𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐼𝑇𝐿𝐸𝑆𝑆 | 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

—𝐵𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑦—

𝐈

𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒 he had changed into his uniform, Bobby set out to do his simplest task: bring Queenie tea.

The tray he needed was waiting for him on the counter nearest her office. First, he made sure it had everything needed—the milk, sugar, and of course, the tea itself in a glimmering white teacup—before slowly walking over to the office, his eyes trained on the cup that trembled with each step.

Through the half-closed blinds, he could see Queenie chewing a woman out. He decided to wait outside the door.

"You want to go back to selling your ass on the street for five hundred rupees? I brought you in, and this is how you repay me?" When the girl—Sita, he had heard Queenie call her as he approached—sniffled and lowered her head, Queenie sighed. "Okay, okay. Don't cry. As soon as Dr. Irani's back, we'll take care of it."

Queenie's phone began to buzz, and she leaned over to pick it up.

"You're fucking killing me, Rahul." She looked over to Bobby, and snapped at him to come in. "No, no, no. Uh-uh. Listen to me, banchod! You call Evgeni and tell that motherfucker to find another source."

Adjusting his grip on the platter, he began to push the door open, though it was then fully opened by Sita. She brushed past him, and he entered.

As Queenie sat at her desk and began to flip through a booklet, he set the tray down on the edge of the desk. It had been about a week and a half since he started working there, and he very quickly learned how she liked her tea—a spoon of sugar and enough milk to fill half the teacup.

"I made you! Now you think you can sit on my shoulders and piss in my ear?" she scoffed while he took the top off the glass jar of sugar. "They're fuck all. Fuck all. Fuck all. You understand 'fuck all'? No, no, no. No, no. Listen, listen. I have a reputation to protect, understand?"

The door opened, and Alphonso stepped in, waving a hand in greeting.

"What the fuck is your problem?" called Queenie irritatedly as she put her phone down, making Alphonso pause. "How many times do I have to tell you fucking knock on the door and enter?"

"Sorry. Nishit said you needed me!"

"I need you to learn some manners, you inbred little goat fucker," she spat before putting the phone back to her ear. "Rahul, I'll have to call you back."

Alphonso closed the door. Bobby kept his eyes on the tea as he poured the milk in. It would probably be in his better interest to pretend to not be listening.

"Listen," Queenie sighed, "go to Naqeeb and pick up some Kashmiri snowflake. Good stuff, okay? None of that cheap shit."

"But the problem is, uh, quality control, it's no good," Alphonso protested with a wary smile, taking a seat on the couch while Queenie got up and began to walk toward the other side of the room. "Naqeeb has some issue with me, you know? I don't know whether it's the Christian-Muslim thing or what, but—"

"Hey. You." A snap caused Bobby to look toward Queenie, who was pointing her finger at him. "Face the wall."

He quickly followed her orders, letting out a small sigh. He caught sight of their reflection in one of the plaques hung on the wall. He watched as Queenie tugged on a large painting—behind which revealed a safe. He lowered his eyes.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Queenie muttered, the sounds of beeping filling the air as she punched in the code. "Tell Naqeeb, if the maal is good, we'll buy some more for Chief Rana." The name caused his eyes to flick back to the reflection, and he watched as Queenie tossed a bundle of cash on the couch. "Get it sorted by the weekend. He is coming with his boys. Hey, Alphonso," she added as he stuffed the money into his cross-body bag. "Only the best to serve the VIPs."