Chapter 7

**Amelia**

The man’s smile faulters and he gives me a confused look. “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?”

How can I tell a complete stranger that he looks like a man from my dream who sometimes shows up as my lover? He’ll think I’ve lost my mind.

“No. I’m sorry you looked like someone I know. Sorry about running into you. Bye!” I rush off and keep my head low hoping he will forget all about this.

I curse myself for being so stupid until I reach work and then try to push it out of my mind so that I can focus on the piles of cases I need to read through today.

“Good morning, Miss Amelia!” Samay our security guy says as I walk toward the employee scanners.

“Morning! How’s your wife feeling?” I ask as I pass.

“Much better, that soup you made her help.” He says with a warm smile.

“I’m so glad. Tell her I say hello!”

“Of course! Have a good day!”

“You too!” I wave to him and head toward the elevators.

I catch it just as it’s about to close and get a few dirty looks from the people already inside. The group of us ride up silently while I swear I can feel every eye drilling holes into the back of my head. Thankfully most of them get off long before my floor until there is only me and another person standing in the back corner. The metal of the elevator wall makes it hard for me to make out his face, but he’s wearing a suit.

“Elevators are always awkward.” He says suddenly.
I jump a little not expecting him to start talking to me.

“Uh yeah I guess so.” I stutter out.

My neck starts to heat up as my anxiety grows. I am not good with small talk, and this feels like it’s moving in that direction.

“I don’t like closed spaces but I’m not in the right shape to be walking up twenty flights of stairs.” He says with a laugh.

I let out a weak one of my own but can’t think of anything else to say in reply.

“Do you work here?” he asks next.

Shoot. It’s probably not a good idea to tell a stranger in an elevator anything personal about myself, but if he stays on the elevator long enough, he’ll see where I work anyway.

“I work at Bentley and Markson Law Firm.” I finally say.

“Really? Are you a lawyer?” He asks next.

I have yet to turn and look at him and he hasn’t bothered to move closer, so I can’t see him, but he doesn’t sound creepy.

“Yes.” Is all I say.

“I suppose I should have guessed that by the way you’re dressed, but I don’t like to assume things.” He says. “Are you one of those lawyers that represents criminals who claim to be innocent?”

I’m sorry, what?
That has me turning to look at him and when I see his face my breath catches. How is this possible? He is the other man who is always in my weird dreams. Except he looks a lot more like the first time I saw him. He has short dark hair and the same deep colored eyes.

“Well, are you?” His voice sounds more accusatory now and it’s enough to make me snap back to reality.

“No. We aren’t part of criminal law. Well in that sense. We handle all sorts of cases ranging frm land disputes to unfair employee treatment.” I explain.

He looks me over and I hold my breath wondering what he thinks of me.

“In that case, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Alexander.” He finally moves away from the wall and holds his hand out to me. “I represent the Indian Reserve Preservation Foundation.”

Is he the client we’re meeting today?

With this new information I look him over just as critically as he did me. “You don’t look like what I expected.” I admit.

He smiles. “It’s common knowledge that to get what you want you have to make others feel more comfortable. Our foundation thought the fact that my complexion mirrors more my mother then your firm would treat this as a more serious matter. We want to avoid any potential prejudice.”

I’m shocked by his harsh words, but I can understand his caution.

“I can assure you that no one in our office shows any form of prejudice. You can feel comfortable knowing that doesn’t come into play regarding your case.”

He laughs but it’s not the playful one he used a little while ago. “Please, it’s always a factor.”

Okay now I’m getting mad. “I’m sorry you feel that way, so I would understand if you feel the need to seek help elsewhere.”
Thankfully the elevator arrives, and I give him a tight smile. “It was nice to meet you. I can have my assistant send your case to any firm of your choosing. Have a nice day.”

I turn on my heels and walk away with my head held high, but I’m a mess inside. People assume that because I have lighter skin that I am so different from them, but they are doing what they think others do to them. They assume they know me by simply looking at me. What they don’t know is that my mother is Puerto Rican and the reason I’m so light skinned is because of my father. He comes from an all-white family in London. A family that objected to him marrying a Latin woman and has never spoken or met me because of it. I know far more people have worse situations of racism than I will ever have, but these sorts of assumptions always bother me.

My mother has faced so many moments of prejudice that I purposely became a lawyer to help people who face the same situations. No one deserves to be treated unfairly because of their race, which is why that guy’s comments hurt so much. I won’t’ have someone who makes assumptions about me as a client. If they want our help because of this sort of treatment, then why would I represent them if they are just like the people they are going up against. It makes no sense.

“Amelia! Hey what’s wrong?” Harper, my coworker and friend asks.

“Just some jerk in the elevator. Actually, he was the client we were meant to meet today.” I drop onto my chair and turn it to face her.

“He was a jerk? Why?” She takes a bite of her twizzler and blinks at me expectantly.

Harper is like me in that she’s mixed race. Her mother is African American, and her father is Chinese. In fact, most of the lawyers that work here have a similar background.

“He said that the foundation sent him because he looks the most race acceptable, so we wouldn’t ignore his case because of our racial assumptions.” I tell her.

She whistles. “What did you say?”

“That we can send his case to someone else if he’s worried about racial bias.”

She laughs. “If only he knew.”

Yeah.

“Anyway, what happened last night? Tell me everything.” She scoots closer and glances around to make sure no one is listening.

Since most of our peers are in court today, I think we’re safe.

“Okay, so he came with his parents of course and they nearly had a heart attack when they saw the spread my mom made. They had never tried most of the stuff on that table but once they tasted it they were sold. I’m still shocked they even agreed to this given how traditional the culture is.”

Her father had a friend that wanted to arrange a marriage for his son and asked to meet Harper. They made sure to explain that Harper wasn’t full Chinese because that can be an issue sometimes, but they still wanted to meet her. Harper and the guy had spoken through video chat a few times and definitely had chemistry so meeting the parents was the next step.

“So what else happened?” I ask.

“They loved me. I was nervous at the beginning because they weren’t saying much, but as soon as they tasted my mom’s food they were off. They also like the idea of combining our cultures for the wedding.” She smiles happily. “I can’t believe how well it went.”

“And Jun?”

She smiles shyly and her cheeks turn slightly pink. “He’s so sweet Amelia. He says the nicest things and is amazing! I don’t think I would have met a guy like him on my own.”

When she said she was going to have an arranged marriage I was skeptical, but she’s looked so happy since the moment she found out. I’m happy for her, and have considered having her dad fix me up as well.

“Amelia?” The sound of my boss’s voice has me on my feet in an instant.

“Yes Mr. Markson?”

“My office please.” He turns and starts to walk away.

Harper cringes. “Good luck.”

I’m going to need it after the stunt I pulled in the elevator which I’m sure is why he wants to talk to me. Curse my big mouth!