Lincoln tried calling Enrique again. "Shit, you know what the problem here is, with Enrique and all these fuckers," Lincoln said, pointing the phone at Mat with an accusatory look on his face. "All these little shits come into the company with their own private and personal agendas and once they get where they want to be, they go about conducting that private business or personal vendetta with absolutely no consideration of what kind of shit they're dragging the company into."
"You have to send somebody." Mat stared at him.
Lincoln stared back. "No." Lincoln gritted his teeth. "Not Carlos."
"You have to send somebody."
"He has his own agenda. He's just been salivating, waiting to get a chance to throw himself into the lion's den."
Lincoln cursed, and he started to dial another number.
"Who you gonna send, then?"
Lincoln looked at him with an exasperated look on his face. "Who else?"
They spoke resolutely, in unison. "Carlos."
"Yo, big L!" A guy hailed him from the bar. The person carried a white trash bag. He approached their table.
"Hey McCarthy, you brought the balloons."
He handed Lincoln the bag. "Cool man," Lincoln pulled out a small purple balloon. He showed it to Mat who gave him a quizzical look. "Hey man this is awesome. Thank you."
"No problem Bro, the least I can do!"
Lincoln got out of his seat, slapped his hands in a strong handshake that drew the other man into a bear hug.
The guy then left them alone.
Mat's eyes shot up.
"It's for Molly's recital- you know, the bunch of grapes."
"That too." Mat indicated the black plastic bag beside Lincoln.
"Yeah, yeah." He pulled out a small, purple coverall. "You see, you take this, and take the balloons." He removed a small balloon from the bag. "And you stick this on this right here and you see, and there you have it: a bunch of grapes."
Mat gave him an all-knowing look that incensed Lincoln.
"I can tell exactly what you're thinking." Lincoln got up. He put the plastic bag under his arm, and grabbed the bag with the balloons. "I don't have to explain anything to you." He looked at Mat with a sly grin. "But I will have you know one grand detail." He leaned over Mat to whisper in his ear. "I've never slept with any of these gentlemen, and I haven't slept with any other man but Bob for the last two years."
Mat tried to cover his stunned expression as he followed Lincoln to the door. Lincoln then stopped at the bar and collected a pair of small purple shoes from the bartender there. Lincoln mouthed the words "thank you" over the loud music, which was starting to transgress from the party floor as the late evening diners dwindled to make room for the evening partygoers.