Free Cover Girls by T. D. Jakes Page B

qualities I look for in managers is just that—that they are able to manage the employees they supervise. And that they, with decisiveness, be able to determine that an employee is unmanageable, whereupon the manager quickly takes steps to dismiss him or her.”
    There were lots of things Tonya could have said to Mrs. Judson. Things about compassion and about patience, not to mention that she was just a team leader with no authority, not a supervisor.
    As though she’d read Tonya’s thoughts, Mrs. Judson had gone on. “Of course, I know, Tonya, that you are not yet a manager, but I’ve observed your willingness to work long hours, to tackle difficult assignments, even to get along with difficult people. But this situation with Michelle must come to some sort of resolution. Quickly. I’m not prepared to make a decision this afternoon in the emotion of this situation, but I think we should meet Monday morning before our usual staff meeting.”
    I can do all things through Christ, which strengthens me.
Tonya pushed the glass door of the office building and stepped inside. She spoke to the security guards like she always did as she walked to the elevator and pushed the button.
    All weekend Tonya had relived what happened in the office. She tried to figure it out and explain it to herself.
    One second Michelle had been smelling the flowers. She was smiling, even smiling at Tonya—something that almost never happened. Michelle had opened the card and read. She actually seemed to be glowing. Tonya was sure Michelle was glowing. Finally, she’d thought, something had broken through Michelle’s hard shell.
    None of the books or tapes she had given Michelle had helped—and Tonya had only given Michelle gifts and books that had actually helped her dig herself out of her
own
situations. The gifts only seemed to make Michelle angry.
    But the flowers and the card had seemed to be working.
Thank You, God,
she had whispered to herself. She was happy she had been obedient and had bought the flowers. She’d leaned forward in her seat, enthralled by the enjoyment that Michelle’s happiness brought her.
    Just as soon as Tonya had relaxed, though, Michelle frowned. And then Michelle was in her face, waving the card at her. Michelle was yelling, shouting and carrying on, and she was so dangerously close Tonya could feel the other woman’s breath on her chin. Michelle was yelling something at Tonya about minding her own damned business, something about being “holier than thou” and about
kicking
something even if she was in an office.
    The elevator door opened. She was glad the car was empty and that there were twenty-four floors to her office. She stepped inside. Normally the slow-moving elevator irritated her. Today she was grateful for the time. Maybe she would have it all figured out by the twenty-fourth floor. Right.
    Cinnamon cappuccino. That’s what she had smelled on Michelle’s breath. Tonya felt her mind wandering again. What was happening had to be a nightmare. Michelle hadn’t really yelled at her in front of everyone in the office. Mrs. Judson hadn’t really stood in her doorway watching the whole thing. It had to be a dream.
    Only it wasn’t a dream.
    Michelle had pushed up on her so close—hands on her hips, nails flicking in Tonya’s face, jumping up and down, screaming like a crazy woman—and she had seemed to be trying to move even closer. It was fighting language. Fight-or-flight language. Either you were going to run from the yelling or you were going to stand and fight. Tonya knew Michelle had expected her to run.
    That was the thing about being saved. It was the thing about being labeled. People didn’t know who you were—or who you had been, for that matter. Some people seemed to think that her choice to live in peace and to minimize confrontation came from fear.
    What Michelle didn’t know was that there was a day—a day not long ago—when Tonya would have been more than happy to go to fist city