“I’ll have you know, Mr. Randolph, that I’m proud to be a Black woman, a Black woman with intelligence and talent. I’m a damn good actress too, did you know that? No, because you never once asked me a personal question, treated me like a real person. To you I’m just as much a trophy as those pathetic animal heads on your walls. I don’t intend to stay a poor nobody, working for chump change, all my life. I’m going to start my own production company someday, once I get the funding. And as for looking extra Black, sure, I can do that. I’ll get a huge Afro, so wide it won’t fit through the door! Maybe I’ll stick an Afro pick with a Black Power fist in it! But why stop there? I’ll put a bone in my nose too. That should convince your white-bread clients I’m Black enough!”

Mortimer looked at me inscrutably. “Are you quite through, Miss Portman?”

“Almost. You know, Mr. Randolph, I could raise quite a stink with a sexual harassment suit against you and your firm. I could file a racial defamation suit too. Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. But it would be a waste of time. After all”—I flashed a sarcastic smile—“you are the best lawyer east of the Mississippi, aren’t you?”

Mortimer rocked forward in his chair. “I am indeed. Now, Miss Portman, would you mind putting down the knife?”

“What?”

“The knife in your hand. You have made quite a mess of my desktop.”

I looked down. The paring knife was indeed in my hand; I must have picked it up at some point. The desktop was riddled with small punctures where I’d stabbed it during my tirade. I gently sat the knife down next to the spiraling apple peels.

“I’ll get my things,” I said, turning to leave. “I’d appreciate it if you would mail me my last check.”

“One moment, Miss Portman. You’re not fired. No one’s ever had the—pardon the expression—balls to stand up to me like you just did. You’ve given me a lot to think about. I’ll make you another deal. If you promise not to raise a stink, as you say, I’ll let you keep your job—I rather think you need it, yes?—and I won’t ruin your reputation in this town, which I promise you is well within my power to accomplish. And just to show you what kind of man I am, I’m giving you a raise. How does another dollar an hour sound?”

Skinflint. “That sounds fine, sir.” I could feel my swallowed pride hitting my gut like an anvil.

“Very good. I’ll see you at seven on Friday. Oh, and Miss Portman?”

“Yes?”