Page 100 of Token

Should it survive?

Her conversation with Joseph Russo was like the shifting of tectonic plates and she was still reeling from the ongoing aftershocks. What he’d asked her to do was far more egregious than the things she did for her clients. At least, that was what she tried to convince herself, but the more she thought about the differences, the more blurred the lines became. Although one was illegal and the other was not, the variegated shadows of gray between the two didn’t cast her methods in a good light.

Once upon a time, she’d told herself the ends justified the means. That, technically, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and no one was getting hurt. And while that might still be the truth in a narrow vision and scope, what effect was it having on society as a whole? Why not let the companies take their lumps and learn from their mistakes the hard way, instead of her coming in and cushioning the fall? But more than anything, she didn’t want Token to be seen the way the likes of Joseph Russo saw it. As an agency so bereft of morals it would knowingly take the side of a liar and help manufacture evidence against an innocent victim—and a Black woman at that. It was the exact opposite of their mission statement and goal.

Maybe a pause in business wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would give her time to think things over and decide the best way forward. This was something she’d have to discuss with Aurora, but her gut was telling her it was time to make some changes in the kind of services the agency offered.

And as if that wasn’t weighing enough on her mind, Nate was never far from her thoughts. She was still smarting from the scholarship revelation and couldn’t quite pinpoint why it was hitting her so hard. Why it felt more like a betrayal than what most people would see as a gesture of lottery-winning proportions.

Legs stretched out on her couch, Kennedy opened the social media app on her phone. She’d been following the #HackVillains hashtag, otherwise known asYou About to Lose Your Job. Her story hit the national news, only to be quickly supplanted by the email of a top sports agent whose client—an NFL player—had recently come out as gay. The use of the F word had been shocking enough, but when the agent had blamed his public disclosure on the growing permissiveness of society, he’d all but guaranteed that not only would his remarks elicit a swift and furious backlash, he wouldn’t have a job by the morning. He was fired by the agency within hours of the first report.

Then she saw it, the breaking news headline as big and bold as ever.

ECO APPAREL DISMISSES EXECUTIVES OVER EMAIL LEAK—SAHARA: “MY FRIEND DIDN’T DESERVE THIS.”

Kennedy’s heart thumped and her breath suspended.

Sahara? What did she say?

After hitting several paywalls, she finally found an article without one containing her friend’s full response to the firings.

Kennedy is a dear friend and she didn’t deserve this. No one deserves to be talked about like that. What’s even more upsetting is that I know these men. I worked with them, and I had no idea they held these kinds of views. Kennedy worked with them, and I witnessed their interactions, and she was always a consummate professional. She’s incredibly smart, and to quote an earlier statement from someone who knows her better than I do, she’s as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. She didn’t ask for any of this. Speaking as her friend, I’m asking the media to please respect her privacy at this time.

Pressing a palm to her chest, Kennedy did her utmost to stave off the tears—she hadn’t yet removed her mascara and eyeliner, and didn’t know whether they would hold up under a drizzle of tears, much less a storm—as she was overcome by emotions. She blinked rapidly and gave a tearless sniff. When she’d first met Sahara, she’d immediately picked up on her overall goodness and decency. In the years that followed, Kennedy was able to experience her unflinching loyalty firsthand.

Not wasting another second, Kennedy picked up the phone and called her. As soon as she answered, Kennedy spoke to her from the heart. “You. Are. A. Doll. What did I do to deserve you as my friend?”

“You must have won the friend lottery.”

“Well, if I don’t say this often enough, I want you to know how much I love and adore you.”

“Aww,” Sahara crooned. “I love and adore you too, sweets. Now you’re going to make me cry.”

Kennedy gave a hiccuping laugh. After days of her stomach being twisted in a knot, she felt it loosening. “Don’t you dare cry or you’ll turn me into a spigot.”

“Spigot?Is that the thesaurus word of the day?” her friend teased.

Kennedy laughed. “How to prove you know me without saying you know me.” Her love of words—she was a big reader, after all—wasn’t a secret to all those who knew her.

“Seriously, that man of yours is something else. Makes me think my type meter is broken. Maybe I need someone like him, you know, someone who worships the ground I walk on. Shouldn’t you be showing him your appreciation right now?” she teased with a suggestivewaggling of the browtone to her voice.

Wait! What?“Are you talking about Nate?”

Sahara huffed in amusement. “How many men do you have? Unless you’re sexing it up with another tech hottie, and let’s face it—another one doesn’t exist. Of course I mean Nate.” She paused. “You have seen his statement, haven’t you?”

A breath of air rushed past her lips. “No. I didn’t know he put one out.”

At her dazed admission, her friend chortled. “Who did you think I was talking about when I said I was quoting an earlier statement?”

Sahara was ten steps ahead of her. Kennedy scrambled from the couch to grab her laptop from the desk in the corner of the kitchen. Placing it on the counter, she typed in his name, and an article posted an hour ago popped up first on the search results.

Her breathless “I found it” could only be attributed to anticipation and nerves.

“I was going to send you the link but never mind,” Sahara replied.

A quick tap on the link and the article came up. Her eyes zoomed straight to the block of text.

In the eleven years I’ve known Kennedy Mitchell, she’s always believed in the goodness and decency of people. Whether her faith was misguided or not is yet to be determined. However, my faith in her is unequivocal. She is talented, ambitious, intelligent, and as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. The men who maligned her aren’t fit to kiss the ground she walks on. And that’s as much oxygen as I’m going to waste on them.

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