LOVING THE HEAD MAN Read Online Free

Department, or even to the EEOC.  But how could she prove her allegations?  Although he had pressed against her and touched her inappropriately, and his words made clear that she had better get with the program or else, she still would have to prove it. 
       And the other finalists certainly weren’t going to back her up.  They all laughed it off when they came out of Alan’s office, even though they admitted the encounter was brutal.  Bree was convinced that if she accused a man like him of bad behavior, she’d be on her own, and would more likely be the one chastised and blamed.  She may even be asked to leave the program.  Maybe even sued for defamation of character by the brilliant attorney DeFrame, he seemed like the type. 
       Bree sighed in a loud, anguished release.  She would have to give it time, think her options through carefully, before she made any moves.
       Just as she made up her mind to wait, her cell phone began ringing.  She looked at the Caller ID.  It was her mother.
       “Ricky’s in jail,” her mother said into the phone as soon as Bree said hello.  Fannie Hudson wasn’t predictable when it came to most matters, except when it came to her devotion to Bree’s sorry older brother.
       “He’s in jail again?” Bree asked.  “He just got out.”  She had the phone on speaker, because her mother tended to yell rather than talk.  And because of that Robert, who had no intentions of overhearing her private conversation, heard every word.
       “It’s bad this time, Brianna,” her mother said into the phone.  “Don’t you minimize this. ”
       “I’m not minimizing anything.”
       “He’s the best child I got and you don’t like it so you always bad-mouthing him.”
       Bree rolled her eyes.  Her mother spoke of Ricky as if he was a wonderful, delicate soul, not the lazy, selfish, trifling thug he was.  “What did he do this time?” she decided to ask, refusing to get into it with her mother.
       “It’s bad, baby girl.  It’s bad.” 
       Her mother began crying.  Bree folded one arm and closed her eyes.  What she would give to have this monkey of responsibility off her back.  Her mother, who ran the streets worst than a teenager did, always out partying with Ricky and his friends, getting drunk, smoking weed, sleeping around with every Tom, Dick, and Harry even while Bree’s father was on his dying bed.  And Bree’s five younger siblings, the oldest fifteen, the youngest eight, were the ones who would suffer in the end.  “Just tell me what he’s done this time,” she tried to say patiently, although her bitterness shone through.
       “They say he jumped on Keisha, his baby mama.  But you know Ricky wouldn’t jump on no girl.  She just lying because he wouldn’t let her dump them kids on him so she can party with her friends and hang out with her new man.  So now she wanna claim he beat her.”
       “Okay, well, you weren’t there and neither was I,” Bree said, “so we can’t say what he did or didn’t do.”
       “I can say it!” her mother shot back, causing her voice to ring out even louder over the speaker.  “Don’t you dare tell me what I can’t say.   That’s my child and them racist police ain’t taking him away from me again. Not again!”  And the crying started up again.
       “Ma, I gotta go,” Bree said, long ready to end this painful call.  “There’s nothing I can do about it, anyway.  Ricky gets himself into these stupid situations, he’s the one who has to get himself out of them.  There’s nothing I can do.”
       “Ain’t nothing you can do?” her mother yelled.  “There’s plenty you can do!”
       Bree frowned.  “Like what?”
       “You a lawyer, ain’t you?  You just graduated law school, didn’t you?  Get your ass back here to