What an Interesting Board of Directors…

Posted: February 13, 2012 in Uncategorized

And I would kill them if I were Nicky by alas she can’t. Another day of the Valentine’s Day Hop so let’s take a taste of how Nicky has to face every day!

THE FLAMINGO WRANGLER – REBEL INK PRESS

BLURB

Mick St. Simons thought his day couldn’t get any worse. Unwanted and God knew unneeded Leopard’s Pointe Board members suddenly appeared, drinking shots of tequila while the entire Virginia Beach Society of Harley Riders camped in the middle of his bar, The Flamingo Rustler. But when he heard the massive explosion across the street and his bar became an immediate association clubhouse, he knew his day had turned to shit.

For Nicky French and Tyler Deverall, it was just another day at the office. Blown to bits by sources unknown, the center of the community and the beloved clubhouse affectionately called the “Zoo”, the Board demanded answers and they had to come fast. As hints of a mafia hit showered the airwaves, the community is placed on edge and takes matters into their own hands. Keeping the peace wasn’t a problem. Keeping the owners away from guns, battery powered hedge trimmers, poison and fire extinguishers was.

And when a much loved long term community leader ends up in the pool naked with a hooker and a bag full of drugs, well, all bets were off. As Mick struggles to regain his bar and Nicky and Tyler battle a possible drug lord, more bodies wash up literally. And then there’s the issue of pink silk panties. The clues are plenty and the suspects abound and somehow, the nights seem to grow wilder.

 

EXCERPT

Nicky French eyed the Leopard’s Point Association Board of Directors and resisted using her purse in a dangerous fashion. But dear God she could see pummeling one or all of them for blatant disregard to intelligence. Why in the hell were they arguing in the middle of July about Christmas decorations? Sighing, she looked out the clubhouse window at the contention of homeowners romping in the pool and squinted before shaking her head and stealing a glance at her watch. It wasn’t quite eight thirty and the cusp of yet another humid evening was baring down on Chesterfield County Virginia but she could see clearly enough. There were naked men in the pool. “What the fuck?

“What did you say, Nicky?” the man asked as he gazed down the length of the six foot table.

Nicky eyed Ray Switzer, the now somewhat infamous Board President of perhaps the swankiest and most well known community association in the entire state of Virginia, and gave him her best rendition of a naughty girl smile. There was something almost comforting about having naked people in a community pool while the zookeepers droned on and on about what she considered to be fairly useless details in life. But since they’d spent nearly forty minutes on arguing about the types of decorations that should or shouldn’t be allowed in the community she knew it was damn important to the five thousand or so homeowners living within the gated community. Right?

God she longed to flee the building before she turned into a pumpkin. They were halfway through the Board meeting agenda and she knew damn good and well the entire group could spend a solid hour on delinquencies alone. Nicky craved a drink, a good lay and a new job. And not necessarily in that order. Tapping her foot against the metal table leg she absently eyed the door that seemed so damn far away. Sadly between the five board members staring at her like she was fresh prey to the forty or so homeowners snuggling into metal chairs hugging the perimeter of the clubhouse living room there was nowhere to run to. “Nothing, Ray. Sorry. And you were saying?” Maybe another damn good murder with something like a weed eater or tree chipper would help the idiots think about anything else but their dying libidos and challenging every creative idea.

Oh yeah, she was dreaming of pink elephants again.

Before any of the Board members had a chance to give a smart retort the door burst open and Patricia Lonestar swaggered into the room in her floor length fur coat.

Nicky fought dropping her head to the table and beating some sense into her brain. If only she had a gun…  Hell, that wouldn’t do any good with the crazies. There was something not quite right about the aging plump woman who had the personality of an alligator and the look of a shark. And wearing a fur coat in the middle of summer was nothing more than her way of shoving down the throats of all the little wannabe’s in the community she had money and they didn’t.

And she the woman couldn’t pay her association fees to save her life. Who the hell couldn’t fork out eighty dollars a month? Nicky knew it was more about her solidarity with something and no one wanted to get close enough with her to find out. Between pink flamingos flying at half staff in the community, a solid five percent refusing to pay their fees and the committees who enjoyed torturing… er tormenting people in the community Nicky was surprised anyone could smile. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at the ugly bulldog who somehow reminded her of Patricia. Same ugly demeanor. Same ugly scowl. Same facial structure. At least the dog’s fur coat was somehow better suited and better fitted.

“That lying bitch is going to die!” Holding out her shaking hand Patricia hissed as she foamed at the mouth and pointed directly at Nicky, her eyes full of rage.

Gasping, Betty Monroe, the Vice President and forty’s harlot wannabe chomped her gum and gazed down the table at Nicky. “You have yet another fan, Nicky.”

“Patricia, member voice is over,” Ray snarled.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about protocol and you know it. I’ve come to deal with the nasty letters that woman continues to send me. You need to fire her.” Throwing her head back Patricia snuffed as she stuck her two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

“And not much couth either,” he said under his breath.

Nicky smiled and snuck a quick glance at the association’s Treasurer, Michael Jones. Somehow she longed for him to be in a garish leather get up instead of khaki’s and a polo. She had a feeling a Master Dom would stop Patricia in her tracks. “Patricia, what can we do for you?” Maybe going across the street to the local bar and grill, The Flamingo Rustler would be in order. A drink or five and a moment to flirt with the best looking Aussie in town would do her some good.

“You say I haven’t paid my bills!” Patricia snapped as she sashayed forward.

     Here it comes. Nicky shook her head as she could see Ray opening his mouth to retort. Don’t do it. Don’t… But the man refused to listen to rules or anything else. As what could only be described as a chauffeur on steroids glided into the clubhouse she tried to envision being anywhere else like her OB-GYN with her legs spread wide or perhaps waiting in line, a long line at a Wal-mart. Wait, she’d never go into a damn Wal-mart. But still, anywhere and as she kinda heard the woman going off about how she could buy all of Richmond with striking a check and how she had more money than God and that Nicky was going to burn in hell for lying…  Every day she asked herself the same question, why did she work so hard to achieve the highest designation of PCAM in the country?

Instead of professional community association manager the four simple letters should stand for premier crass asshole methodology. At least the thought gave her a smile. Glancing at the overweight woman foaming at the mouth, she resisted giggling. Inhaling deeply she pretended to write down everything the woman was screeching about but somehow the little man who was pouring what had to be a martini for his boss or perhaps dominatrix was a little distracting. Would jumping over the front aisle and ripping the drink out of the man’s hand be considered in poor taste?

“Just tell us what you want as we have a long agenda ahead of us and I know we would all like to get home before midnight at least,” Ray said as he nodded to the other board members.

Midnight? Nicky snaked her hand down and grabbed her bottle of water. She hadn’t won the debate with her inner wild child about replacing the sixteen ounces with vodka but next time she would know better.

“I’ve come to pay my bill. I can do that here, can’t it?”

There was something about the wry grin on the woman’s face that troubled Nicky. “Of course you can. We can certainly talk about this in private later and I’ll give you the total amount so you can write a check if you like.”

Swirling her drink Patricia grinned before licking the rim. “I have things to do later this glorious evening and I know how much I owe to the penny. Are you ready?”

There was no doubt in Nicky’s mind the evening was going to be long and drawn out. Before she could say anything Ray simply beckoned for her as he huffed.

“Bring it up and then we can get on with the meeting.”

Nicky glanced at Ray and closed her eyes yet she could hear Patricia chuckling. Why hadn’t she gotten the cat-scan earlier? As the bulldog woofed she opened one eye just in time to see the dog take a crap in the middle of the floor.

“Happy to,” Patricia breathed. “Oh Poo Bear! That wasn’t nice. Ricky, please clean this up.”

Seeing Patricia’s chauffer scuttle away like a rat gave Nicky pause. She sorted through her papers and attempted to look busy as other members of the association cackled in the audience.

“God damn it can’t you take care of that rat ass bastard?” Ray snipped.

“Your dog is here too, Ray?” Betty asked as she laughed.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Nicky said through clenched teeth.

Betty slapped her hand. “We have to laugh honey or we’d all go insane.”

Who was the woman kidding? They were already insane.

“Let’s get back to business. Now Nicky, can you at least get us two proposals for the Christmas decorations by next week? We can call a special board meeting to decide,” Ray snorted as he slapped the top of the table.

“Special board meeting? Are you fucking out of your mind? These are long enough at once a month.”

For once Nicky had to agree with Sally. Probably the most hated woman in the community, she rarely said anything but boy she took copious notes.  “You’ll have three and we don’t need a board meeting as long as you all agree on the vendor.”

“Perfect. Then it’s settled. Let’s move on to the clubhouse painting contracts.”

Nicky groaned and concentrated on watching Ricky clean up the dog shit. The act was somehow so damn appropriate.

“Oh Ricky. Please get Poo Bear and I our chairs,” Patricia said as she wagged her finger. “And another martini.”

Nicky opened her mouth and was startled nothing came out. Had she lost her nerve? Or was she just mildly out of her mind?

I don’t know if I would leave home without a gun!

Hope you enjoyed – stop by tomorrow and don’t forget to comment and visit the other sites!

Ciao   xxx

Dakotah

http://www.omnilit.com/product-theflamingowrangler-667878-232.html

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Comments
  1. Poo Bear pooping in the middle of the clubhouse floor was an inspired touch. Still laughing.

    drainbamaged.gyzmo at gmail.com

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