Silver Currents of Change

Chapter 4

An hour after leaving his estate, Harvey Wilson was in his office, sitting in his comfortable chair, at his huge 1890s Scottish Partners antique desk. When just one loud knock sounded against his half-open door, it signaled to him who needed his attention. A single knock was all he ever got from Laura Wilson before his beautiful sister-in-law poked her head inside.

"Got a few minutes?"

"Always, for you."

Laura never asked for his time unless she had something on her mind she felt he really needed to be brought in on. She was his second-in-command, and whenever he was away from Wilson Publishing, he relied on her to run everything, which she did just as well as he could, if not better.

"Whatcha' got?"

"More on Chez Delish."

"More rumors?" Looking at her through fake glasses, he scratched his mustache, then rubbed his freshly groomed beard.

"Hey, the disguise looks great. Much better than it did on Sunday. I had to look twice to be sure you were you."

"Thanks. I groomed it a little, but it still itches. I had a really interesting encounter after I left you and my brother. I helped some college kids. Their car broke down on the side of the highway, and I think Hairy Wilson scared them. So. I groomed it a little."

"Did they make you?" Laura laughed.

"No. But I'm more than ready for a real shave, so I'm ready for our project to be over. What are our very racist white supremacist friends doing now?"

"They're not just refusing to hire blacks, they're discriminating against their black patrons. My cousin Sheila and her boyfriend went there last night and the restaurant refused to seat them. Just flat out ignored them for a whole hour while they seated other customers."

"Let me guess. White customers."

"Yeah. A few Asians too. You know Sheila. She has dark brown skin, doesn't look anything like me. Wears her hair in dreads."

"No mistaking her for another nationality."

"Nope. And her boyfriend looks a lot like your buddy, Ash. He's tall, dark, handsome, sports the same big afro. Has a fondness for dashikis, just like Ash."

"So they think the treatment they got was definitely based on them being and looking black."

"Definitely. Sheila said seats were clearly available. That place is so busy all the time; they stopped requiring or even allowing reservations. So they can't say the ones they seated had reservations."

"Let's see. The last rumor we heard, patrons said when they did get in, the food they got looked used, like heated-over versions of something other customers had left on their plates. And if it's true, that means health-code violations too, all in the name of racism."

"Maybe they just decided to refuse to let black people in," she said. "Or maybe they got a whiff of us snooping around and decided to get rid of black customers altogether."

"Well, we'll be there tonight to observe. Think you could ask Sheila and her boyfriend to try again? Tonight?"

"Good idea. I'm sure she'll do it ... and you and I will be right there to see what happens."

"They'll never know you're black, so we shouldn't have any trouble getting in."

"Right." She tugged at several strands of her long and silky dark-brown curls. "I'm sure I'll get a pass. As usual."

"After I get the Atlanta interview in my rearview mirror, we'll start strategizing on our final plan of attack, and they'll be sorry. Maybe even out of business. Maybe we'll buy that place and then sell it to some black restaurateur."