21. Meg
21
MEG
G enZ ZA sat right across from Pops’ Pizza Place.
While Pops’ restaurant was cozy and inviting, with its red-and-white checkered tablecloths and pictures of Tuscany on the walls, GenZ ZA was all chrome, black tiles, and grimy windows, like a slick front for trafficking E. coli.
In a totally butch move Kevin thundered the Navigator right into a spot in front of GenZ ZA. He strolled Secret Service style around the SUV to open the back door for me to get out.
“You sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”
“Nah, I’ve got this. But thanks.”
With Kevin on standby beside the Navigator, I entered the establishment, and it was worth noting that the few clients there were staring open-mouthed into space with a vacant look in their eyes.
If GenZ ZA looked personality-free from the outside, the interior was a slap in the face of cozy Italian hospitality. And don’t get me started on the funny smell wafting through the air.
The scumbag Elio Ricks himself manned the counter and he was even creepier than his pics online. Slipping right into stereotype, he wore a wifebeater, as if it weren’t autumn on the East Coast.
The dipshit had the nerve to look me up and down, voice lubricated with greasy charm. “Hey, babe. You a bank loan? Cause you have my interest.”
Keeping it professional, I tried not to gag in his face. “I presume you are Elio Ricks?”
It might have been my tone, but Ricks tensed up a teensy bit. “Who wants to know?”
Not wanting to waste any more time than I had to, I got down to business. “I’m Meg
Belfiore. That’s my dad’s restaurant across the street, Pops’ Pizza Place. And apparently, you’ve been up to some pretty shady stuff. I’m here to tell you that I know about every single thing you’ve done. I now have enough proof of your bullshit criminal shenanigans to get your ass put in jail.”
Suddenly, he puffed up, not afraid to show he was irate, but still keeping it light. “You and what army, babe?”
A jittery loser behind the counter was directing a phone at me, presumably recording, while giggling like a schoolgirl with a dirty secret.
My skin started to crawl. “Listen, if you are under the impression I’m kidding around, I suggest you think again. I’m a lawyer, and I will not hesitate to sue the living daylights out of you. That’s my dad you’re messing with. You mess with him, you mess with me, and that’s not the smart way to go.”
And the shifty dimwit that he was, he avoided looking me in the eye, staring past me like he had paying clients standing in line.
“Tell you what, babe--”
“Don’t babe me, please. Unless you want a kick in the balls.”
He rolled his eyes. “Lady, you need to chill out. How about I give you 50% off one of my special feel-good zas. You can’t beat that with a stick.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I would not eat one of your shitty pizzas if you paid me a million dollars. E. coli is not a fun way to lose ten pounds. Consider this a warning. Next time, I won’t be so nice. Have a great day.”
Whatever lingering scrap of chivalry he had left melted faster than wax on an open fire. “Whatever,” he snickered, adding a snort for emphasis.
My patience had officially clocked out. I marched out to where Kevin was holding the door of the Navigator open with a smile. “If that twit so much as sneezes in your direction again, you come to me,” he said.
“Appreciate it. But something tells me he just figured out he’s messing with the wrong bitch.” I said, as I slid into the seat, smoothed my hair, and shut the door like I meant it. “Now I’d better get to work, I’m late as it is.”