnim No Sua A, Ohu) Lifelong knowledge.
HELEN ADDO: When dealing with men, don’t repeat your mistakes.
I knew the rules.
We would not take any of this into the office.
None of it. Except as we were squished into the back of the elevator with the usual morning crowd heading to work on Monday morning, I couldn’t help but latch my pinky with hers.
I was acting like a lovesick puppy. I knew it. But, fuck, I was having a good time. I couldn’t help it.
I had never been like this with anyone about anything.
When was the last time you cared about someone?
I couldn’t remember.
I’d never been friends with a woman first before. I already knew my favorite smile of hers. What made her laugh. What made her sad. What irritated her.
And the more surprising part was I felt like she could see clear into my soul. And it didn’t terrify me.
What happens when everyone finds out?
I frowned at the thought and tried to banish it. We’d be fine. No one would find out. Are you sure?
Even if they did, she wasn’t a direct report. We would be fine.
You will be fine. But what about her? What will people say? How will it affect her?
A sense of dread prickled my gut. She’d kept me at arm’s length for a long time. Was this the reason?
After more people stepped out of the elevator, she unhooked her pinky from mine and gripped tightly onto the rail. I could see how she slipped her work mask back on.
Gone was the soft, sweet Ofos. Now she was in badass mode.
When we hit the fourteenth floor, one other person got out. Two others stayed as they were going up higher. I nodded to one of the guys I knew from finance. I also noted the way his eyes chased over Ofosua’s ass as she walked by both of us.
I scowled at him, and he shrugged as if asking what my problem was.
I needed to cool it. Ofosua was concerned about the fallout from anyone finding out about us. So tamping down the possessiveness was a good idea.
I followed Ofosua down the hall. “Lunch later?”
She turned over her shoulder, the mustard-yellow pants she’d worn today hugging her hips the way I liked. She’d paired them with a graphic tee that had some kind of unicorn on it. A long Neil Lane diamond chain hung between her breasts, and I wanted to see her wearing nothing but that chain.
“Maybe. There is a lot to do, and some idiot chained me with a legacy author, Evan Miles.”
I grinned, leaning in close to catch a hint of her YSL perfume. “Who did that to you? You should punish them immediately. I have some ideas on just how to do that.”
She smiled. “I am sure you do, but it’ll have to wait.”
This was going to be harder than I thought. I wanted to see her. I wanted to be with her. I basically wanted to spend all of my lunch hours holed up in some dark corner of a restaurant where I could stick my hand up her skirt if she was wearing one.
She grinned and winked at me as I followed her along the same path, possibly too close. Her perfume drew me in like a beacon, and I almost took another sniff when Jess Langley, one of the associate editors for crime fiction, barreled out of her office.
She stopped short when she saw Ofos. “Hey, girl!”
Ofosua’s step faltered. “Hi, Jess.”
Jess reached up for her hair and smoothed a finger over one springing curl. “Oh my God, I love what you’re doing with this. What is that, a braid-out situation?”
And then I watched in horror as Jess put her fingers through Ofosua’s curls, tugging softly. Ofosua stepped out of the way to escape most of the brunt of it, her jaw tight as she muttered, “Gotta run, Jess.”
What the fuck had I just watched? Had she really reached out and touched Ofosua like that? When Ofosua went to her office, I followed. Her brows lifted in surprise. “What’s up? What’s wrong?”
“What the hell happened with Jess?”
She shrugged. “She’s trying to be extra sister-girl and down since I got the imprint. Just the usual bullshit. Why?”
I blinked at her incredulously. “She stuck her hands in your hair .”
She sighed. “Notice how I tried to duck and weave out of the way? Jess has a problem. I’ve asked her not to touch me, but she still can’t seem to help herself and her commentary all the time. ‘Oh my God, I love your curls. I can’t make my hair do this. God, I love the Afro texture,’?” Ofosua mimicked.
“That’s bullshit. She put her hands on you.”
She sighed and slowly blinked at me as if preparing for a lecture. “Yes, Cole, it’s called a microaggression. I’m pretty used to them happening all day, every day. She’s done this before.”
Why was she so calm? “Are you fucking serious? Why would you put up with that?”
She blinked at me slowly. “Put up with that? Tell me something. You remember how Nazrin called me aggressive for simply voicing my opinion? Every time I bring up that we need diversity in the workplace, everyone nods along, but in the end, they are resistant. Half the people here think I got my promotion by banging your uncle. How do you think it will be perceived if I properly tell off Jess? Really let her know?”
“Surely, you can go to human resources. Or—”
“You’re not listening , Cole. Who says I haven’t already? But there is no way to anonymously lodge a complaint. I’m the only Black woman here. Then I become the angry one again, putting an even tighter strain on me. And for fuck’s sake, some days I’m just exhausted from having to deal, so for survival’s sake, I duck and avoid so that I can get on with my day. Some days I fight, but all I can do is put it in my little notebook, for if I ever need it, and move on. We talk about inclusion and respect here, but it’s a joke. I stay because this is my dream job. And if I can effect change one book at a time, I’ll do that. I can put up with the Jesses of the world for that .”
The flame of shame hit my body at once. Had I really been that fucking blind? “But she touched you. In the workplace . Like it was normal.” I understood what she was saying, but I was having a hard time letting it go.
Ofos eased herself into her chair. “Before you and I started talking, how often did you see microaggressions?”
I swallowed hard. “I guess I wasn’t looking.”
“You’re programmed not to. And everything in the world is set up for you. I will always have to put up with shit you will never see. And while I appreciate the indignance on my behalf, I can’t fight every battle. I need to be strategic.”
“That’s fucked.”
She huffed out an exasperated breath. “I know. There’s nothing I can do about it. When it gets wild, I go to HR. Not that anything gets done other than people telling me I’m too emotional.”
My skin flushed hot. “I’m sure I’ve said something stupid before.”
She chewed her bottom lip then. “Oh, you have.”
My stomach knotted. “Fuck me. I’m so sorry.”
She put up a hand. “Don’t bother. You’re seeing things now. Be better. Fix them. Don’t wait for me to tell you. Now that you see, do something about it.”
I wouldn’t be able to fix everything today, but this I could fucking fix. “You’re right.”
“I know. I love my job and, for the most part, the people I work with. Not everyone is a Jess, and not everyone is a Chad. Most people fall somewhere on the spectrum of not knowing better to forgetting to do better . And when they fuck up, I tell them. Hopefully, they listen.”
Hearing someone walking toward her office, I straightened up immediately and took a step backward. “All right, I’ll send you those marketing suggestions I have for Aurora St. James, and I will touch base with you later.”
It wasn’t just anyone, though. It was my uncle.
“I need both of you in my office. Right now.”
OFOSUA
When we walked in, Steven made quick introductions. “Cosmos, you obviously know my nephew. This is Ofosua Addo. She’s the editor on our new African American women’s fiction line. She’s the one you have all the questions for.”
I froze. I was supposed to give a presentation now? Fuck my life.
Cosmos was tall and well-built, and his three-piece Tom Ford cream-colored suit complemented his light brown skin perfectly. He took my hand, and while his handshake was firm, it was also gentle, though he held on for a moment too long. “Ms. Addo. You are the one I’ve heard so much about.”
“All good things, I hope, sir,” I said as Cole and I took seats across from each other.
“Please call me Brian.” He turned to Cole and gave him a bracing handshake. “Cole, good to see you again. I know you and I have already caught up. But I did want to speak to Ofosua about some of the packaging, since she’s heading up this imprint that I think is vital for the growth of Drake Publishing.”
Wait, they’d caught up? About Mahogany Prose? When? How? Why hadn’t Cole told me?
I cleared my throat, suddenly apprehensive. “Well, hopefully I can answer any questions you have.”
“I was looking at the initial lineup, and I have to say it’s very exciting. I like your choice of authors and the kind of books you’re trying to publish.”
Okay, so nothing to worry about. “Wow, thank you. We’re excited about the whole imprint, but there are some authors who are just special. And we can’t wait to dig in with them.”
“Yes. I was reading about Aurora St. James. She’s brilliant. Enthusiastic. You can feel her zest for life in her work. I’ve been following her newsletter.”
“Oh, I know. She’s one of my favorites.” I couldn’t help it. The fact that he’d actually read the books was exciting. Knowing that someone outside of our little bubble was just as enthusiastic about our picks thrilled me. I leaned forward. “She’s fresh and innovative, and her words are beautiful.”
Cole sat forward too. “Yes, like I was telling you the last time we met, she’s a marketer’s dream. She’ll perform well. She’s worth putting budget behind.”
Cosmos rubbed at his chin. “It seems, Ms. Addo, that you’ve managed to make everyone around you just as enthusiastic as you are.”
“Oh, it’s a team effort.” I gave Cole and then his uncle a big smile.
Cosmos sat forward. “Right. Before we get ahead of ourselves, Miss Addo, when I saw your initial list, there was one book on the list that doesn’t seem like it fits with the others, that I can’t quite understand. And Steven suggested I talk to you about it since you’re the acquiring editor.”
Shit. My stomach sank. He’d thrown me under the bus? He knew full well we’d moved that book to women’s fiction. God save me.
Cole’s eyes went wide. He sat forward and started to speak, but I didn’t need him to save me. Clearing my throat, I said, “While Steven made a strong push for that book, after much discussing as a team, and diving further into the book, we decided that Aliza Mann’s Hood Rat Beginnings , with some changes, would make a great addition to our women’s fiction list. Meanwhile we can focus on Mahogany Prose and the great authors we’ve got lined up.”
My skin heated as I flickered my gaze toward Steven, who categorically refused to look back. Jackass. Funny how the man who had shoved Aliza Mann down my throat was now leaving me with my ass hanging out. At least Cosmos would understand that she had been Steven’s pick and that I hadn’t lost my mind.
It figured. I’d learned long ago that the only person I could truly count on in the office was myself. I didn’t bother looking at Cole. He knew what had happened in that acquisitions meeting. But I had no expectation for him to cover me, regardless of the state of our relationship.
But he sat forward. “The books Ofosua has cultivated are all amazing. She’s an amazing editor. We’re very excited about them.”
I ground my molars together. Not a word about how I’d been put in a tight spot?
You know he can’t say she was shoved down your throat. You know that.
But knowing it and feeling the sting were two different things. He had a company reputation to protect.
What about a girlfriend to protect?
I knew I was being irrational. This was business. I knew the reason why, but I still felt like I was left twisting in the wind. I forced a smile on my face. “You have nothing to worry about, Brian. We have a cohesive vision for this imprint.” Liar.
Cosmos sat back, but he didn’t smile. “It’s your imprint, and you’re the one to watch. I’m interested to see what you do.”
I had a damn target on my back, and Cole had left me to float or sink on my own in shark-infested waters.