8: ONYX

"You're scheduled to meet with my new hire in one hour for lunch," Neha Singh, my Chief Human Resources Officer, announces.

"Why am I meeting her for lunch again, and why couldn't she make this meeting?" I ask, looking up briefly from my iPad.

"She attended a diversity and inclusion training this morning and won't be available until one to meet with you. She has a very comprehensive plan to enhance our inclusion initiatives."

"Enhance?" I scoff. "We need to throw out the old one and create a new plan altogether, Neha."

"I know, and that's where she comes in. She has a strategic plan that we can implement, and it still takes some of the core components of our existing plan and builds on those. She says we have great building blocks, but we just didn't build them out properly. With all the allegations we've faced in this last year on discrimination, she's the perfect person to fill this role, and I'm excited about what she'll bring to the table."

"And what's her name again?" I ask absentmindedly.

"Michelle. Michelle Watson."

I nod.

"She'll be here within the next hour, Onyx. I need you to be nice and pay attention. She's going to be a valuable asset to this company, and I'm sure that you'll be amazed at what she has to say. Michelle's very bright and talented."

"I'm sure she is," I say distractedly. "How are we coming along on our cross-training program?"

"Wonderful."

"We are?"

"No, I'm referencing how well you are at changing the subject, Onyx," Neha says with a pointed gaze at me.

Those dark brown eyes always seem to be able to see right through me. Sometimes, I wonder if she can read my mind. Smirking, I reply, "I have five minutes before my next meeting. And if you have me scheduled to meet with Michelle in an hour, I need to hurry up and get to that meeting. So, I need to get the tedious items out of the way and focus on the most important matters. You know this, Neha."

"Mm-hmm," she mumbles. "The cross-training program started two weeks ago, and so far, we haven't had any complaints. A few suggestions, but they were very insightful and helpful."

"And our succession plan? I know that we identified there needed to be some changes in our potential successors. How are we coming along with identifying those new successors for the executive roles and developing their KSAs?"

"We have identified new successors for Nicholas, Jaylen, and Mia's roles. However, we have not begun the process of training those employees."

"Did Nick, Jay, and Mia sign off on the plan to train their successors?"

"Nicholas and Mia have, but Jaylen hasn't yet. He just returned to the country yesterday, and he'll be in the office tomorrow."

I nod.

"Our succession plan will go a long way to removing the barriers to internal advancement, and I'm confident that Michelle's new plan will contribute to that by ensuring that we eliminate any implicit biases. You have homework," she says, standing and dropping files on my desk.

"What's this?" I ask, looking up at her.

"The succession plans for each of those roles. You still haven't read them or signed off on them yourself."

I smirk at her. "I promise to have them to you by the end of this week."

"Sounds like something I heard last week," she says with a smirk, walking to the door.

"You have my word, Neha."

She straightens out her tan pantsuit, smoothes her inky black hair which is pulled into a tight bun into place, and nods before leaving my office.

Turning to my iPad, I pull up my next meeting.

"Hey, baby. How are you feeling today?" I ask when Meadow's face comes onto the screen.

She shrugs and pulls a hand through her long, tangled curls.

"I've been better," she says softly.

Nodding, I say, "I didn't wake you before I left this morning because you had a long night. You tossed and turned all night so when I saw you sleeping peacefully, I didn't want to disturb that."

"Thank you."

"Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Meadow, baby, you can't keep skipping meals."

"I don't, Onyx. I grab something throughout the day."

"Okay. Are you going to visit Mak and Yaya today?"

She shakes her head.

"Isn't today your monthly scheduled luncheon?"

She nods.

"Then why aren't you going? You've skipped the last couple."

Meadow sighs loudly and drags her hand through her hair once more. Some days, time seems like it's flying by, while other days, time drags on.

The news media indicated that police believed the assailant had moved on to another area. With that statement, the media moved on to other more pressing and interesting stories.

Unfortunately for us, we haven't moved on. It's like we've been stuck in a bubble or a time capsule. Meadow refuses to continue therapy. She went to one session and then quit. No matter what I say to her, she won't return and she won't allow me to attend with her.

"I'm not in the mood for company, okay? I really wish you'd stop pestering me about it."

"It will be good for you to get out and be around—"

"Crying babies? Lactating mothers? I don't need that," she says sadly.

I lean back in my chair as my heart sinks. I don't know what to do for my wife, and she's not helping me. She's effectively pushed her friends and our family away claiming that she's always busy with a new dance choreography or program.

Truthfully, she's lost interest in dance, as well. She goes to the studio and she teaches her students, but that light and passion aren't in her eyes anymore. She's forbidden me to say a word about it to our families.

I'm struggling to handle this on my own, and I question myself a thousand times a day whether I'm equipped for the role.

The answer that always shows itself is, "Of course you are." I said I do, in sickness and in health, and for better or for worse. I said that I would be here for her, and I meant it.

Only no one told me that "for worse" would be this hard, this excruciating, or this gut-wrenching.

"Have you given any more thought to seeing that therapist?"

"I don't need counseling, Onyx."

"Well, maybe I do. Maybe I need some support to help me better take care of you and myself," I say, growing frustrated with Meadow's dismissive attitude. "The least we can do is attend couples' therapy or someone who can help us get our sex life back."

"Is that all you think about?"

"It's not all, but yes, I think about it a lot. It's been just over two months, MJ. Two months since you've let me hold you, love you, and I need it."

"Then, damn it, get some counseling. Get a hooker. Get whatever you need! Just leave me the hell alone!" she snaps.

Just like that, she ends the call.

"Fuck!" I grumble, slamming my iPad closed.

I shove back from my chair and rest my elbows on my knees. Dragging my fingers through my hair, I close my eyes and breathe deeply several times to calm myself.

How the hell do I run a billion-dollar company, manage thousands of employees, procure multi-million-dollar contracts, and can't handle my own wife?

She won't let me touch her, and she refuses to converse with me. Meadow has shut me out. As much as I want to run to her family for help, I know that isn't an option, and it angers me. The fact that when we need them most, they aren't here is a thorn in my side. And why? Because they look down on our wealth.

I stand and walk to the corner of my office and grab the putter. I line it up with the ball and try to focus. My concentration is shot, and I miss the hole. Throwing the putter at the bookshelf on the other side of the office, I growl and punch my fist in the air.

Before I meet with Michelle Watson, I need to regain control.

"Your lunch has been ordered, Mr. Maxwell, and your next appointment is scheduled to arrive in forty minutes," Alicia, my executive admin, says when I step out of my office.

"Thanks, Alicia. I'll be back on time," I promise, heading for the elevators.

All I need is a little walk, and I'll be as right as rain in no time.

***

"Mr. Maxwell, your one o'clock has arrived," Alicia announces at ten minutes ‘til one.

"Send her in," I say.

I didn't start another task when I returned to the office five minutes ago because I knew that it would be pointless. To take another call, open another email, or place my attention on another contract would further agitate me when I would have to shut it down no sooner than I started.

The door opens, and a full-figured, beautiful, brown-skinned woman in a burgundy fitted skirt suit steps inside. Thick, fluffy curls frame her face and shoulders and puckered lips the color of her suit form an "O."

"Sharla?"

"Nyx."

A derisive chuckle drops from my lips as I turn my head sideways and then shake it.

"Sharla Michelle Watson. I didn't make the connection."

Laughing, she says, "When I accepted the role, I knew that you were the CEO. I just didn't know until two days ago that I would be having lunch with you or interacting with you at all."

"And yet, you still came."

"I still came," she says, nodding slowly. "I didn't know how to reach you to give you a heads-up."

"Why are you really here?"

"For the job. That's all."

"And you think that I'm interested in having you on board?"

"I was hoping that we could keep it professional and aboveboard. No mudslinging or personal issues."

I scoff, shaking my head. "I wouldn't do that because that's not the kind of man that I am. But I also don't think that I'm interested in working with you."

"You don't have to work with me, Onyx. I'm here to do a job, and from my understanding, I'll be working with Neha and a few other execs and managers not with you."

I blow out a long breath.

"I don't need this shit today," I say, turning my back on her.

"Look, I could pretend like I don't know why you have an attitude with me. I could also pretend that you do know why I have an attitude with you but I'm sure that you haven't been told the truth about what really happened between us."

"The truth?"

"Yes."

"The truth is you walked out on me while I was away. You didn't even have the decency to call and break up with me. You just disappeared with no explanation. And for what? To run off with that thug of an ex of yours? That was cowardly, Sharla. I would have expected a lot more from you."

"I meant the truth from my lips not my mother's twisted version or your father's lying lips."

"That was bold."

"No, what was bold, Onyx, was your father showing up at our house and paying my mother a nice sum of money to send me away to school. Anyplace out west that was far enough from where his Ivy League-bound son was attending school."

Shock and disbelief war inside of me for a leading place. "What?"

"The day after you and your mother flew up to visit Harvard, your father visited us. He paid my mother one hundred thousand dollars, in addition to the cost of my tuition to attend the University of Utah, as long as I promised not to contact you again."

"The fact that you're telling me this makes me wonder how true it is."

"The one thing you've known about me is that I'm not a liar. He made my mother sign an NDA."

"And you? Didn't he require you to sign one?"

"He did. Only it wasn't my name that I signed."

"My father is too smart to have let that pass."

"I signed my name as Sharla Michelle Watson, only I spelled my middle name with one ‘l' and no ‘e' on the end. Technically, it wasn't my signature," she says with a shrug.

Turning my lips down, I reply, "Technicality. He could have gotten that overthrown in court easily."

Her words hurt, though they shouldn't. Knowing that she preferred my wealth over and our relationship over my love burns deep. And yet, here we are years later and what we had should be the furthest thing from my mind, but I can't help but recall how strongly I felt for her or how deeply I hurt over losing her.

Sharla was the first woman that I proposed to. She was the first woman who understood me, and I could see myself spending my life with her. When she disappeared without notice, I was confused and hurt. Her mother told me that she'd packed up and moved out west with her ex-boyfriend. A guy that I knew had been trying to get Sharla back so it was easy for me to believe.

I keep my face schooled impassively as I reply, "Very brazen of you. Makes me wonder how you got hired into my company. Have you done your research and just come back to try and get back in my good graces?"

"Why would I do that? I've gone on with my life, Nyx."

"Don't call me that. It's Onyx, or better yet, Mr. Maxwell."

She crosses her arms over her ample bosom, and those light brown eyes flash fire at me. "I don't know what you thought, and I don't care what you believe. An executive recruiter approached me about this job, hired me from Ernst and Young with a very lucrative salary and signing bonus, and I agreed. I didn't come into this company with hopes of sinking my teeth into you."

"Are you sure?" I ask, walking to my desk.

"Look, just ask Neha. She knows. I was hesitant to take the job which is why she offered me the fifty grand signing bonus over the original twenty-five grand. She also met my salary requirements, and I knew that I would be a fool to turn the offer down. The opportunity to head up the diversity and inclusion initiative of a growing global company is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a girl like me."

She says that last bit with a little bite.

"What's that supposed to mean? A girl like you? You've never felt sorry for yourself before or allowed where you came from to define you."

"Your father's words to my mother not my own."

Ouch.

Sharla grew up on Coming Street, one of the poorer neighborhoods in Charleston. She and her mother had lived in affordable housing for as long as Sharla could recall. Her mother worked as a patient tech making less than thirty-five grand annually at the hospital where my mother worked which was how I met Sharla.

I had gone to my mother's job one day the summer before my sophomore year to help her out with a presentation she was doing. When I was leaving, I'd bumped into Sharla and dropped a box full of supplies I'd been carrying back to my car.

She apologized profusely for several seconds before she offered to help me restock my box. Once that was completed, I was taken in by those soft brown eyes, that raspy Southern voice, and her fully developed body that rivaled any woman's.

I knew that I couldn't let the opportunity to get inside of her pants pass so I'd asked if she could take my keys and open the trunk for me to put the box inside. She did, and we exchanged numbers afterward. But Sharla was a challenge. She wasn't like the other girls who fell at my feet and left their panties in my car. She forced me to get to know her and the more that I did, the more that I liked her.

We became an item, but it took an entire year before she had sex with me. Learning that she was a virgin gave me a new level of respect for her. By the end of our junior year, I was head over heels in love, following her around like a lovesick puppy to my father's dismay.

My father said that she wasn't suitable company to pursue, but she was good for "fucking." That statement angered me and made me even more determined to marry her after college.

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," I say, finally responding to her statement.

"Then you shouldn't be surprised that I disappeared."

Irritation burns inside of me, and that has me scowling at her. "Sharla, you weren't supposed to take what he offered," I say in disappointment, shaking my head.

"What was I supposed to do?"

"I would have hoped that you would have made a stand for us the same way that I would have if the roles were reversed."

"That would have been much easier for you. You had the comfort of your wealth to fall back on, Onyx. You always bragged about how you could never be denied anything. Me? What did I have? The opportunity to be out on the streets? Cast aside by my mother who was determined to get her hands on that money one way or the other?

"I didn't have the options you did. I was told that I could either sign that NDA or get the hell out of her house. No trust funds were waiting for me or full scholarships to fall back on. There was no family that I could stay with since most of my family lived in crowded public housing anyway and could barely feed the mouths under their roofs."

"You could have called me. I would have been there."

"I did call you, Onyx. You never returned my calls that weekend. Your father gave me until Sunday night. Once I signed it and accepted it, he had me on a flight the very next day although school didn't start until two weeks later. He made special arrangements for me to move in early."

"I called you when I returned. Your phone was disconnected."

She nods. "I know. Mama changed our phone number. If only we'd had cellphones back then. Either way, you never came to see me."

"I did. Your mother said that you'd packed up and moved out West with Keyshawn," I say of her ex-boyfriend.

Surprisingly, there's no bitterness on her face. She laughs. "Onyx, we can't change the past, and it's unfortunate for both of us. I knew that you loved me, and I knew that I loved you, but love wasn't enough. We were played and manipulated by the adults in our lives. My only prayer is that you don't prevent me from having the job of a lifetime because of what some adults did in our lives."