“Anyway, so I’ve been here six years, and I’m still in an Attorney One position. Herb’s been promoted. Chuck’s been promoted. Even Doug has been promoted, for God’s sake. Every man in the department has been promoted. But not me.”
“You should file a complaint,” Ben said.
“Oh, they’re way ahead of me there. They’ve been papering my file since day one. You know, I wasn’t always the quiet, mousy, pathetic nonentity you’ve known. When I first came here, I could belly up with the best of them. And on my very first review, they complained that I was too aggressive. Strident. Can you imagine them ever telling a male attorney that he was too aggressive? But that’s what they told me.”
“Crichton, I assume.”
“Yeah. The thing is, I’m not even sure he realizes that there’s anything wrong with that. I don’t think he’s intentionally discriminating against women. I think he’s oblivious to it. I think his sexism, his different standards and expectations, his preference for working with other men, is so deeply ingrained that he isn’t even aware of what he’s doing.
“Anyway, it was clear that if I continued behaving as I had—actively, aggressively—I was going to be out on the streets.”
“So you…changed?”
“Of course. I didn’t feel I had any choice. It was a real compromise—but you know how bad the job market is in the Southwest right now, and it would be even worse if I were fired, or if I quit after receiving a negative review that every subsequent employer would read. So I did what they wanted. I did my work, and I did it quietly. But as you may have noticed, I still haven’t been promoted.”
“Perhaps you should file a Title VII lawsuit.”
“I threatened to do just that, when Crichton started giving me grief about taking maternity leave. So what did they do? They promoted Candice. Not far—certainly not as far as her male peers, but they did give her a token promotion. And we both know why they chose her—she only got that tiny promotion after she gave Herb what he wanted.
“The point is, if I claim Apollo engages in systematic sex discrimination, they’re going to haul out Candice, their token female attorney with a promotion, and deny everything. The only reason Shelly wasn’t promoted, they’ll say, is her poor work performance. And then they’ll haul out all these bullshit evaluations they’ve been writing to prove it.”
“That’s insidious,” Ben said quietly. “You should fight them. Surely some judge would listen to you.”
“Ben, I can’t afford to lose my job. Who’s going to hire me now—a single mother with a three-month-old baby? Forget it. They know I’m helpless. As Crichton himself said, ‘Screw you—where are you going to go?’ ” She pressed her free hand against her forehead. “And then Chuck started doing his junior supervisor routine on me, threatening to get Crichton to fire me. I was so scared. I guess you know Howard was Angie’s father.”
“I suspected.”
“And then he was killed, and I didn’t know what we were going to do.”
Ben kept his personal opinion to himself—that she was better off without him.
“It all welled up inside me at that retreat at Camp Sequoyah. Crichton was complaining that I was spending too much time with my baby, and Chuck was threatening to get me fired. You probably remember that big scene at Crackerbarrel, when Chuck said he was going to get Crichton to can me. The next day, I’m sure you also saw him huddled with Crichton on the High Course. I knew I was the topic of conversation. And Crichton looked like he was buying every lie Chuck told him.”
“So you cut Crichton’s belay line.”
Shelly nodded. “How did you know?”
“Well, after I didn’t find the knife up on the high course, I realized my initial theory was wrong. So I just kept thinking about that morning, where everyone was sitting, what everyone was doing. And I finally remembered you, spreading mayonnaise on sandwiches. With a knife.”
“Just a kitchen knife. But it was sharp enough. When I was done, I put it back where it belonged with all the other lunch paraphernalia. It was the Purloined Letter principle—since it was in plain sight, exactly where it was supposed to be, the cops overlooked it.” She smiled faintly. “Thanks for covering for me at the staff meeting.”
Ben tossed his paper cup into the trash. “No problem. I didn’t figure you were the hardened criminal type.”
“If Crichton knew, he’d fire me. It would be just the excuse he’s been waiting for. And he might have me arrested as well. I don’t know what Angie would do if I went to prison.” She kissed Angie on the cheek. “But taking the blame onto yourself like that. You could get into some big trouble. Crichton might bring charges.”
“I don’t think so. I have a bit of leverage over him at the moment. I also have a friend, Clayton Langdell, who could probably give you a job—outside Apollo. Or I think I can ensure that you keep your present job for some time. Whatever you want.”
She paused for a moment. “Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you. I can’t stand that place, but I hate to just give up.”
“I understand. It’s a hard fight, but it’s fighters like you who are going to make the world a better place”—he poked Angie in the tummy—“for people like her.”
Angie grabbed Ben’s finger. He reached out and took her into his arms.
“You’ve been so kind to me,” Shelly said. Her eyes were welling up. “And I don’t even know why.”
Ben bounced the little girl in his arms. “Well,” he said, “we all do what we can.”
Angie clapped her hands together and cooed.
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copyright © 1993 by William Bernhardt
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