Page 1 of The Aries Alliance (BLP Signs of Love #14)

The Verdict

I opened the latest email in my overflowing work inbox on my laptop and read the subject line from the Office of Equal Rights, Investigation Findings Report. My breath caught as I closed my eyes. I said a silent prayer, preparing myself for words that would most likely change my life.

“What does it say?” My best friend, Val, whisper shouted the question across the table in the small conference room I reserved for the afternoon at the Ember Falls Public Library.

I glanced out the oversized window on the third floor, which was halfway between my job at Ember Falls University and Val’s at the Ember Falls Credit Union.

Unlike the antiquated three- story red brick building with its pineapple yellow cinder block walls and lime green tile where I worked, the library’s modern aesthetic soothed me with its expensive granite and marble walls and floors.

I smiled as a group of high school kids, in navy blue polos and khaki pants, gathered to make volcanic eruptions with baking soda and vinegar in the open courtyard below. Their enthusiasm for science and life in general, reminded me that life wasn’t so bleak.

Ping.

“Hold on, girl.” I raised an index finger to Val and dropped my eyes to my phone as a notification popped up.

LilDavid:

Want me to come through 2night?

I sighed. This was why sneaky links needed to get certificates in sneaky linkdom before they jumped into that lifestyle.

Lil’David Johnston was a sweet, somewhat naive thirty-one-year-old mama’s boy who’d recently moved from Columbus, Ohio.

We met when I filed a complaint about rotten meat with him in his job as the manager at the Kroger grocery store near my house.

He stood out as an attentive, sensitive guy who hungered to please me.

That was why I now had an overstocked freezer full of lamb chops, steaks, and chicken breasts.

To thank him for the meat, I invited him out on a date to Red Lobster.

Over Cheddar Bay Biscuits, I asked if he’d ever dated a free-spirited woman who didn’t hold conventional views about men taking the lead in the bedroom.

His eyes drooped as he went off on a tangent about a liberal professor named Seraphina who dropped him for a tech billionaire.

Good for her , I wanted to say but, instead, consoled Lil’David with sex at his place. Seraphina’s loss was my gain, because his Hershey’s Kiss dark chocolate body melted in my mouth and my hands. Lil’David’s tongue game had me like putty all night.

At first, Lil’David’s accommodating personality made him endearing.

If I needed a back rub or a quick grocery run, he’d serve me without question.

Although he spoiled me, his neediness outside the bedroom wouldn’t keep my attention in the long run.

I didn’t need a man clinging to me like I was his mama.

But you do need him on your breasts . And your cooch.

I giggled at my joke, causing Val to cock her head and raise her eyebrows as she lifted her head from her phone.

“Give me a minute.” I raised my finger again to signal I needed more time.

Me:

Work stuff has me busy. Hit you up soon.

LilDavid:

Okay.

Me:

Don’t forget to send Mama your morning wood. I need my fix.

I pictured Lil’David frowning like a sad puppy. He did that mess every time I reminded him that I didn’t commit to dudes simply because I invited them between my legs.

He wasn’t the first guy to obsess over me, but dang, if I’d known he was so needy, I would have left his fine, bowlegged tail at Kroger.

I couldn’t blame him, though. He’d gotten caught up in the fiery essence of me, the same aura that reeled dudes to me like fish into a fisherman’s net.

That was until I threw them back into the Sneakylink Sea.

I held the phone until Lil’David sent me my reward for coddling him.

Yes, lawd.

Everything that made him a man was in his nude photo. The tip of his penis glistened just how I liked it. I sent him a heart emoji and put my phone down. I’d respond to him in more detail later.

“You good, sis?” Val put her phone down, her lips pursed and eyes squinted, a signal that I’d better tell her what was going on before she snatched my phone.

I nodded, almost forgetting Val was here.

“Yeah, girl. Lil’David wants a booty call tonight. I don’t have time for that.”

“Did he send you a dick pic?” Val raised her eyebrows and rubbed her hands together.

I leaned forward and licked my tongue out.

“You know he did.” I spoke in a low voice like I was a dirty old woman.

Val held out her hand and wiggled her fingers.

“Sharing is caring.”

I opened my phone and gave it to Val. She licked her lips and forwarded Lil’David’s text to herself before handing my phone back to me.

“You talk about that fine man with the foolish name like a dog, but he has become a good distraction for you. Without his lovin’, you might be in somebody’s mental hospital.”

I didn’t disagree. Val lived vicariously through me when I shared the magic of Lil’David’s tongue lapping across every inch of my body. Little did he know that he was a contributor to some of her fantasies too.

“Why do I need Lil’David when I have a lesbian lover like you?” I reached out to Val and held her hand, looking deep in her wide-set eyes.

She held my gaze for several seconds until she snorted like a pig.

The noise echoed across the room and outside the cracked conference room door.

Patrons in chairs near us looked up from their books and laptops and stared at us as if we were unruly school kids.

I covered my mouth to hold in my laughter but released a guffaw that echoed across the room.

Val raised her index finger to her mouth.

“Shh . . . Don’t get us kicked outta here,” she said with a wide grin before looking around again, fake smiling at the people mean-mugging us.

My being a lesbian was a running joke between Val and me.

It started when we were college roommates at Clark Atlanta University.

As I took classes about Black feminism and critical race theories in my African American studies classes, I came home each break more aware of the toxicity in my home life.

Those changes negatively impacted my relationship with my mother.

Mom threw her venom at me when I criticized her for catering to my deadbeat father.

At eighteen, she got pregnant by him and had five kids in six years.

She was so busy making my dad a hot plate after his construction job every night and giving him sex on demand that I ended up raising her kids.

My teachers called child protective services when I was sixteen years old and showed up for my younger siblings’ parent-teacher meetings more than my parents.

Since then, Mom berated me every chance she got, saying that I had too much testosterone.

She swore that my mannish, overbearing ways were why I was still single at thirty-nine.

When I told her that being an intersectional feminist didn’t make me a lesbian, she started a rumor among our closest family members that Val was my girlfriend and that I was in denial about what God created me to be.

Even now, my eyes tightened as I thought about our relationship. Like those I worked with at Ember Falls University, she tore me down, treating me like I got what I deserved for being too mouthy.

Despite my stepping up and earning a Ph.D.

, Mom’s emotional abuse never stopped. She was quick to criticize me for being book smart but not having the commonsense God gave a flea.

I’d just roll my eyes and bite my tongue, tucking that pain away as I reminded myself that was her hurt talking.

I always took the high road, never picking up her stones and throwing them back at her.

With her tissue-paper feelings, she’d probably crumble and tell everyone I drove her to meanness.

Because of the lessons I learned in college and my lived experiences, I vowed to be an advocate for vulnerable people.

It came to me naturally, since my entire life, I took care of everyone, even when those who were supposed to protect me didn’t.

That was what brought me to my current quest for justice.

“I’m nervous about opening the report.” I spoke the words out loud, biting my nails before taking a big breath.

Despite my fearlessness in calling people out, I wanted to be validated for my work and my beliefs.

Val placed her hand over mine.

“Take a deep breath.” She raised her hands up and down as she inhaled and exhaled deeply, signaling for me to do the same. “You’ve got a paper trail a mile long.”

I closed my eyes and mimicked Val’s actions. I then smiled at my friend, whose gold septum and labret piercings gave her the appearance of a modern African queen.

She was right. My case was rock solid, and I never backed down from a challenge. Persistence in the face of adversity had become my brand. That was why I was the target of retaliation at work.

I was a natural-born leader and manager, organized to a fault.

I kept physical and virtual files about work occurrences that were more comprehensive than the average attorney, in my home office.

With insider information about anyone who even breathed wrong at marginalized people in my organization, I was anxious to find the right time and place to expose wrongdoings against vulnerable people and protect myself in the process.

As the first Black woman tenured professor in the Department of Biomedical Engineering at Ember Falls University, I wasn’t exempt from microaggressions and sabotage. I could have left academia years ago and gotten a job in industry earning twice my salary, but giving up wasn’t in my DNA.