Page 54 of Mutual Discord

After we were done with our meals, Denise helped me put the leftovers away and place the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. With fresh drinks, we settled in the living room, where we watched an episode of a reality dating show Denise was a fan of.

“You know,” she started as the end credits rolled across the screen, “as jaded as I am by the dating scene, I don’t think I’m completely over it. I’d still like to find someone to grab coffee with on Saturday mornings or cuddle with on the sofa and watch trashy reality TV.”

“Hey, bitch, I offered to cuddle with you and you turned me down,” I said, tossing a pillow at her.

Denise’s peal of laughter made me laugh in turn. “It’s hard to get comfortable cuddling with you because you have bony elbows.”

“Everyone has bony elbows.”

“You know what I mean.” My friend dropped her head to the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “I just think I’m still willing to try. Jaded but not hopeless, you know?”

I didn’t know. Because if I were honest with myself, I had been battling hopelessness since Alex walked into that restaurant with Caitlin.

Something must have shown on my face because Denise clicked her tongue, and I darted my gaze to her, finding her watching me. “What’s that look for?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” I took a sip of wine for want of something to do.

“Yeah, you do. It’s your emotionally constipated face.”

My head whipped toward her so fast I felt dizzy. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Denise began, setting her drink on the coffee table and leaning toward me, “that I’ve noticed you’ve become a lot more closed off with your emotions these last few months.”

I shifted in my seat even while I did my best to train my expression. “I guess I’ve just been trying to process being laid off. It still hurts, you know.”

Which was not a lie. Every time I thought about Desert Media 360 I felt a deep ache in my chest.

“That’s because you’re a loyal person. You worked hard there for years and made a name for yourself.” Denise threw her arms wide. “And then one mouth breather with no imagination and one lonely brain cell pinging around in that dome of his came along and took your career from you.”

A familiar rush of anger heated my skin. Still, I tried to shake it off. “But it’s been almost six months. Shouldn’t I be over it by now?”

“Only you know the answer to that, querida. I just know that I’m still pissed about it, and for Josh’s sake, I hope I never run into him because I don’t possess nearly as much grace as you do,” Denise declared, taking a drink.

A small smile crossed my lips. My friend was so good to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. A thought occurred to me suddenly, and I voiced it to her. “Alex mentioned that Sharon Collins at Cactus Hills Marketing cut their contract with Desert Media 360 because they let me go.”

Denise cocked her head. “Isn’t she the VP of marketing or something?”

“Yeah.” I studied the pale gold liquid in my glass without really seeing it. “They’re based in the valley, but they have accounts all over, and they work with the Scorpions, which is how Alex met her.”

“Have you reached out to her?” Denise asked, slowly setting aside her drink.

I shook my head.

“Girl, why not? A bigwig at a big firm actually left your old company because you no longer work there. That speaks volumes about how she feels about your work.” Denise pointed a finger at me. “Sof, this could be your chance.”

It could be. I knew that…yet I hadn’t been able to get myself to make the connection. There was a draft email sitting on my computer waiting for me to send it, but I hadn’t taken the step.

“It’s just…” I clenched my eyes closed for a moment. “Maybe the reason I was let go was not so much because of Josh but because of me. Maybe my work wasn’t up to par. Maybe I could have been more pleasant or conciliatory in the office, but I was too busy being assertive and standing up for myself. You know women of color are always punished for acting in any other way but gracious and subservient.”

“Isn’t that the goddamn truth.” Denise flicked her braids over her shoulder. “If you dare to speak in anything but a gentle tone or you ask clarifying questions you’re labeled as difficult. I’ve been called difficult so many times in my career. But that doesn’t mean I am. Or that that label somehow means I don’t do good work.”

“Well, I know you don’t—”

“And you don’t, either.” Denise clapped her hands together, the sound a startling crack in the room. “You forget that I worked with you. I know your work ethic. I know how you hustle. And I know that you’re creative and passionate about what you do. That’s why Sharon Collins didn’t want to work with those fools anymore, because the real talent was gone.”

Unsure of what to say, I just covered my face with my hands.

“Sof, listen to me. You lost your job and it sucked, but why are you letting those idiots take your confidence, too?”