“Perhaps we should explain the basic controls,” Whitman said, his voice thick with condescension. “I know these things can be quite complicated for certain people.”
Sterling nodded in mock sympathy.
“We wouldn’t want any accidents. Safety first, especially when dealing with newcomers to our elevated circles.”
Sasha’s fingers gripped the portfolios so tightly her knuckles turned white. The young woman’s chest rose and fell with quick, angry breaths as she watched these wealthy men openly mock her mentor.
“I mean, really,” another owner chimed in, emboldened by the audience’s reaction. “We should be thanked for even considering this arrangement. Some people don’t know their proper place these days.”
A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd. Several phones were raised, their owners eager to capture what they assumed would be a humiliating moment for the Black CEO who had dared to dream of joining their exclusive ranks.
Alicia slowly turned to face the group, her movements deliberate and controlled. The morning sun caught her face, highlighting the quiet dignity in her features.
She had spent decades in boardrooms and business meetings where she was the only person of color, the only woman, the only one who had climbed up from poverty instead of inheriting wealth. Each challenge had strengthened her resolve.
Each insult had sharpened her purpose.
“Mr. Sterling,” she said, her voice carrying clearly across the tarmac. “Is this your idea of humor?”
The consortium owner’s smirk faltered slightly at her calm tone. He had expected tears, outrage, or desperate negotiation.
Anything but this composed response.
“Now, Ms. Rhodes,” he said, recovering his arrogant demeanor, “let’s not be overly sensitive. We’re simply trying to make you comfortable.”
“This aircraft is perfectly adequate for someone of your background.”
More snickers rippled through the crowd. A woman in expensive tennis whites whispered something to her companion, both of them glancing at Alicia’s impeccable business suit with obvious disdain.
“My background?” Alicia repeated softly, letting the words hang in the air. “Please, Mr. Sterling, elaborate on what you mean by that.”
The challenge in her voice was subtle but unmistakable. Sterling shifted uncomfortably, aware that the crowd was now watching him as much as they were watching her.
“Well, you know,” he blustered, “your people aren’t exactly known for... I mean, this is a very specialized industry with certain standards.”
“My people?” Alicia’s eyebrow arched slightly.
“Do continue, Mr. Sterling. I’m fascinated by your expertise on my people.”
The silence stretched taut as a wire. Several onlookers lowered their phones, suddenly less eager to document this exchange.
Sterling’s face had turned an interesting shade of red.
“Now see here,” Whitman stepped in, his voice sharp with anger. “If you can’t take a joke, perhaps you don’t belong in this business at all.”
“We’re doing you a favor even considering this deal.”
Alicia reached into her jacket pocket and withdrew her phone. Her movements were unhurried, almost casual, but there was nothing casual about the steel in her voice when she spoke again.
“A favor,” she said, her thumb hovering over the phone’s screen. “Is that what you call this display of bigotry? This carefully planned humiliation?”
“Now wait just a minute,” Sterling started, but Alicia held up her hand, silencing him with the gesture.
“No, Mr. Sterling. You’ve had your moment of amusement. Now I’ll have mine.”
She pressed a number on her speed dial, putting the call on speaker.
“Marcus, this is Alicia Rhodes. I need you to execute termination clause seven immediately on the consortium deal.”
“Yes, the full $770 million. And Marcus, make sure the press release mentions exactly why we’re walking away.”
The silence on the tarmac was absolute now. Sterling’s face had gone from red to pale, and Whitman seemed to be choking on his own tongue.
The other owners stood frozen, their earlier smugness evaporating as they realized what was happening.