Page 15 of Let's Call a Truce
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’ve been avoiding you for two years, Benjamin. There’s nothing special about this week.” I kept my back to him, never looking away from the microwave. Maybe avoiding direct interaction would drive him away. Starve him until he sought his amusement elsewhere.Please don’t feed the wildlife.
“See, you say you’ve always avoided me, but you’re more likely to fight me at every turn than run. Suddenly you’re all… skittish.”
That comment—like I was hiding after he got one up on me—was enough to throw my determination not to engage out the window. I swung around to face him. “Skittish? Like a rabbit?”
“Exactly,” he replied with a self-satisfied smile. “Every time you see me, you go sprinting off to your thicket. The only explanation I can come up with is you don’t trust yourself around me after Saturday.”
My nails dug into the palms of my clenched fists. I shot a quick glance around the break room to confirm we were alone. “You conceited, insufferable prick.”
“It’s hard not to be conceited considering the way you look at me.”
“Like I’m planning your murder?”
He chuckled. “Sure, something like that. But I wanted to talk to you about extending our truce. I think we should try to be civilized. For Asia’s sake, if not our own. Is that something you can handle?”
“Something you can handle.”The volume of my voice was increasing with each word. I took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. “I swear you must sit around brainstorming the perfect phrases to annoy me. Why do you do it?”
He paused, looking off pensively, like he had never considered the question before. “Maybe I like watching how you react. Your face gets all flushed, like it did at the rabbit comment, right before you let out some scathing retort. I sometimes think I spend half of my day waiting to hear what you’ll say next.”
I stared at him with wide eyes, surprised into silence by his honesty. My stomach lurched, from leftover embarrassment or fear of what Ben’s statement might mean, I couldn’t say. The silence stretched between us, thick with questions.
He shifted on his feet. “So, can we act civilized?”
I lifted my chin, trying to look as imperious as possible under the unflattering fluorescent lights. “Civilized people don’t make inappropriate comments about heated looks and blushing in the workplace.”
“Fair.” His smile was small but seemed genuine enough. There was a chance we could turn over a new leaf. “No more inappropriate comments. And I promise not to ask you to come home with me again.”
I nodded but gave nothing in return as my stomach swooped in relief. It had to be relief. Nothing else made sense.
He winked as he walked toward the door. “I’ll wait for you to ask me.”
Chapter 5
“We’ve tagged eachnew designer asminority-owned and operatedin our system. This will allow us to diversify both the people with whom we work and the artistic range of our designs.” Asia referenced the slide at the front of the auditorium as I looked out over the mass of employees.
Not long after my promotion to director, Asia approached me with an idea to increase the diversity within KMG. She would tackle outside partners while I looked to revamp our recruitment process—minor changes that would hopefully lead to a large impact.
Asia moved to the next slide for me in a dance we had choreographed through hours of obsessive practicing. “The last part of this initiative is a change to our HR screening interviews. We believe having people of different backgrounds at KMG will bring us unique perspectives that will push us all to be our best. Any questions?”
Hands shot up around the room, and I pointed to the person closest to me. I recognized his face from the engineering team but couldn’t place his name. Keith, Carter, Clint…?
“Now, I’m obviously not racist…” Keith/Carter/Clint began.
I suppressed a groan and tried not to roll my eyes over to the now-twenty-dollars-richer Asia. She’d bet we would hear some variation of that phrase within the first three questions. Iknew I’d still find a smile on her face if I looked. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let him see her anger.
“… but why are you forcing us to hire people based on their skin color? That’s what seems racist to me.”
Christina pushed herself up, but I jumped in before she could speak. This hiring initiative was my baby, and I wanted to be the one to defend it. My stomach fluttered as I looked out over the crowd, a combination of anxiety at the potential fight and the nervous excitement I always felt when presenting.
“We are not forcing anyone to hire anyone else. We’re trying to widen our pool. Show of hands: How many of you have either hired or were hired by a person in your network?”
I paused as most hands around the room went up, including my own.
“Our networks tend to be people with similar backgrounds and experiences to ours. It’s not a criticism. It’s a fact. We are pushing KMG out of our bubble so we can grow into something even more impressive than we are today.”
Keith/Carter/Clint nodded along, though he didn’t seem convinced. The last questions focused on logistics rather than criticism, and Asia and I shared a secretive smile as we returned to our seats. We’d prepared for a lot more pushback than we received.
