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16. Don’t kiss and tell, or leave video footage of the encounter—Eve and Fantasia discovered this the hard way.
17. Don’t sit down at a dinner table if you can’t afford the 20 percent tip.
18. Don’t leave traces of baby powder, deodorant, hair gel, or body oil on your body at any time—rub it in, or get it off.
19. Don’t have more than two colors on your fingernails at one time, or try too hard to match the polish to your outfit.
20. Don’t have fingernails that are longer than your fingers and/or a bar of soap.
21. Don’t have sex with anyone for any reason other than having sex—intimate relations don’t lead to marital relationships.
22. Always know the way home and have a way to get there.
23. Perform community service.
24. Don’t discuss personal matters at work. No one needs to know about your breakup.
25. Don’t wear your cell phone earpiece unless you are engaging in a conversation and not sitting near someone who can hear it.
“It’s like this woman wants me dead, or worse, fired,” Tamia complained, walking behind Charleston as they entered the Blue Note, one of the city’s oldest and most respected jazz clubs. Nathaniel, Charleston’s college roommate and fraternity brother, who’d never completed a day’s work on anyone’s payroll since they’d graduated, was celebrating the release of his first jazz album and invited the pair out for a toast with his latest dinner date, Ava.
“You can’t take Phaedra that personally. She wants everyone dead…and fired. Being on top is what drives her.” Charleston was giving his comfy grin and looking at Tamia like she was an insect. He’d dated a lot of beautiful women, but Tamia, with her long, thick hair and classic beauty, was among the top ten. Plus, he always reasoned, she had a good upbringing and brains. He always loved pretty girls, but wanted the one on his arm to be the triple threat that made them the perfect pair. Tamia, he thought, even with her naive ways, fit the bill. “Look, you want me to be honest?”
“Yes.”
“The case is a dog. And your partner is even worse. You can’t win even if you win.”
“What do you mean?” Tamia stopped him.
“It’s nigger work. The two black women at the firm, one who’s up for partner soon and another who won’t make it three years, get the nigger case to keep them nigger busy. Basically, if you lose, they’ll say they can’t give you the bigger cases because you messed this one up, and, Lord, if you win…” He pause
d.
“What?” Tamia’s chest tightened.
“Then you’ll get all the nigger cases from now until infinity. And everyone will say it’s a good thing, great, you’re doing service for your people, but the only place that can lead to is an office somewhere in Brooklyn. Six figures tops. You’ll go from making headlines to hoping some community rag will give you ad space.”
Tamia’s mouth was hanging open. Everything she’d worked for, everything she’d sacrificed was ablaze in a tinker house in her mind.
“I knew this was a trap. I have to get out of it!”
“No way out, babe. You override Phaedra and they’ll say you’re not a team player.”
“So what would you do?”
“I’d take the loss and work my way back up. Pray for the best.” Charleston shrugged. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.
“You’re saying lose the case? On purpose?”
“No, babe. I’m saying survive.”
“Oh no,” Tamia said, still processing Charleston’s words as he started to walk again. “I just wish I knew why she’s all over me like this.”
“Buck up, grasshopper,” Charleston said, navigating toward Nathaniel, who was standing up and waving toward them. “Don’t let crazy Phae get you down.”
“Did you just call her Phae?”
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