Page 33 of Unbossly Manners

“Have you seen him?” Selena said. “He’s sexy as hell and has that whole hardcore cop thing about him.”

“He must be really experienced.” My internal thoughts popped out, and I threw my hand over my mouth.

“If you like him, we don’t have to go through with the agreement,” Jackson said.

“Oh,” I said surprised. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No,” Jackson said definitively.

“Me either.” My mind wandered to Derrick. Had he been flirting? “I may need it more than ever.”

Selena swept her gaze down my maxi skirt.

“What are you wearing?”

I ran my hands over the light material, self-conscious. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it.”

“Oh.” I ducked my chin. “I thought you liked the booty shorts and skirts.”

Selena knitted her eyebrows together. “I do. On me.”

“You look great.” Jackson leaned in. “More relaxed.”

Derrick clapped his hands to grab everyone’s attention, and we turned to the small stage.

“Good evening, everyone. This is an introduction to self-defense. But it is also a lesson in what consent looks like. A woman shouldn’t have to protect herself; men need to stop assaulting women. Self-defense should be the last measure.”

A white screen rolled down from the ceiling behind him and an image came onto the screen. It was from a movie in the 90s where a young man is having sex with a woman who is passed out drunk.

“Is this consent?”

There were a few mumbles of no.

“Absolutely not.”

The image changed and a screenshot from a TV show came up.

“In the scene I’m about to play, the man is the woman’s boss. He has all the power in their relationship. They’re on a work trip. He has invited her to watch a movie in his hotel room.”

The clip began. It showed a boss seducing a much younger assistant. He hugged her, and she was obviously uncomfortable. Then the boss planted a kiss on her lips, and the assistant appeared shocked, frozen in place. The boss pushed her on the bed and took off her clothes. Her face showed fear but she didn’t stop him.

“Is this consent?” Derrick asked.

A few people mumbled no, but not as many.

“Did she say stop?”

I glanced at Jackson. His face had darkened.

“That was not consent,” Derrick continued. “The first line of defense to protect women is to teach men what consent looks like. The boss had all the power. He could fire her, and she knew it. It doesn’t matter that she went to his hotel room. It doesn’t matter that she never said the word no. He should never have put her in that situation.”

Derrick’s gaze blazed over the crowd, his voice low, his tone stern. I would not want to be on the other side of an interrogation table with him.

On top of an interrogation table… yes, please.

The thought surprised me.

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