Page 21 of Park Avenue Princess

Chapter 6

Guy – Present day – New York

“Icy bitch.”

I hear the callous words uttered as a phone is being slammed down onto its cradle. The man, Jimmy, sits at his desk with three other coworkers around him, all who seem oblivious to his actions. Or they’ve just witnessed similar outbursts and know not to give them any attention.

My mission at this branch of the Department of Finance in Manhattan should’ve been in and out, but lost paperwork or an error in filing prolonged my stay.

Sometimes I think there are too damn many redundant entities in government, and business could be streamlined if it were all cut in half. But then people would be griping about tasks not getting completed in a timely manner because of lack of personnel. Maybe.

No happy medium.

I could’ve handled this business with emails and a few phone calls, but I have to visit City Hall, which is close, so I figured a stop here in person would ensure getting this taken care of right away.

While I wait for confirmation on my task, I decide to poke my nose in Jimmy’s business. I know a little about the man, having dealt with him over the past handful of years. Jimmy is an impatient hot-head who thinks he not only knows it all, but believes himself to bea hit with the ladies. His words. In reality, from my observations, he’s an ignorant ass and a chauvinist. How he manages to keep his job is a wonder. But then again, he’s surrounded by other men, thankfully sparing any woman from having to deal with him. Not to say his male coworkers are any more tolerant toward him. Probably indifferent, as long as the work gets completed.

No doubt the woman on the other end of the line had no problem in putting Jimmy in his place, if his response was any indication.

“Problems, Jimmy?”

The man whips his head up, beady gray eyes zeroing in on me. His pale skin tells of a man who does very little outdoors, and the girth around his midsection says he indulges in food and beverage but stays away from any sort of exercise routine.

“Eh, nothing I can’t handle. Seems Miss Snooty over at Management and Budget can’t take a joke or be a team player.”

“Oh, and who would that be?” There are so many people within the NYC government, I can’t keep track of the thousands of personnel.

“Oh, you know, Lynne DuVall.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t know. Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of meeting her.” I make a point with my phrasing, but doubt Jimmy will catch on. If this woman incensed Jimmy’s ire, that person is probably just fine in my book. And while I spoke the truth when I said I hadn’t met her, as the occasion never arose, I had heard other comments about her from colleagues over the last several months. Many praised her skills and knowledge, and said she was a delightful person. A few others, men, in fact, had a similar viewpoint as Jimmy’s, that she was cool and aloof. A spoiled princess. A royal bitch.

If I had to guess, I’d say one of two scenarios occurred: the men were downright pigs who had come on to her and she shot them down; or she unintentionally embarrassed them with her smarts and their ego couldn’t handle it.

Hell, could be both.

Jimmy continues talking.

“Believe me, it ain’t no pleasure. Well, except maybe a pleasure to look at her. She’s one hot piece of—”

“Maybe you need to alter your view of her or you could face a sexual harassment complaint.”

“Pfft,” the man waves his hand dismissively. “No need to worry about that when I don’t even work in the same office as her. I only talk to her occasionally on the phone, and even then I’ve learned to keep it short and sweet. Unlike her.”

“Hmm.”

“Yeah, so a buddy of mine over at the Department of Buildings office tells me Lynne found a discrepancy of about a hundred thousand dollars. Something about permits being filed but the fees not paid even when invoices said they were. And when she called here to check on a few accounts, I happen to suggest she be a sweetheart and overlook that little tidbit, seeing as my buddy is retiring at the end of the year and can’t afford any marks against him when he’s so close to being done, ya know. And what’s a hundred G’s to a city that has billions? Chump change.” The man continues spewing his story, uncaring that his coworkers hear every word he’s saying. “Anyhow, I says to her, her dad woulda just swept it under the rug and let it be, so why can’t she do the same?”

“And let me guess,” I offer. “She refused.”

“Damned right, she refused, even threatened to havemeinvestigated if I thought sweeping something like this under the rug was standard practice where I come from,” he says with indignation. He leans forward and narrows his eyes. “Where Icome from? I come from the same place as that little uppity girl. Right here in good ‘ol New York City”

Jimmy’s tirade is getting louder and spittle is gathering at the corners of his mouth. His words make me want to slug him, and I don’t even know Lynne DuVall. Although I’m already saluting her. I’ve half a mind to look her up and help her with the audit because I hate government corruption, and seems dear ‘ol Jimmy has no problem in overlooking a mere hundred G’s. Sure, there are worse things, but to skim funds, bend or break rules, or cheat the hardworking taxpayer disgusts me.

And the comment about Lynne DuVall’s dad sweeping something like this under the rug? While I don’t know Lynne, I know the name DuVall because of the prestigious accounting firm in Manhattan. And if memory served, the owner is Terrence DuVall. Was she related? The daughter, perhaps?

“You believe that?” Jimmy starts again. “Aren’t we supposed to be looking out for one another?”

I look at the man and have to stop myself from shaking my head in disbelief. “Jimmy, you realize it’s our responsibility to look out forallresidents? Accounting for every penny that flows through our government channels ensures everyone benefits and no one is cheated.”

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