Staking a Claim

I came back with all eyes on me and Moises and marched him up to her office. I stood back and waited.

"Hi, Ms. Kinsey. What can I do for you?"

"Moises, do you believe you are owed something?"

"Excuse me?"

"Because, if you've had an issue with your job or your pay, you could have always come to me." She was moving in for the kill. Maybe we shouldn't have watched The Godfather yesterday...

"I know ma'am. Is this about what I said about you and Miss Branson?"

"Well, you seem to be under the impression your work email is private, but if there's ample complaints, you are subject to a quick evaluation, per our employee handbook...And...you've broken our conduct policy with the number of times severely negative and hateful expressions were sent via your email. Over and over again..." She shuffled papers on her desk.

"I've been informed and...I'm quoting verbatim here, you've said expressions like 'this bitch better give me my raise this year or I'll code her ass.' I assume that refers to me but I'm not sure what it means to 'code an ass.'"

I knew our coworkers were eavesdropping so this tongue lashing wasn't even private. I exulted. I'd always hated that fucker.

"And I'm skipping over every stray thought you've had about every woman in the office. Even Gladys? Moises! She's almost 70!" I could see his cheeks turn red in shame. "And lastly, ending with the last straw with your comment to four of your coworkers today," she lowered her voice dangerously to a murmur "'she's probably late because she's getting fucked by her fag dyke.'"

"Pick up your immediate things and leave. We'll ship you anything that's not urgent. Goodbye." He froze for a moment and then turned around to go back to his floor. I went to my desk phone to call security, Shaina answered me.

"Hey, lover! What's up?"

"Shaina, send an escort to Moises in IT. Make sure he doesn't do anything crazy on the way out, please."

"Holy shit! Okay, got it. Sunny, get Fran--" she hung up on me.

I went back into Suzie's office, all business. "Walker's expecting you at 11:30 to have lunch and plan terms per each following container for the knit sweaters. Your 3 o'clock will need sportswear and youth product."

"And headwear." She added quickly. I jotted it down.

"Ok, get me the cheapest container first. That should have plenty of volume of light product. Get me samples of all unisex sportswear and youth. I think I have all the headwear samples." I made a note to double check.

"Ok, smart." I jotted it down.

"Make sure they finalize terms on the proforma from yesterday before my meeting with him, just in case."

"Impossible, but okay." I quipped and she scowled at me.

"So, will you do it?"

"Of course! Sorry, I meant impossible for anyone besides me. I have a contact I give flowers to every month to expedite matters for me."

"Hm...How old is she?"

"Oh, you know. Young." I hedged.

"Apologies for underestimating you..." The banter was so addictive.

"No worries! Anything else, miss?"

"No that's it, oh lunch please! A real lunch! I'm probably having vegan rabbit food with Walker...Whatever you want. I trust you."

"Will do...and thanks..." she pursed her lips, hating affection.

"For what? I'm just doing my job." I held my fist to her and she bumped it with a smile.

"Very well, may I add? And did I hear he called me a 'fag dyke?'" I pressed, a little surprised at his obscene hostility.

"Did he? I thought he was talking about me?" She said nonchalantly, still staring at her computer. I grinned and she looked hazily up at me. "I believe you have some schmoozing to do? With someone who's not me?" I jumped and turned around quickly, rushing out to accost Walker.

Eventually, I ran back into her office jumping up and down.

"I got sixteen!" I said quietly, so no one would overhear. She stood up at jumped up and down and squealed silently. I wanted to shake her, but I controlled myself. She went to sit down, composed, but grinning.

She pointed at me. "You're a genius!"

"I know! Who gets 3? This guy!" I pointed my thumbs at myself.

"You got it! 3!"

I pointed back at her and exulted in my new-found riches. I danced in my chair as she did, too, around the corner.

No one bugged us about our supposed closeness after that for fear of being canned.

----

That weekend, I went out with my friends to celebrate my commission with a bang.

I was chatting with my best friend in our cozy vinyl booth. He's been around since I've moved into the city and he has surprising depth to him despite the fact I'd met him dancing shirtless in a club. He...was the one shirtless...not I.

"Congrats, man! What are you going to do? Put a payment down on a house or something?" He wrapped his arm around the back of my chair as he kicked under the table.

"Nope! Paying off the car and putting the rest into savings!" I said in a loud voice while I sipped on something sugary with a little umbrella.

"Cool! How's your sexy boss?" He laid his head back and shouted at the ceiling.

"She's good. Happy we got the sale!"

"Noice! And your book, how's that coming along?"

"Oh, you know..." I hedged. I honestly haven't given any thought to the novel I started a while ago. A pang of guilt ran through me when I realized I wasn't going to be a published author by 25.

"Listen Moriah...I'm happy for you, but we said we were going to do this and I don't really see you doing it...You're becoming a..." he looked around like if he was ashamed of what he was going to say next, "a pencil pusher." His wide eyes showed panic.

"Omigod, you're so dramatic! I just needed a little money after college! I'd say it's going very well...So what if I'm not using my degree? I'm learning a lot and getting real world experience."

"Too bad there's one redhead that won't let you experience her..."

I leveled a scowl at him.

"But seriously if you're still there three years later, knowing you don't have time to write. What are you doing?"

"I have time to write..." I countered quietly, not really meaning it.

"Like, are you there out of some misplaced loyalty for her or something?"

"No! Not really!...it's just like I said, I've learned a lot! She's taught me a lot! I've honestly learned more about psychology and people in these past three years than all my life put together."

"Well, it's nice that you're enjoying yourself...even if you are slowly being swallowed up by the giant maws of death that is the CORPORATE LEECHING OF OUR WORLDS FINITE RESOURCES. I mean come on, Mor? You work for the Man...disgusting..."

"So...you don't want me to buy your drink..."

"No, no! I mean this daiquiri is a resource that is not finite..."

I laughed at my best friend. He did mean well and yes if I wasn't so caught up in the 9-to-forever job, I might have time to write the next great American novel. But it's only been three years...and I really was enjoying myself. The blurred lines between my friend/boss/mentor was something I've never seen or felt before. I clutched every interaction in my grip and was insanely possessive of it.

If I unclutched my hand, it might very well flutter away. I knew it wasn't the job that I was afraid to lose, it was her.

"And on that note, why don't you buy my friend here a drink as well?" I turned from my stupid metaphor about butterflies to look at an adorable girl. She was dark-skinned with long flowy black hair and a cute button nose. Her wide smile stretched over her pearly whites.

"Hi! I'm Moriah!" I reached out my hand to shake. She took it daintily and grinned at my politeness.

"Hi! Joey. Jo-Anna...but Joey..." she swirled her hair around and I gestured to come sit next to me. I practically gave my back to Jesse, my friend, and he chuckled, sipping on his drink.

"Joey...is the art gallery assistant at the Modern Movement on 7th." He supplied helpfully.

My eyebrows shot up. That was a pretty posh one. "Really?! What kind of art are you into?" Everyone in these positions were up and coming artists. And one of the best ways to get into someone's pants was to take an interest in their own art.

"I do glassblowing."

I groaned.

"That's hot!" She giggled and a waiter came up to take our order.

"Please tell me more about how you blow the glass..." I said as the waiter left. Jesse groaned at my words, behind my back, but Joey just giggled with her wide smile and placed her hand on my knee as she started to explain the heat of the oven and the giant rods of glass they had in the shop.

At the end of the night, I gave hugs to everyone there and an especially hard one to Joey.

"Thanks for my drinks." She whispered.

"Thanks for the excellent company." I whispered back. She hopped into her Uber and I waved at her bye. I turned around to see Jesse grimacing at me.

"What?"

"Ew!"

I chuckled. "Me and Joey?"

"Weird to see Lesbians at the watering hole. And come on dude! That was not your best! 'Tell me more about how you blow glass'...bah!" He spat at the concrete.

"Well, it worked! I got her number and a date to see that pop up art walk."

"Disgusting."

"Didn't you bring her for me?" I lit up a cigarette and passed it to him. Once I lit one for myself, we walked down the dark street.

"Thanks...no! I didn't bring her for you, you hound! I merely invited her so I could tell her about my work with Threads of Society." I took a drag as I looked at him. It finally dawned on me what I'd done.

"Ohh, shit! Really?? I'm sorry dude! I really did think you were setting that up for me!" He shook his head sadly. "You know she's a Lesbian..." I stated helpfully.

"Yeah, I got that!" He flipped me off.

"Like, she's not even Bi..."

He shoved me through the door of his apartment building and we took the elevator up to his penthouse. I flopped down on his couch and grabbed at the PlayStation remote.

"A little call of duty?" I said around my cigarette.

"Yeah, but no ash on the couch." He took my cigarette and crushed it in the nearby ashtray.

"K. You know I won't call Joey, right? I don't want to be that friend."

"Naw, it's actually really funny, go ahead, she's cute."

"No, I mean it, I won't!"

"Relax, dude, I just met her last week!"

"Oh, ok, I will then." He chuckled and I shot a guy cleanly through the head.

He wolf-whistled at my perfect shot.

We played video games for a little while and when he started getting delirious and went screaming into the enemy compound with a bunch of grenades, I decided to call it a night.

"I'm crashing here, eh?" He grunted as he stumbled off with a cup of water to his bedroom.

I could hear his snores coming from his bedroom as I stared at the windows, twinkling with lights, and considered my life. Sure, it wasn't ideal...but I had money, a best friend (with a lovely view of the skyline from his penthouse), a potential new girlfriend, and my own personal walking pin-up in the form of one Suzie Kinsey. She was my own personal torment Monday through Friday for fifty hours a week and sometimes on the weekends when she wanted to have dinner or do something nuts that no one else wanted to join her in.

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

That actually was fun...I looked at her drooling on the pillow and admired how far we'd come. We'd have to do this reminiscing thing a little more often. It's fun to hear it from her perspective, she's filled in some crucial information for me. I'll keep bugging her, then I'll bore absolutely everyone with our epic.