"I deserve this promotion." Walter Yates raised his hands high above his head, frustration and fear mingling with the sweat on his furrowed brow as Nita Floyd pressed him further, "Fifteen years Mr. Yates, I started fresh out of undergrad, suffered through the agonizing labor and delivery of two big headed children, divorced one sorry bastard only to bury another, earned a MBA, and kept your lily white ass out of hot water with the IRS, and this is how you repay me?"

Nita Floyd was angry. At twenty one, she had been poised to take on the world. Outstanding letters of recommendation followed her from Fisk University. Impressive interviews in New York, Chicago, Atlanta, and even Los Angeles boosted her confidence but she chose an entry level position at local company in the Carolinas. Her business acumen was far too advanced for her introduction into Corporate America but she had a plan. Learn a business from the ground up, so by the time she was thirty - five, VP, could follow her name, retirement would be ten years away, and her bank account would never know the meaning of in the red again.

Life had other plans.

The advisory position she had expected turned into an administrative role which lasted for two years. She filed papers, organized soft copy files on shared drives, and ordered more lunches from the expensive deli that melted brie on every sandwich on the menu. When the first promotion came five years into her employment, it was only a step up to Executive Admin. One year and a maternity leave later, she came back to a grueling assignment as managerial babysitter, netting her the first patch of gray hair and a long overdue stint in marital counseling. Another maternity leave, divorce filing, and two years later, finally Nita was welcomed as the newest advisor at Peachtree and Ware Consultants. She was eight years behind schedule and more than a little disenchanted.

Thankfully Walter Yates, a seasoned member of the firm took her under his wing. He shared his Ivy League knowledge and his stash of scotch with Nita, "I'm grooming you for greatness," He would offer daily as he puffed a cloud of cigar smoke in her face. She believed him, chalking up the demise of her second marriage and her soon to be ex-husband's untimely death as a casualty of war. She had her son and daughter, even though they didn't care for her constant trips out of town, and her late hours at the office. Nita had accomplished something; she was a building a legacy for them, until Mr. Yates promises turned into only empty words and more years passed. Fifteen years with one organization and a five figure salary were all Nita Floyd had to show.

"Nita, I'm not disagreeing with you," He took a breath and a sip from the glass on his desk, "Things change."

She knew exactly what things had changed; Russell Ware Jr. and his inability to maintain a job outside of his daddy's shadow.

The qualifications for the position of Junior Associate read as if it were directly drafted from her resume. She had interviewed with Russell Ware Sr. and Linda Peachtree directly. She left the conference room after two hours, with the managing partners singing her praises. Then later the same evening the local news affiliate flashed Russ Jr's mugshot on the screen and Nita knew her hopes for advancement had just been flushed down the toilet. The five foot nine hooligan arrived in the office the following day freshly appareled in his new Jos A. Bank's wardrobe.

"Tell the truth Mr. Yates, no matter how hard I work, I'll always be the pleasantly plump black woman undeserving of any opportunities beyond pouring someone a cup of coffee while bowing my head and shuffling my feet."

Mr. Yates finally reached his breaking point and jumped from his seat, "Enough with the pity party Nita," His eyes were bright and full of fury, "You're too smart to insinuate racism, sexism, and sizism have anything to do...fuck..." She couldn't help but laugh when the uncharacteristic curse left the old man's lips, "Ware's botox addict wife probably made him give their ungrateful child the job, he's an idiot, you're a star." She knew where his speech was headed, "It's not fair, outshine him, show them who really deserves the job."

Nita realized her mentor was just as helpless as her. When his superiors marched in the office and informed him who he would hire, he couldn't open his mouth to share his concerns, or much less ask a question. She could see the disappointment on his face and now she knew her anger had been misplaced, "You're right." She regained her composure and stepped back into the harsh lighting of the cubicle farm where her desk was located. She would give the spoiled brat two weeks. With a population of less than five hundred thousand, Russ Jr. would surely hit on the wrong man's wife, side swipe a judge's car while drunk driving, or just get tired of the pseudo big city feel the powers that be were trying to foster in the area and go away.

A girl could dream and after fifteen years, all Nita Floyd had left were...dreams.