Tia's Place

By Kim Hudley

Tia Jacobs is a sophisticated young black lawyer who works at one of the country's largest and most prestigious law firms. She has spent the last five years diligently climbing the ladder towards the rank of partner. Then without any warning at all, she is abruptly fired from her position at the firm and escorted out of the building by security guards.

 

TIA'S PLACE chronicles Tia's journey through the trauma of losing her corporate job into the life she creates once she begins to regain her balance and starts focusing on building a new future. Her relationships with family, close friends, and other pivotal connections influence her choices as she seeks her destiny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: UP Publishing
• Release date: Aug 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9780998115535

Kim Hudley

Kim Hudley is a prolific writer.  She resides in the United States of America.  

Book preview

PART ONE

ONE

It was a few minutes before seven on a Friday morning in January when Tia Jacobs entered her office at Smith, Barnes & Hightower. Her desk was covered with file folders and legal pads, reference books were piled in the visitors’ chairs. Every other surface was littered with legal documents.

Tia crossed the room and propped her briefcase on the ledge of her single window overlooking Connecticut Avenue in downtown Washington, DC.  She sat down and slipped her purse in a bottom desk drawer.  She had spent the last five weeks gearing up for trial in an age discrimination case that settled on Wednesday afternoon right after they had selected a jury.  And then yesterday, she’d been assigned to a new case: a wrongful discharge lawsuit with a court hearing scheduled for Monday.

She closed her eyes and massaged her temples.  The last thing she wanted to do was spend another weekend cooped up in her office reviewing boxes of legal files.  But what choice did she have?  It was either that, or show up in court unprepared on Monday morning.

She sighed and dreamed of walking away from it all, but that was wishful thinking. She had huge law school loans, a condo mortgage, a host of other expenses.  The only thing she could do was keep inching her way up the ladder toward a partnership. 

She turned on her computer and waited for it to come to life, double-clicked on the icon that would take her to her e-mails.  Surprisingly, there was only one new message:

To:  All Associate Attorneys

From:  The Training Department

Please be reminded that the monthly associate attorney luncheon is scheduled for twelve forty-five this afternoon and will be held in Conference Room A.  As always, we look forward to your prompt attendance.

Shit!  Tia had forgotten about the luncheon!  Although the food was sure to be great, she couldn’t afford the extra time away from work.  But once again, she really didn’t have any choice.

She took a deep breath, went to the nearest kitchen for a cup of hot tea, then began sorting through the file folders stacked on her desk.  She didn’t get very far before the telephone started ringing.  One right after another, she talked to the in-house lawyers at four of the corporations she represented.  She had just returned her attention to the folders on her desk when her intercom buzzed.

She glanced at her watch and groaned.  It was twelve fifteen already.  She leaned over and punched the button to place the call on speaker phone.

Yes, Jackie, I know, she said to her secretary.  The attorney luncheon, right?  I’m getting ready to leave now.

Jackie chuckled.  Just checking, Tia.  Need anything before you go?  I think I’m about to head out to lunch.

Okay, that’s fine.  But when you get back, call down to Word Processing and reserve some time for me.  For Sunday.

Sunday? Jackie asked.

Yep.  At ten in the morning.  I’ll have a draft Joint Pretrial Order for them to type up.  It won’t be more than about ten pages, but I need the first draft back by noon.

So, you’re working again this weekend, Jackie said drily.  And then, Tia, you really need to take some time off.  Not to get all in your business, but everybody needs some down time. 

I know, Tia said.  And I agree.  Just let me get through next week and then I’ll take a few days off. 

Jackie shrugged.  She’d heard that many times before but Tia rarely took time off.  Okay, Tia, she said.  I’m going to lunch. I’ll see you after the luncheon.

Okay, Jackie.  Tia shrugged too as she pressed the button to disconnect the call.  She would love to take some time off, but she was one of just a few black associates at this very prestigious, very white law firm.  Working long hours was the price she had to pay to keep moving toward the rank of partner.  She would take a break once she had achieved her goal.

Tia scooped up a legal pad and a pen from the desk before leaving her office.  By the time she had stopped in the bathroom and caught an elevator down to the second floor, the expansive conference room was already beginning to fill with harried associates.

She quickly claimed an empty seat at a table near the doors.  If she was lucky, she might be able to slip out early and get back to work.  She glanced around the table and greeted her lunch companions.  There was Roger, a junior associate from her own department – employment law; Skip, a more senior attorney who worked in the real estate section of the firm; and a young woman Tia had seen once or twice around the building, but hadn’t yet met.  All white, of course, which wasn’t at all unusual in a top tier law firm in downtown DC.

Tia soon learned that the young woman was Catherine Alexander, a first-year attorney who’d recently graduated from Georgetown Law School.  Catherine was still so excited about landing her new position that she began chattering on and on about the joys of working for Smith, Barnes & Hightower.  She finally shut up when a white-jacketed waiter approached the table with their salad course.

Catherine tried to start another conversation when the waiter left but nobody at the table responded, so they ended up eating their salad in silence.  Finally, someone took the microphone at the front of the room and began to clear his throat. 

A sudden silence descended upon the room.  Tia looked up to find that none other than Martin Weil, himself, the managing partner of the firm, was getting ready to address them.

Good afternoon, everyone, Martin said in his sonorous voice.  I’m glad to see you all could make it today, but I hope that doesn’t mean we’re not keeping you busy enough.

A number of the associates laughed.  Tia wasn’t among them.  It was extremely rare for Martin Weil to even show up at an associate luncheon, let alone take the microphone to speak.

After the laughter died down, Martin smoothly launched into his speech.  I have some great news to share with you today, he said.  "I’m sure that most of you are familiar with Leggett & Sherseys, the mid-sized but powerful law firm on New York Avenue that handles most of the high-profile white-collar criminal and tax law cases in this city.

Martin smiled easily and lifted his arms.  Well, I’m pleased to inform you that Smith, Barnes & Hightower has decided to acquire all of the attorneys and most of the support staff at Leggett & Sherseys with an eye toward integrating them into our corporate structure.

A collective gasp reverberated throughout the room, and then the associates began to murmur among themselves.

Did he just say what I think he said? Roger asked.  How did they manage to keep something like this a complete secret?

Tia simply looked at Roger, too stunned to respond.  No one else at the table offered an answer to Roger’s question either.

Martin tapped the microphone.  Quiet, please, he calmly demanded.  I’ll take all comments and questions after I’ve finished speaking.

When silence reigned, Martin continued.  As we all know, he said, the legal market has become very competitive these days.  And to remain viable, law firms must be repositioned and readjusted to adapt to the current conditions.  We here at Smith, Barnes & Hightower routinely affiliate with other law firms when our clients require assistance in areas outside the scope of our practice.  Well, with this new acquisition, we’ll be increasing the number of cases we can handle in-house from start to finish.  Imagine it, we will now be able to list tax law and white-collar crime among our areas of expertise.

Martin paused and directed a rueful smile to each section of the room.  Unfortunately, he said in a much more somber voice, what is good for the firm as a whole is not always good for each individual member of the firm.  And this situation is no exception.

There was another collective gasp among the associates, followed by more murmuring.  But this time, Martin raised his voice to be heard over them.

As I was saying, he continued.  I can’t emphasize enough how much my partners and I regretted having to make this decision.  But there’s no other workable alternative.  So, unfortunately, we’re going to have to let some of you go.

The buzz of conversation among the associates was growing by the second, but Martin pressed on.  I’m sorry to say, he said, that all associates who work in the employment, insurance, and international law sections of the DC office will be adversely affected.

Tia abruptly began coughing as a chunk of lettuce got stuck in her throat.  At that same moment, Roger dropped his fork and it made a loud clanging sound as it struck his plate.  Someone seated across the room stood and shouted, But you can’t do that!

Martin asked for complete silence until he finished, but it was to little avail.  Some of the associates were crying.  Most of the others continued talking.

The adversely affected attorneys will find that we’ve put together a very generous severance package, he said, all but shouting to be heard.  We’ve put a large, brown envelope on each of your desks and everything’s fully explained in there.  We’ve also designated a contact person to field your questions.  Again, I assure you that . . .

Tia was no longer listening.  Her brain had become too crowded with her own reeling thoughts and she was suddenly filled with rage.  How dare those bastards callously dismiss her like this!  She had sacrificed five years of her life for them.  Given up any semblance of a personal life and pledged her loyalty to the almighty billable hour.  And now they were tossing her out on her ass?

Adversely affected attorneys?  What a bunch of bullshit!  This was exactly what she hated about those blood-sucking partners.  Hire a bunch of associates and work them like dogs so the mighty partners can lie back and collect their million dollar salaries.  Then get rid of the associates as if they were no more than used furniture, go out and buy up some new lawyers, and do whatever it takes to maintain the millionaire lifestyle to which they’ve become accustomed.  The fucking assholes.

Well, screw them!  Shit, they were actually doing her a favor.  She’d been wanting to quit for years now anyway.  And she had some money saved up.  It wasn’t like she ever got any time off from this hell hole to spend her earnings.  So, she should really be thanking those—

Tia snapped back to reality when she saw Roger stand up.  She noticed that certain other associates throughout the room were also starting to stand.  Some of them were from her department, and others were from the insurance and international law sections of the firm.

In a daze, Tia rose and followed her colleagues out of the conference room.  She stood in front of the elevators in silence while snippets of anguished conversation floated around her.  She squeezed into one of the elevators, then woodenly made her way down the hall to her office.

She had just managed to close her office door when the tears started to roll down her cheeks.  Oh, God!  She had been fired!  And what on earth was she going to do now?  What would she tell her family?  Her friends?  And once word of what happened got out within the legal community, would she ever be able to find another job?

She stumbled across the room, collapsed into her chair, and lay her head down on the desk.  Tears streamed from her eyes unchecked as she choked back sobs.  After ten, fifteen, twenty minutes – Tia wasn’t sure how long she’d been crying – she heard a knock on her office door.  She looked up through bleary eyes to find Carl, the elderly security guard who usually only worked on weekends, entering her office.  What in the hell was he doing here?

Carl gave her a sympathetic look and said, I’m sorry, Ms. Jacobs, but they asked me to escort you to the elevators.  He paused before adding, If you want, I can wait right outside your door to give you some time to gather your things.

Tia nodded and, by sheer force of will, managed to pull herself together.  She grabbed her briefcase and lifted out a stack of file folders, dropping them carelessly on the floor and letting the papers scatter everywhere.  She picked up the large, brown envelope containing her severance package and stuffed it inside the briefcase before adding the matching pen and pencil set one of her uncles had given her for graduation, a crystal paperweight, and a small clock radio.

She quickly rifled through her desk drawers and pulled out two pairs of pantyhose, a tube of lipstick, a package of sanitary napkins, and a bottle of clear fingernail polish.  She dumped those items into her briefcase, too, then she grabbed her purse.  She stood and made her way back across the office, snatching her law school and undergraduate diplomas from the wall as she passed by.  A deep breath, followed by two more.  She finally opened the door.

Her secretary, Jackie, was standing in the hallway beside Carl.  Jackie looked up at Tia and swallowed hard, unsuccessfully trying to blink back tears.  Oh, no, she moaned and threw her arms around Tia.

It’s okay, Jackie.  I’m sure everything’s going to be okay, Tia murmured.

Because her hands were full, Tia couldn’t hug Jackie back.  But she stood there and allowed herself to be held.  Somehow, the thought that she had to be strong for Jackie helped her keep her own emotions under control.

Jackie finally released Tia and opened her hand to reveal a crumpled piece of paper.  This is my cell phone number, she said on a sob.  Call me.  I don’t want to lose touch with you.

Tia smiled tremulously.  Okay, Jackie.  Slip it in my pocket.  And stop crying.  Everything’s going to be alright.

With shaking hands, Jackie put the paper in Tia’s jacket pocket.  Don’t forget to call me, Tia.  If I don’t hear from you, I’m going to call you.  Take care of yourself.  And I’ll talk to you soon.

Tia nodded and turned to follow Carl down the hallway.  She felt her anger rise again as she noticed the unfamiliar security guards positioned at either end of the bank of elevators.  Now those fucking partners were treating her like she was no more than a common criminal?

She stepped into an elevator and came face-to-face with yet another security guard.  Lobby or garage, ma’am? he asked in a perfunctory voice.

She glared at him and snapped, Garage!  If she had a free hand, she would’ve been tempted to slap the shit out of him.  Who cared that none of this was his fault?

Have a good day, ma’am, he said when the elevator doors opened a few minutes later.

She directed another withering glare at him and rolled her eyes as she stepped off the elevator.  She marched across the garage to her dark gray Audi A4, tossed her briefcase, purse, and diplomas on the back seat next to the coat she’d forgotten earlier, and peeled out of the garage on squealing tires.

Normally, she wasn’t an aggressive driver.  But today she pushed the rules of the road to the limit.  She made it home in record time and unloaded her belongings on the floor just inside the door of her condo.  Her next stop was the kitchen, where she threw open cabinet doors in search of something to drink.

When her eyes alighted on the bottle of Mount Gay rum below the sink, she got pissed off at Smith, Barnes & Hightower all over again.  She was supposed to have gone on that trip to Barbados, too!  But thanks to yet another emergency at the firm, she had given her airplane tickets and hotel room to her sister, Monica.  All she got was this damn bottle of rum and some souvenirs, while her best friend and Monica came back bragging about the great time they’d had.

She promptly fixed a rum and coke, with the emphasis on rum, and carried it into the living room.  After another drink which she chugged down in the kitchen, she took the rum, soda, and a bowl of ice with her.  Several hours and a few more cocktails later, she was stretched out on the sofa snoring with one arm dangling on the floor.

TWO

Rozlynn Paxton parked in a visitor’s space on the side of Tia’s hi-rise building in Silver Spring, Maryland and prolonged the walk from her car until she spotted an aging white guy with a key to the building.  Then Roz quickly walked up behind the man and into the building’s vestibule, exchanging a smile with him as she followed him into the lobby.

She stopped at the front desk just long enough to tell the doorman that, as usual, Tia was expecting her, then she purposely crossed the lobby at a normal pace.  Once she claimed an empty elevator and pushed the button for the eleventh floor, she congratulated herself on making it into the building.

The welcome mat in front of Tia’s condo near the end of the long carpeted hallway looked as if it had been pushed or kicked off to one side.  Roz walked up to the door and lifted the knocker, striking it repeatedly against Tia’s door.  No answer.  She tried the knocker again and still got no response.  Finally, she balled up her fist and pounded on the door with the heel of her hand.

Back in her bedroom, Tia opened her eyes and squinted against the bright afternoon sun.  BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!  What was that noise?  It sounded like someone was trying to break down her front door.

Tia sat up too quickly and felt a painful throbbing in the center of her head.  She opened her mouth to yawn, and she was so dehydrated that her tongue made a small popping sound as it separated from the roof of her mouth.  She slowly climbed out of bed and pulled down her crumpled nightshirt, carefully made her way into the living room.  She had just put her eye up to the peephole and spotted the familiar dread locks and black leather blazer when Roz pounded on the door again with the heel of her hand.  BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!

O-h-h-h, God, Tia moaned.  She squeezed her eyes shut and placed her hands over her ears until the throbbing in her head receded, then she unlocked the door and snatched it open.

Okay, Roz, she said through clenched teeth.  Enough with the damned banging.

Roz barged through the door and propped her hands on ample, jean-clad hips.  Girl!  Where have you been?  I’ve been calling you for two days straight and your mother–

Tia shuddered and held up her hands.  Please, she begged.  Stop yelling.  Can’t you see I’m in agony here?

Roz grinned.  Don’t tell me you’re nursing a hangover.

Fine, I won’t, Tia said in a scratchy voice.  But I’m going to get some aspirin.  Do me a favor and grab a Coke from the fridge.  I’ll meet you in the bedroom.

Tia felt a little better after she had washed her face and brushed her teeth.  But when she emerged from the bathroom, she could still feel the constant throbbing in her head.  She popped two aspirin, chased them down with long swallows of Coke, and climbed right back into her bed.

Why didn’t you call to let somebody know you were still alive and kicking? Roz asked from her seat in the window.

Sorry.

Roz eyed the empty bottle of Mount Gay on the night stand.  So, I take it you’ve been holed up in here drinking?

Uh huh.

It’s not the end of the world, you know.  You’ve been saying all along that you wanted to leave anyway.

Tia’s mouth dropped open.  You mean you already know?

Of course, I do.  The story hit social media Friday evening and it was on the Saturday morning news.

Shit.  After a long silence, Tia said, It’s not the same as leaving on my own, you know.

I realize that.  But you still got what you wanted, didn’t you?

But what am I supposed to do now?  If I'd left on my own, at least I'd still have some career options.

Maybe you don't need the kind of career options you're talking about.  Everything happens for a reason, you know?  Roz paused and then said, So, tell me how it all went down.

I don’t want to talk about it.

Yes, you do.  It’ll make you feel better to get it off your chest.

Tia waited so long to respond that Roz thought she wouldn’t.  When she did finally tell her story, she spoke in a flat, disinterested monotone and looked straight ahead.  After an entire weekend of drinking and crying, she had finally run out of tears.

Roz shook her head in disbelief when Tia finished.  Damn.  It was as bad as they made it sound online and on TV.

Worse.

Those bastards, Roz said.

They sat there in silence for a while.  Then Roz asked, So, what’s in the mysterious brown envelope?

I don’t know.

"What do you mean, you don’t know?"

I mean I haven’t looked yet.

Roz got up and crossed the room to the bed.  I know you’re depressed right now but you need to know.  She pulled the covers off Tia and said, Come on.  We’re going to the living room.

Tia turned away and curled up into a ball.  Let it go for now, she murmured.  That envelope’s not going anywhere.

Right.  Roz picked up the empty rum bottle and carried it out of the bedroom.  She returned a few minutes later with the envelope.  So do you want to do the honors, or shall I?

When Tia didn’t respond, Roz sat down on the side of the bed and opened the envelope.  Let’s see what we’ve got here . . .

Tia rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

Okay, here we go.  Roz quickly scanned the cover letter.  They’re offering all ‘adversely affected attorneys’ three months’ worth of wages, to be paid bi-monthly until the end of a three-month severance period or until ‘other employment has been obtained,’ whichever comes first.

Tia continued to stare at the ceiling.

They also say they’ve included a lump-sum payment.  Two months’ wages for each year of employment, which in your case comes to ten months’ worth of pay.  Roz flipped through the papers and found a cashier’s check.  She held it out for Tia to see.

Not now, Roz, Tia said, still focusing on the ceiling.

Roz pulled the check back and returned her attention to the letter. "Plus, they’ve hired a legal search firm called Reese & Associates to help you find another job.  They claim it’s the top recruiting firm in the area and say that you can use them for up to six months.  Blah, blah, blah.  And they’ll pay their part of your health and life insurance premiums for one year or until you’re ‘eligible for other coverage,’ whichever comes first.

Roz scanned the rest of the letter before stuffing the papers back into the envelope. Well, at least they did you okay.  They didn’t leave you totally hanging.

Whatever.

Roz looked at Tia.  Come on.  Get up, she said.  Your parents want to see you.  And lying here feeling sorry for yourself is the last thing you need to be doing.

Easy for you to say.  You’ve still got a job.  Tia turned away again and curled back up.

But I’ve been there, too, Tia.  Remember?  Three years ago.  And unlike you, I didn’t get a damn penny.

Tia closed her eyes and tried to tune Roz out.  Getting up and going out was the farthest thing from her mind.  But Roz wouldn’t take no for an answer.  So, Tia eventually dragged herself out of bed to take a shower and get dressed.

* * * * * * * * * *

Roz was driving down M Street in southwest DC, and Tia was riding in the passenger’s seat.  When Roz turned the corner onto Half Place, Tia looked out the window at the newly renovated row houses lining the shady, residential street.  Who would’ve thought the old neighborhood could change so drastically in just a few years?  But more and more, white folks were slowly reclaiming the chocolate city of Washington, DC one row house at a time.

Roz parked her blue Nissan Altima Coupe in a space mid-way down the block and turned to face Tia.  I’m going to drop in on Granny while you’re at your folks’.  I’ll meet you back here in an hour.

Tia got out of the car and slowly walked down the block to her childhood home.  She knew it was ridiculous, but she was almost ashamed to face her parents.  She took a deep breath after she climbed the steps to the porch.  She briefly pressed the doorbell, then she unlocked the door with her own set of keys.

She stepped into the living room and felt a shiver of anxiety as she glanced at the plush, striped furniture she had bought her parents for their last anniversary.  Now that she was out of a job, she wouldn’t be able to give extravagant gifts like this anymore.

That you, Tia? Olivia Jacobs called out.

Yes, Momma.  It’s me.  Tia laid her coat on the sofa and headed toward the kitchen.

Olivia met her daughter in the dining room and gave her a long hug before pulling back to look her over carefully.  Like her mother, Tia was also tall and slim.  But where Olivia was thin almost to the point of being waif-like, Tia was shapely with full breasts and a nicely-rounded behind.  And while Olivia was light enough to almost pass for white with fine, jet black hair that was just beginning to gray around the edges, Tia’s skin-tone was a rich and creamy caramel color and she had a head full of thick, shoulder-length, dark brown hair.

Well, I see you still in one piece, Olivia said.

Tia sighed.  I’m sorry for not calling, Momma.  It’s just that I’ve had a lot to deal with over the last few days.

Well, hiding out from your family and friends ain’t never solved nothing, Olivia said.  Your daddy been so worried about you he durn near drove me crazy around here this weekend.  Got my nerves worked up so bad I couldn’t even make it to church this morning.

Olivia prodded Tia toward the kitchen.  Get on in there so he can see for hisself that you okay.  Maybe now I can finally get some peace around here.

Tia entered the kitchen and found her father sitting at the table in his pajamas and robe.  Stubble covered the lower portion of his dark, handsome face.

Arthur Jacobs looked up at her and smiled.  Well, I’ll be, he said.  My eyes must be playing tricks on me.

She smiled back and said, Hi, Daddy.  She leaned down to kiss him on the cheek and could smell the liquor on his breath, even though he was drinking a cup of coffee.

Now you sit down here and tell your daddy what’s the matter, baby gal, he said.  It ain’t like you to hide from us for a whole weekend.  So, I’m thinking maybe you killed somebody?  Or maybe you was making plans to run off and live on some tropical island?

Tia laughed, despite herself.  Okay, Daddy.  Point taken.  I know I should’ve called.  She shook her head and sighed.  I didn’t realize the media had already picked up the story. I thought everyone would just assume I was working all weekend, like I usually do.

Hmmph! We had to hear about it on the news like everybody else, Olivia said as she placed a steaming hot cup of tea in front of Tia.

Tia gratefully lifted the cup to her lips and cautiously sipped.  Well, from what Roz told me, the media got it just about right.  The managing partner sacked us during the monthly associate luncheon.  Right there in front of everyone else in the firm.

Olivia clucked her tongue sympathetically.  I still can’t believe they did that to you after all these years.

Believe it, Momma.

Well, you just count on the Lord, Tia, said Olivia.  He ain’t going to let you down.  He more than enough to get you through this.

Tia nodded.  As usual, her mother’s solution for everything was to turn to religion.  It had been like this ever since Olivia retired.

Yeah, the Lord going to get you through this, alright, Arthur said wryly.  But it might take you a while to find something else.  You got any money saved up to tide you over?

Uh huh, Tia said.  Plus, the firm’s giving me three months’ severance pay and they’ve hired an employment agency to help everyone find new jobs.

Three months' pay, huh? Arthur said.  Is that going to be enough time?

I hope so, Daddy.  But even if it takes me a little longer, I should be okay.  They also gave me a lump sum payment.

Arthur nodded and sipped his coffee.  Well, if things get tight, you know you can always come on back home.

Tia smiled and said, Thanks, Daddy.  Moving back home was out of the question.  But still, it was sweet of him to offer.

Arthur got up and headed over to the stove to refill his coffee cup.  Tia noticed that he also reached into a cabinet below the sink and topped the cup off with a generous pour of Johnny Walker Red.

So, have you talked to Monica lately? Tia asked her mother, hoping to distract her.  But it didn’t work.

Ain’t you had enough yet, Arthur? Olivia snapped.

I reckon not, he said calmly.  He picked up his cup and returned to the table.

Lord, help us, Olivia said.

So, what’s Monica been up to lately? Tia asked again.  The last thing she needed today was for her parents to start arguing.

Olivia turned to Tia.  Monica?  Oh, she doing alright.  I just talked to her this morning.  She been worried about you, too.

I bet she has been, Tia said.  Worried that I won’t be able to help her out with all those credit card bills anymore.

Tia! Olivia exclaimed.  I don’t believe you!  You know your sister loves you and worries about you too!

Arthur winked at Tia.  That gal ain’t doing nothing but speaking the truth, Olivia.  And you know it.  He sipped his coffee.

Olivia ignored him and said, You need to call your sister and let her know you okay, Tia.  She was going to come over there and check on you earlier this morning, but Roz said she would do it.

Speaking of Roz, I should probably get going, Tia said.  I told her I would meet her back at the car in an hour. 

It ain’t been that long already, has it? Olivia asked.

Just about, Tia said.  And anyway, I want to say hi to her grandmother.  I haven’t seen Mrs. Paxton since she broke her hip a few months ago.

Tia stood and kissed each of her parents on the cheek.  I’ll check back in again in a couple of days, she said.  Take care until then.

THREE

The next two weeks flew by in an alcohol-induced daze for Tia.  She had switched to chardonnay wine after consuming the one bottle of rum, but the result was still the same: extreme intoxication followed by a long, semi-unconscious sleep.

When she woke up on the third Monday afternoon in a row with the hangover that had become her constant companion, she realized it was time to get her act together.  Before she could change her mind, she picked up the telephone and called the employment agency the firm had hired to help her find a new job.

Exactly two days later, Tia entered the legal search firm’s lobby dressed in one of her conservative, black lawyer suits with a floral scarf tied at her neck and a black cashmere coat draped over her arm.  She identified herself to the receptionist, an overweight white woman who reeked of cheap perfume.  She sat down on a leather sofa, picked up a copy of a Forbes magazine.  She made it halfway through an article about Google before her name was called.

Ms. Wannamaker asked me to bring you back, the receptionist said.  She led Tia to a spacious office at the far end of a hall.

Tia sat in the indicated chair and glanced around the color-coordinated room.  Everything was arranged just so and the shiny desk was completely empty, save a telephone.  Clearly, this was the generic interviewing room.

A petite, anorexic-looking, bleached blonde with a perky grin entered the