Page 53 of Token

“I told him the tattoos I could deal with but that the weird-color hair had to go.”

“And what happened?”

“He quit right then and there and never came back. Said he was bored with the job anyway. Smart-ass.” The latter he muttered under his breath.

“We’ll need to get in touch with the young man to verify your version of the events.”

“I’ve got no problem with that. Human Resources can get you the information. The kid couldn’t have worked there more than a few months. I almost forgot about him.”

That gave Kennedy pause enough to ask, “In general, how often do you think you’ve commented on your employees’ hair color or hairstyles?” Given the circumstances, she would have thought the incident would have been foremost in his mind. It was, after all, the best defense he had that he hadn’t broken New York State hair discrimination law.

Joseph Russo blinked owlishly. “I—I don’t—I mean, I typically don’t comment on things like that.” After a beat, he added, “I may have complimented someone here and there. New hairstyle, a nice cut, that sort of thing. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Have you ever complimented Miss Montgomery on her hair?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

Oh, he knew. But what was becoming clear to her was that Joseph Russo had a thing with hair. He liked it presented a certain way. Neat and only in colors natural to humans.

“This may end up being a case where we can prove you didn’t have any discriminatory intent in your objections to Miss Montgomery’s hair, but the takeaway could be that you’re too fixated on how and what your employees do with their hair, depending on what the employees who you’ve complimented have to say, if anything.”

“What, so it’s now a crime to compliment someone on their hair?”

Where had they stashed the machine that removed sticks from people’s butts?

“What I’d suggest you do, once this is over and you have your job back, is keep those thoughts to yourself. You don’t want anyone accusing you of favoritism, and that’s what compliments of any kind tend to lead people to believe.”

He opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut just as quickly, which was probably for the best. The less he said, the better things would eventually work out for him. He seemed to be straining against the restrictions his suspension placed on him, feeling helpless to say and do what he wanted. But that was because he knew that what he wanted to say wasn’t in his best interest. Financially or career-wise.

“Here’s what we need to do. First, we’ll get in touch with the young man and get a statement from him regarding the circumstances around his departure from the station. And then we need to get a picture of Miss Montgomery’s hair on the day of the incident. Right now, the picture going around social media isn’t one with her hair dyed green and pink, and that’s what’s fueling the anger toward you. Once we have those two things, I’m positive the furor over this will die down and you’ll be able to return to your job with little to no fanfare.”

The strain of the last week was etched on his face, giving him a tired, beaten look. Or maybe that was the way he always looked. Really, who could tell?

“And maybe you could talk to her—Alexis,” he said. “I think she’d listen to you and withdraw the complaint if she felt you didn’t think what I said had anything to do with her race.”

Reaching out to the plaintiff in situations like this sometimes backfired. Some women felt betrayed and believed she was siding with the enemy. But in the carrot-and-stick approach to diversity, she thought the carrot approach achieved better results. Faster.

“Right now, you have a lot working for you without me having to speak to Miss Montgomery. But if at any point I deem it necessary, I’ll certainly reach out to her.”

Mr. Russo nodded. “Thank you. I know you mean well, and I appreciate what you’re doing for me. I sincerely do.”

Kennedy could tell the words hadn’t come easy but that he meant it. “It’s all in a day’s work,” she said lightly.

14

Later that week, Kennedy informed Nate that they’d be spending their second official date with one hundred and fifty other people. Left up to him, he’d have opted for something more low-key, like a dinner, a play...and a late dessert, preferably at his place. The pair of messages he’d received dashed his hopes for an intimate party of two.

Kennedy: Ur in 4 a treat. On Sat we’re going to a launch party for Sahara’s new clothing line. And you won’t need a car, Sahara is sending a limo! See you in front of your building at 8 sharp.

Kennedy: Oh, and in case it’s not obvious, jacket & tie are NOT optional.

Still, he’d taken solace in the fact they’d have some alone time during the ride. So, imagine his surprise when he’d climbed into the back of the limo to discover she already had company.

What his beautiful date had neglected to mention in her messages was that they’d be sharing a ride with her office manager, Jonathan, and his husband.Isn’t it great that Jonathan and Darrell are on the way? Now we can all arrive together,she’d said brightly while sandwiched between the two men. In turn, he’d plastered a smile on his face and warmly greeted the couple as he watched his only chance to have her to himself for the evening go up in smoke.

The event was being held at a ballroom in the Ritz-Carlton near Central Park, and thankfully, the men excused themselves as soon as they’d all checked in at the door, announcing they were off to mingle with the stars. Guests at the event included several well-known actors, a few executives from the clothing manufacturer, and a sizable cohort from the music industry.

For the occasion, Nate had hauled out his navy blue Armani suit that had last seen action at the party he and his siblings had thrown to celebrate their parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Beside him stood Kennedy in a dark gold dress that exposed almost every inch of her slim, flawless back, the hem falling several tantalizing inches above her knees. Tonight her eyes appeared more gray than blue, and an abundance of dark hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back in shiny corkscrew curls. She was nothing short of stunning, as evidenced by the eyes that tracked their entrance.

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