After lunch, I was heading to a meeting with a group of colleagues when Cindy stepped into our path and blocked the way.
"Hey, you. Who said you could wander around during work hours?"
The people behind me stared in horror at the intern badge dangling from Cindy's lanyard, baffled that she had the audacity to talk down to their boss.
"Debbie Henson, I'm talking to you!"
Cindy had a small entourage of her own, mostly interns who'd never laid eyes on me before. But they seemed to know she was the "manager's girlfriend," and that was enough for them to fall in line.
"Miss Pruitt is speaking to you." A boy with a face full of acne lifted his chin high. "Are you deaf or blind? Do you have any idea who she is?"
My assistant slammed a hand on the nearest desk. "Do you have any idea who Ms. Henson is?"
"Like I care?" Their faces still carried the softness of youth, but the words coming out of their mouths were vile. "Who knows whose bed she climbed into to land some low-level management gig. Miss Pruitt is Manager Sanchez's girlfriend!"
"Are you people so clueless you don't even know who Manager Sanchez is?"