Page 33 of The Fire We Make

Anger. Shame. Fatigue. Fear.

Joy closed her eyes and tilted her head up to the early morning sun, tempted to walk back to the train.

With a cleansing breath, she put everything back in her bag and stood.

You’re okay, Joy. Just be… normal.

She chanted to herself as she made her way into the high rise office building. Head high, shoulders back and a model walk that aligned with her long frame, Joy strutted to the front desk, letting the click of her heels urge her on.

“Welcome to King, Kincaid, and Associates. Do you have an appointment?” The pretty light skinned woman at the desk greeted Joy with a bright smile.

She smiled back and answered. “My name is Joy Thibodeaux. I’m the new junior associate starting today.”

The woman’s smile widened in recognition as she stood to shake Joy’s hand. “Ah yes. Give me one moment and I’ll get the junior partner down here.” Joy nodded and waited patiently as the woman picked up the phone.

“He’s in a meeting, Lisa. I’ll take care of her,” a woman spoke behind Joy.

She turned, coming face to face with a strikingly beautiful dark skinned woman.

“April King. Head of PR,” she introduced herself with an outstretched hand.

Joy took it, mentally referencing the information she learned from the firm’s website.

“Adonis King Senior’s daughter right?” Joy asked, though already knowing the answer. All of the King children held high ranking positions in the firm with the exception of one. Adonis King the Second was a Junior Partner and likely who she was supposed to be meeting with. Jrue King was the Political Liaison. August King was Chief Financial Officer and his twin, April, was Director of Public Relations. There was no public information on the youngest though it was known they had another sibling.

“The one and only,” April beamed, flipping her silky pressed hair over her shoulder. “Since you were assigned to King cases, you’ll be under my oldest brother’s purview. I’ll take you around to meet everyone and get all of your materials and by then he should be done.”

“What’s the difference between King and Kincaid cases?” Joy wondered aloud.

“The Kings specialize in criminal law. Specifically, criminal defense. The Kincaid’s take the civil cases. Mostly entertainment, and contract and family disputes. Associates are assigned to a sector based on your experience and interview,” April explained. “Unless you’d like to grab a coffee, I can take you up now.”

Shaking her head Joy replied, “Nope, I’m good. We can get started.”

“Perfect!” April clapped spinning on her heels making her flawless silk press whip through the air and then motion in the direction of the elevators.

Joy strutted behind April, subconsciously noting each exit and window they passed. She took notice of the beautiful Afro-Centric art adorning the walls along with photos of what looked like the King and Kincaid families from all three generations posing with an assortment of politicians and celebrities.

Pausing, Joy admired the photos, noting how the quality changed from the firm’s inception in the 60s to now. With each photo, the growth was illustrated. Each generation pictured was Black as hell and richer than the last.

April came to stand next to her, gazing up at the photos as well. “This place is a family affair and rich in history,” she said. “My grandfather Zachariah and his best friend Christopher Kincaid founded this place together after none of the white firms would hire them. We’re one of the only Black owned and operated firms still standing that were established during that time. They both handed the reins over to their sons when they retired who then will pass it on to their sons when they retire,” she explained.

That’s what the fuck I’m talking about. Black generational wealth! Byron’s voice cheered in her head, making her suppress a laugh.

Joy nodded in acknowledgment of the new information. “That’s very cool. The history is on the website but it’s so much more impactful seeing it personified.”

April smiled and nodded. “We take a lot of pride in the legacy of our families and our business.”

They rounded the corner to the IT manager’s office where Joy received her badge, company issued laptop, and the passwords to all of the online portals and databases.

Afterwards, they entered the elevator. April pushed the button for the second to highest floor. The two rode in silence, neither bothering to initiate small talk.

Joy had never been good at it. Every conversation served a purpose in her upbringing and words were a currency that she didn’t waste.

“And here are the rest of the King associates,” April said once they’d entered the large top level. Around the perimeter of the room were a ring of frosted glass covered offices while the center held copy machines, long tables for collaboration, and large desktop computers.

All of the associates who weren’t busy exited their offices to greet Joy. She pasted on her warmest, most inviting smile, accepting the welcomes warmly.

“I’m Stephanie Collins,” the next woman stepped up with a limp hand extended. Joy had to fight back a grimace. The sickeningly sweet, faux posh persona the woman before her put on was nauseating.