After the Verdict - Chapter 7
What Happens in Our Absence
If you need to catch up, Chapter 6 is here:
If you need to start from the beginning, Chapter 1 is here:
Chapter 7: What Happens in Our Absence
“Do you ever think back on how it’s a feat that we even became lawyers?” Vanessa asks Sheila Watkins.
“Shit,” Sheila looks up from pecking at her phone and looks directly at Vanessa from across the white clothed table at the Country Club, blinking quickly. “Did you order wine and drink a bottle before I got here? Where is this coming from, Vanessa?”
“Truly.” Vanessa presses on, “Do you ever look back at the fucking miracle it is that you even became a lawyer, much less the Watkins of Luis and Watkins?”
“Are you hitting on me?” Sheila laughs as she waves down a server.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you told me that you had to quit law school in your second year because one of your professors requested that you sleep with him for a passing grade. You turned him down. He failed you. You quit law school, Sheila.”
“I’ll take a water and a coffee,” Sheila says to the young server who has just arrived.
“I’ll have the same,” Vanessa adds, not breaking eye contact with Sheila.
The server walks off.
Sheila turns somber, “It’s a shame it’s too early for wine,” she half-jokes, but continues. “Yeah, I turned him down only because I saw what saying ‘yes’ did to other women he preyed on. He still failed them. They still dropped out even if he didn’t. Not only did he kill dreams, careers, and a chance to be independent, but some of these women never recovered. Drugs. Suicide…” Sheila trails off.
Their drinks arrive. Sheila begins to doctor her coffee. Vanessa sips her water.
“So I unenrolled,” Sheila says, her eyes watering at the memory, “and boy, was my mother pissed. She didn’t understand. I needed to move back home, find work, and pay her rent because she needed it too. I was another mouth to feed.” She pauses, remembering, “God, I was a shell of myself, Vanessa. So depressed, so defeated. After a year, I applied to St. Michael’s, an arguably better law school that was local. I was accepted but had to start all over again. At the time, I was so grateful to even be admitted, I did so happily.” Sheila sounds like she barely believes her own story of accomplishment, and Vanessa can tell it has been a minute since Sheila has relived this.
“And Sheila, I know you had it rough in firm life, too.” Vanessa prods.
“Oh gosh!” Sheila exclaims, where do I begin? “How about the older female attorney calling my boss at the time to complain about me. Why do we women insist on competing with each other like that?”
“I mean, I agree, but I’m not talking about that, Sheila,” Vanessa says more seriously.
Sheila looks up at Vanessa, “Why are you asking all this, Vanessa? You know these stories.”
“Yeah, but I want you to recall the one.”
“Oh, that one.” Sheila pauses but acquiesces to her friend, “Okay, because I assume you’re leading me to a point, counselor.” She narrows her eyes, but goes on, “I was in a meeting with the CEO of one of the companies we represent. I was alone with him in his office. This was not uncommon. As the meeting was ending, and as I was leaving, he moved to what I then assumed was to open the office door ahead of me. Instead, he pushed me against the door, my face against the heavy wood. He pushed his body against me and groped me over my clothes. I felt what I presumed to be his erect penis against me. I pushed him away by pushing from the door, and I was able to leave. At the time, I was so young that I never told anyone. I needed the job. I was afraid I’d be blackballed. I wondered what I did to invite it. Blamed myself for a long time.” Sheila sips her coffee, “I even continued to represent him, but made sure I was never alone with him. I was scared and pissed off at the same time,” Sheila continues, “not only did I win that case for him, but he had the audacity to complain to my boss that I wasn’t friendly and was too much ‘all business.’ I got admonished for not being friendly to the client who assaulted me.” She takes another sip of her coffee. “I eventually explained it, but it was a different time back then.”
“It was a different time back then, indeed.” Vanessa agrees, “That was not okay, and this is not okay, Sheila. Just because we’ve been through worse– It’s never been here. Not here.” Vanessa is pacing in her mind again. “Sheldon is oblivious that he’s done anything wrong. What the fuck are we doing, Sheila?”
“I’m not saying this is okay, Vanessa,” Sheila responds, her voice exhausted, defeated, “I have to take it to the full board. I’ll do that. He will know it’s not okay. But I also have to speak their language. These guys speak in numbers and money. There’s no question we’re part of the system, but the only way we change the system is by speaking its language.”
Vanessa continues, “You know, I actually want to be a Shareholder with you. I’ve always thought we could change things. But right now, after Sheldon, I have concerns that the fundamental values that I at least try to cling to are misaligned here.”
Sheila nods, “I know. But what happens in our absence?”
Both women sit in silence for a moment, letting the question settle.
Sheila continues, “I can’t guarantee that anything else will get done without something external. He’s got his supporters. You know what I know: there is no documentation of him ever doing this before. No history, pattern. Even now, what do we have? What can we prove, even with Anna?”
“This is not okay, Sheila.” Vanessa has tears in her eyes, “We were supposed to do better for them,” her lips quivering.
“It’s not fucking okay,” Sheila agrees, her eyes also glistening.
They sit in silence again. Thinking. Calculating.
“How badly will Anna get fucked for bringing this?” Vanessa asks.
“You know that’s illegal.”
“Ha! Ha!” Vanessa drags the two syllables out, but turns serious again.
“This was triggering for me, Sheila. I haven’t been able to sleep well since Anna told me. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Sheila looks at her.
“I’m just letting you know, in case it comes up for you too,” Vanessa says, “I took the daytime flight for negotiations on the Lubbock merger this week, Sheila… Normally, I take the latest flight so I can pick up the girls from school and be home. But I don’t know…” Vanessa trails off. “Because fuck, Sheila, if this happens in our own house… I don’t know. It sounds irrational and stupid. I’ve been crying a lot, too. It’s really pissing me off, actually.” Vanessa jokes, wiping tears from her eyes. Her tone switches to resolve, “And it makes me even more pissed at Sheldon.”
“I’m sorry, Vanessa. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m just telling you, as a friend, not a lawyer, or employee, or law partner. In case this brings feelings up for you, too. But I’m also telling you that this shit festers. We fucking advise on this shit.”
“We’ll get a corporate coach to come in,” Sheila responds, almost hopeful, “make it part of a revamp.”
Vanessa half-scoffs, lets a tear roll down her cheek.
“But, you’re right,” Sheila says, “I know what the current board make-up will do: ‘We’re thinking of families and livelihoods, not just Sheldon’s,’ they will say. ‘Even an amicable departure would be chaos. Clients would follow him; we’d have to let go of attorneys and staff. Over what, unsustained allegations?’ They will ask me.” Sheila pauses a moment, processing in real time, “It makes me wonder when I switched to the dark side, myself.”
“You mean, no one will ever know...” Vanessa says, shaking her head, “How am I supposed to bring young attorneys in here, Sheila?”
Sheila grabs Vanessa’s hand across the table and looks at her, “You hold on a little longer so we can make some changes. But it just takes time for the old guard on the board to move on, to see the good this can bring to their own legacy. I need your help with the governance of this place. I can’t do this alone, Vanessa.” Sheila knows she’s putting more pressure on Vanessa than is fair.
Vanessa’s phone dings, and Vanessa picks it up.
“Fuck. I’ve been so distracted, I gotta run to this 1 o’clock, Sheila.” Vanessa lets go of Sheila’s hand and gets up quickly, grabbing her bag. “Let me know what I can do. You’ll be the one in the boardroom, though, not me.” Vanessa turns and walks out.
Sheila waves down the server and gives the sign for the check. She grabs a tissue from her purse, dabs her eyes, and re-applies her lipstick.
The server brings the check, and Sheila signs.
She sits for a moment and thinks about the conversation.
I was a shell of myself, she thinks, with heaviness in her eyes.
She then pulls out her iPad, starts typing, and sends an email to the board.
Stay tuned for Chapter 8…
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This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or circumstances is purely coincidental. This post isn’t legal advice. Yes, I’m a lawyer. No, I’m not your lawyer (unless we’ve signed papers and I’m charging you my hourly rate). If you’re dealing with workplace discrimination or retaliation, talk to a qualified employment attorney in your jurisdiction. Also, stay subscribed because this stuff matters. But seriously—don’t treat this as legal advice. Love you.
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OKAY??? Chapter 7 and I’m just sitting here like… what did I just read 😳 Becky you are NOT playing fair. The way you dropped those stories back to back and then hit us with “what happens in our absence?”??? I had to stop and just stare at the wall for a second. This isn’t just good writing, it’s the kind that makes you uncomfortable because it feels way too real. Great job friend 👏