Dirty Dawg: The Indian Intern Ch. 03

"Yeah?"

"PLEEEEEASE MY FRIEND, I'LL DO ANYTHING; PLEASE FORGIVE ME!! THIS SO-SO VERY HARD TO EXPERIENCE!! PLEASE, I HAVE MORE MONEY TO GIVE YOU-RECONSIDER THINGS!!" Laila was practically screaming into the other end of the phone.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I hung up in her face.

"WE'LL GIVE UP THE MONEY; PLEEEEASE DON'T GO ANY FURTHER MY FRIEND!! THIS IS TOO MUCH, OVERKILL!! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS HORRIBLE THING, MY FRIEND!!" I answered thirty minutes later as a decadent slice of strawberry cheesecake was being placed in front of me.

"Hey, I didn't ask for anything; you and those asshole lawyers ain't getting me on no fucking extortion charges, bitch."

"MY FRIEND, PLEASE RECONSIDER!!"

"Cut the bullshit, fake coolie accent, Laila." I'd had enough of her trying to bait me. She wasn't fooling anyone now that I knew what she really sounded like. There was a long pregnant pause on the phone.

"Well, fuck that noise, then. Did you really have to go there even after you got me nicked for pinching your phone? I have an I-Phone for every day of the fucking week, my friend." She was still sniffling a bit obviously wiping tears away as she spoke.

"Yeah, but you still had mine."

"You know you fucking-CHUCKED IT IN MY PURSE, YOU BLACK BASTARD!!" I immediately heard some muffled talking on the other end of the line as Laila was likely admonished for going off script.

"Rude, much?"

I hung up again, going on to enjoy the lush dessert in front of me. I switched off my phone to infuriate Laila, Mr. Kumar and her lawyers before going over to my Uncle Billy's house. He wasn't home, at the hospital. Auntie Yvonne informed me that he was at the hospital for tests but that she didn't know what they would do about the costs for his treatment beyond that. Her own insurance was balking at covering the charges. She also related to me the fact that my uncle was upset with her for telling his business, due to a number of donations that had been made by friends and concerned associates following the party. There was no doubt, no question of her love and loyalty for the man, but his stubborn pride wouldn't let her even try saving him. I sat with her for a minute listening as she vented before telling her that I'd have something worked out soon. My phone was already ringing the minute I switched it on leaving Uncle Billy's home.

"Speak."

"You are taking the situation too far, very, very far young man; we should like to offer a substantial amount of the one hundred grand to cease these hostilities." It was Mr. Kumar.

"Your niece stole my phone, man; the both of you tricked me into training her for a promotion I was never going to receive and then fired my ass. Hey Kumar; dude, you motherfuckers blackballed me to potential employers too and that was fucked up." I worked at keeping my emotion in check, hearing the man on the other end of the line bristling.

"YOU ARE THE WRONG-YOU ARE DOING VERY NASTY THINGS IN THE OFFICE WITH MY LAILA!! THAT IS VERY, VERY WRONG INDEED!!" There was some movement on the other side of the line suggesting they were still trying to record anything they could use in court.

"You black balled me, Mr. Kumar; what am I supposed to do about work, man. That's my livelihood, dude and lost health insurance, too. We both know Laila's a grown woman who's capable of making her own decisions and yeah, we fucked. I told the police that shit and they say it's got nothing to do with her stealing my phone."

"YOU-YOU ARE THE BLACK NIG-!!" The line suddenly went dead. I shrugged walking further down the block from my uncle's house before picking up again.

"What?"

"It's Laila, I'm not in the office anymore and nobody's taping this conversation." It sounded like she was walking down the street. I could hear ambient street chatter and a strong breeze in the distance.

"Good, you can let those shady assholes know I was taping the shit, too."

"Fairs fair you bastard; how could you do that to me?"

"You stole my phone."

"I didn't steal your fucking phone; I think I have already said this very fact. I thought you were nice, and I enjoyed that very, big dick of yours, too. I don't appreciate being humiliated and in such a public manner as well."

"Ah, you'll probably get a slap on the wrist in court."

"I'm not talking about the phone; I'm referring to the cheeky stunt you pulled in the office this morning, you bastard." I didn't know what she was talking about but thought it wise to bluff.

"Whatever."

"Dismissive much; don't pretend it wasn't all you'd hoped for and more, lover. You wanted my big bum quite feverishly if I do recall, correctly?"

"You got what you wanted, too. Didn't you throw your fucking panties over into my partition that night, Laila?"

"I absolutely didn't want to wait anymore; I'm sure you can appreciate how difficult it is getting a half decent shag here in the states, right my friend? Besides, you were already vetted, and that big, delicious dick was just too perfect for my needs."

I believed she wasn't still among her attorneys at that point.

"Yeah, I know bitch." I replied dismissively hoping she would clue me on to the supposed incident in the office without me asking directly.

"You felt the need to share it with the office; wanting to shame me, expose me as some sort of harlot, right? That what you were on about, my friend? I must admit feeling a mounting humiliation as everyone stared over their fucking partitions at my goddamn face! Yet, that embarrassment is going to cost your little group of friends when we "reconfigure the office" like the security team this afternoon!! Yes, while I may not know who your contact was on the security team, we BURNED THE FOREST by TERMINATING ALL of THOSE MOUTH BREATHERS!!" Her rage was palpable, but I still didn't know what she was talking about, fully.

"Sure, right." I replied noncommittally.

"So, what a decent friend you are turning out to be; I'm certain Mike would not appreciate a termination on your part. Especially if informed along with your other associates in the office, my friend." The intensity in her voice was palpable.

"Yeah, so?"

"Who was it; who was your compatriot in the security department? Who passed you the desk cam footage from your workstation, and how did you link it up across the office?" I guess she was tired of playing cat and mouse with me, laying it all out on the table.

"Ah, what does it matter; you fired all of those guys anyways, right bitch?" I wondered if buzzcut guy got fired.

"EVERYONE SAW WHAT WE DID, YOU BLACK DOG!!" Laila lost it revealing the depth of humiliation she suffered when I supposed footage of us hooking up streamed through the office. It was incredibly informative finding that shit out, because for the longest time rumors had floated around the office of hidden surveillance cameras. Laila had unwittingly informed me of the reality of matters adding to my growing arsenal of weapons to be used in negotiations with Mr. Kumar and the office at large.

"Rude much?"

"WAIT DON'T HANG-!!" I hung up in her face again noticing the afternoon sun shown a little brighter as I leaned on a fence glancing up the block finding a familiar face. Micha Le' was approaching wearing what I guessed was some sort of work outfit in the form of a collared t-shirt from the local dollar store. Her luscious thighs and muscular calves were covered in the same jean print jeggings she wore over to my uncle's party almost a week earlier.

"SHIT!" She exclaimed, looking at me like I was stalking her or something.

"Don't get it twisted, I was just visiting my family."

"Right, and don't think you're getting back into my house, either." I just smiled, knowing how fake she really was.

"Whatever."

"Don't try to act cool." Micha Le' had a phone in one hand and a large bag of generic chips in the other, looking me up and down.

"Come here." I said flatly.

"What?"

"Come-here." I said, my tone sounding more like an order. Micha Le' stared back letting her hands drop to her sides giving me this sarcastic glare, but ultimately trudged over beside me turning her back to the fence. I didn't hesitate reaching around behind the pale sister, palming her wide butt. Her face betrayed no emotion as I groped and pinched the closest semi-rounded cheek making her slap at my hand.

"You just wanted to feel on me?"

"Yeah, that's right." Two of my fingers got between her thighs in the pronounced gap between her shapely legs. I rubbed her slit looking for a reaction and getting it when she flushed crimson.

"What, you trying to fuck or something?"

"Keep looking at your phone Micha Le'; eat some chips." I replied slyly deftly sliding my offending hand into the back of her leggings. She was wearing a thong which afforded more access to her snatch. Micha Le' was dripping wet, still complying eating a chip or two intermittently staring at her phone like we were just hanging.

"I'm gonna ask you again; you trying to fuck or what?"

"No."

I abruptly withdrew my hand as she gasped, faux offended. I shrugged in an exaggerated manner earning the bag of barbecue chips that hit me dead in the face. Micha Le' flipped me the bird actually so flustered that she crossed the street dialing up an associate to no doubt "put me on blast" as I chuckled.

*************************************************************************************

"Speak." My phone rang off the hook a few hours later just as I was getting inside the door of my place.

"It's Mike."

"Oh hey, what's up?"

"Serious homes; you pull off that boss move in the office and got the nerve to answer the phone like its another fucking day, huh?" It sounded like he'd been laughing, but something rang false.

"I didn't do that shit, man."

"Come on, it had to be you brother; who else would've had the nerve to do a pimp move like that and you-you already got fired anyway, right?"

"Mike."

"Yeah?"

"Brother, that's some real fucked up shit, man." I'd started recording the minute I picked up.

"Sorry man." He apologized meekly.

"Look, stop calling me up about this shit; we already said we'd meet, so stop screwing around before I report you guys for harassment. I recorded this attempted conversation and just want to say for the record that I never signed any agreement to be covertly monitored by security cameras. Just putting it out there for you legal boys."

I ended the conversation noting mentally that I'd never hung up on somebody this number of times in a single day. I opened my laptop deciding that I'd keep looking for work in case this whole deal went belly up. These assholes kept blowing up my phone and trying to record me since I'd shown up at the police station. Something told me that I had Laila and by proxy, Mr. Kumar by the short hairs. At this point, I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was an email from my former job with an attachment.

"Eh, what's this shit?" The video file opened revealing my desktop from my monitor's point of view.

"Oh, man..." Laila's face filled my laptop screen obviously in a rapturous state. It was obvious she was being stuffed from the back by yours truly. She looked like she was in seventh heaven or something going so far as to lick the screen in a disgusting display of carnality. Some subtitles appeared on the screen as I realized the footage had audio, turning up the feed on my laptop.

"Oh, mujhe bada nigar murga pasand hai; mujhe bhaad mein jao, tum kamabakht maark!! main pooree raat is bade kaale land ka maza lene vaalee hoon!! is kamabakht klab, nigar ladake ke saath mere bakavaas chhed!!"

[Subtitle: Oh I love big nigger cock; fuck me, you fucking mark!! I'm going to enjoy this big black cock all night!! Mess my shit hole up with this fucking club, nigger boy!!]

"Oh, that's what she said." The translation should have made me angry, but whoever she'd obviously pissed off was very thorough.

There were two more clips in additional emails, one apparently from an overhead camera that revealed me humping Laila's huge ass before outright taking her in decidedly kinetic fashion. The second was from the original camera that revealed just how massive the Indian intern's butt was from a side view as I made industrious use of her dusky, olive colored cheeks. I was grateful my face wasn't outright shown and angry at the fact that I'd been fired with the use of unrelated security footage from the episode inside the stalled elevator and parking garage. The security department was definitely in on the whole con game that took me out of my job. The thought of buzzcut guy hovering around me for the duration of the con, incensed me. It was a surgical strike to get me out of the picture and protect Mr. Kumar's trust fund princess niece. They knew she'd been a willing participant from the start. I wondered how he was able to keep his hands from around my throat the morning after.

"Mother-fucker."

I face palmed letting reality smack me right in the face. Uncle Billy would definitely chide me again for failing one of the fundamental lessons of street self. I'd failed to find the yard. Failed to understand exactly what I was dealing with from the moment Mr. Kumar took over the office two years after I'd started working there. The audit I'd performed with the rest of my office buddies was tying up loose ends for an imminent merger that started with his very appearance. Laila was supposed to be a closing of the circle for the incoming group. I'd picked up on that in the conversations I'd had afterwards. I thought about the little gathering I'd attended at the Hilton downtown. My mind wandered to the setup of their little booth. That table had been set like a banquet because those assholes were celebrating. There was one more loose end to tie up and that was Pum, but I doubted the opportunity to close it. There was no doubt Pum stole my phone, but what was there to gain from the action?

*************************************************************************************

"Yeah man, it was all fucked up for her." Darrell didn't have a problem meeting me for a late dinner or diming out the office because he was a temp employee. He tried to get on as a regular employee several times, but Mr. Kumar always denied him. It was safe to say that he harbored no allegiance to a company paying him minimum wage.

"How'd it go down?"

"Just popped up out nowhere when everybody logged in for work that morning; a big flashing email the kind management uses when they announce one of their policy changes or some shit gathering to make their "human contact" quota for the parent company."

"Laila take it well?" We were meeting at this food truck / outside café I was fond of near a community college. It was a nice little setup with a bunch of plastic tables and chairs presided over by three women now familiar to me, the owner affectionately known as "Mamma" her chubby daughter Conception and what I considered somewhat of a long term social project, their single employee, Lizbeth. My eyes followed the curvy Latina as she poured drinks for some rather thuggish looking patrons at one of the other tables.

"She freaked, especially when all of the monitors started playing that shit on a loop. Man, I gotta ask; how'd you do it?"

"Wasn't me, Darrell."

"Yeah right; you know I wouldn't dime you out."

"I had nothing to do with that shit, okay?" Darrell laughed, waving his hands in front of my face half laughing.

"Relax, I had to ask homie; you should have seen Laila running out of that office with all these tissues in front of her face. Mr. Kumar had everybody turn off their monitors, gave us a two and a half hours lunch break, too. When we got back, he still kept us out in the hall while all of the tech guys were fucking scrambling."

"Sounds like fun; did you send me those clips?" I was still watching the full backside of my favorite waitress stuffed in some skintight capri-pants.

"Wait, you saw them?"

"Yeah, you sent them right; you've got my personal email along with Mike. You guys are the only one's I trusted over there and Mike; he's got Mr. Kumar's fucking hand up his ass, now."

"I didn't send that shit; it was probably Mike."

"Fuck that noise; he tried to get me to incriminate myself over the phone while those assholes at the office listened. Motherfucker had me on speaker and didn't think I'd notice." Darrell was drinking some ice tea from a large styrofoam cup nearly spitting it out as he half coughed half laughed.

"Bruh, they pulled his ass into the office grilling him like a fucking wiener; that shit looked like one of those Law & Order SVU episodes or something. What would you do if that shit happened to you?"

"I wouldn't try to throw his ass under the bus."

"Yeah, that was fucked up, but he got kids to feed; cut Mike a break, man."

"We're cool but we ain't hanging out no time soon; you'd think he would've at least married one of those women who took the time to have his children." I commented finding the apple of my eye glancing over her shoulder at me. Lizbeth followed the trajectory of my gaze to her own ample derriere turning in faux outrage silently admonishing me with a wave of her finger.

"Mike having too much fun living that bachelor life; you know he told me he stuffed that new Asian chick they hired at the office."

"Seriously?"

"Said she had a bubble butt; he was pissed because she acted like the shit didn't happen the next day."

"Serves him right." I was still sore; Mike wasn't getting any male bonded and approved sympathy from me. Lizbeth found her way to our table filling both of our cups on the house with an inviting smile directed in my direction.

"Hey Lizbeth; wanna get coffee or something?"

"NO!"

The Latin beauty's answer caught me off guard even as she playfully pinched my cheek before walking off. Lizbeth put a little extra in her step knowing I was watching along with Darrell. I paid the bill treating him before we parted ways.

*************************************************************************************

I was channel surfing back at my apartment thirty minutes later when predictably, my phone rang again with Laila's number on its face. I watched it ringing in several cycles before deciding to answer it as a plan formulated in my mind.

"Laila, I'm recording-for the record." It was just a little after midnight.

"Turn it off, I'm by myself."

"Bullshit." She hung up only to call me again using face time which I answered finding her sitting in what looked like another hotel room. The Indian intern was a mess of running mascara mixed with tears looking like the world had come crashing down on her.

"What?!!" I wasn't conceding anything.

"You win."

"Huh?"

"I-am officially out at the office, okay? You don't have to release that fucking sex tape, now." She wiped away some tears with a fistful of tissues. I noticed she was still wearing her work clothes.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"STOP-FUCKING WITH ME!! Look-I'm really sorry about all of that business at the office; it was quite shitty and I'm willing to do what I can to make it worth your time, my friend."

"I-don't trust you."

"Well, what can I do to gain some modicum of trust? I'm perfectly willing to go along with whatever you have in mind to bring a close to all of this nastiness. Look, I mean it severely and all you have to do is just tell me what it is, you'd want me to do in order to earn your trust, if only to conclude matters." She was sniffling, wiping more tears from her face.

"Well, if you're serious; I'd want a simple trust exercise right here on face time while I'm recording."

"OKAY-WHAT IS IT?!"

"Uhm, this is a trust exercise; so like, remove your jacket." I expected her to hang up in my face out of outrage, but she slid out of her jacket without a word.