Not in My Backyard, Bitch - Guest Post: Cynthia
“She won’t take no for an answer! “
Fuck. We have a major client due any minute for a pitch and that crazy dyke is pitching a hissy in reception. “Fine.” I call Matthew.
“Matt, Kinney’s Kunt is here again. You want to walk her back here to me? We need her out of sight before Wagonlit gets here. Oh,” I add as an afterthought, “stick around. You can walk her back out again.”
“Okay, Cyn,” he answers then disconnects. Matt looks like a pro tackle but is one of our best graphics people. His size lets him double as “security” when we need it, which is only with these assholes Kinney has inflicted on us. I take a deep breath to calm myself then think, fuck it, I don’t want to be calm, I want to be as pissed off as I am.
“Here you go, boss lady,” Matt announces. I snort. He only calls me that when he’s playing bouncer. He’s a multi tasker, alright.
“Take a seat, Lindsay.” I’m curt. She takes the seat opposite me and I notice that she’s puffier, blotchier than she usually looks. Must be the temper tantrum she just threw. “I don’t have time for this shit. You have exactly five minutes to tell me why I shouldn’t take out an order of protection.” She starts to sniffle a bit. “And don’t cry. Women who cry to get what they want piss me off and give the rest of us one more thing to overcome. You can skip the needy baby card as well. The meter is now running.” I sit back and wait.
“Cynthia,” she starts then stops, apparently thrown by what I’ve just said.
“You wouldn’t!” Her head snaps up, she sits a little straighter. Yup, act. “You wouldn’t dare! Brian would never allow-“
“Brian isn’t here,” I state the obvious for the oblivious. “If he were, I doubt he’d like your constant badgering of our staff.”
“You don’t speak for him!”
“No, but I speak for Kinnetic Pittsburgh.” I lean forward. “Look, Lindsay, I don’t know what it is you hope to accomplish by constantly badgering us. If it’s not you, it’s Melanie or Michael. Whatever your cause is” access to Brian’s checking account comes to mind “you’re not helping it.”
“I need to talk to Brian, he’d understand.”
“Well you know where he is. For now.” Her eyes widen at that. “You sent Michael up there to confront him. That didn’t get very far, did it?”
“We’ll go up again!” There’s a flicker of defiance in her eyes. Crazy bitch just might. I shrug.
“Fine. I can’t stop you, Kinnetic New York’s address is a matter of public record. I should warn you though, Adam has a quick trigger finger.”
“Adam?” She’s puzzled.
“Brian’s personal Gotham pit bull. He’s not easily bullied and tends to call for backup when he gets annoyed.” Well that much isn’t true. That I’ve heard. Though I so wish I was there to see him call Justin a messenger. When Brian told me that one, my Matcha flew out my nose. Damn, I wish I was up there more often, that must be one show.
“Cynthia,” Lindsay’s tone softens. “I know you don’t have a child…yet.” She smiles coyly. Yet another of Kinney’s brain damaged “friends,” she has already forgotten what I told her not two minutes ago.
“Look, I don’t have time and it’s not my bank account you’re trying to tap. Brian is, however, not only my employer but also my friend. Therefore, as you are the mother of his son, I’m going to give you some advice.” She stands, the soft sobbing wreck replaced by one pissed off dyke. “Knock this shit off. Don’t bother us here, don’t bother them there. Restraining orders don’t look good on a resume. Time’s up. Guido?” On cue the door opens and Matt hulks his bulk in.
“Time to go, miss,” his deep bass rumbles. We both fight our smirks because a 6’4” dark black guy with two foot long dreads has no business being called Guido.
He returns a minute later. “Boards are up, travel boys are in the holding pen and the blonde bitch is on the street. ‘Guido?’” He shakes his head, beaded dreads swaying.
“I was in a ‘Godfather’ mood,” I tell him as I shrug into my suit jacket. “Okay, I’m off.” He accompanies me to our conference room before heading back to his department.
“Oh, boss lady?” I turn. “Next time, I want to be ‘Albert,’ okay? Like in ‘Birdcage.’” he smirks and flips his hair back as he rounds a corner and disappears.
Christ. I have too many gay men in my life.
Nah.