I glowered in the darkness of my corner office, rhythmically stabbing a pen into the soft leather that cushioned my desk.
‘Boss!’ my top lawyer called, darting into my office and nearly blinding me with the harsh light of the office as he swung open the door.
‘Close it!’ I growled, but he’d already seen the rage on my face and had begun to swing it shut behind him. ‘What do you want?’
‘The McIntyre deposition—’ he started to say.
‘Do not mention the goddamned McIntyre deposition to me right now,’ I roared, ‘unless you want to meet the wrong end of my second-favourite letter opener.’
He visibly gulped, and feigned swiping his hair back into place to hide that he was wiping sweat from his brow. ‘It’s just, we need—’
I made a show of reaching for my drawer, and pulling out the aforementioned letter opener.
‘These windows have been treated with some of the best commercial tinting available in the Melbourne CBD,’ I said quietly. ‘Nobody would see a thing. They might hear something, but let’s be honest – it would only make them less likely to come in and help you.’
‘Do you want me to go?’ he eventually stammered.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I want you to brief me on how you’re going to win the McIntyre case.’
‘Sir, they have the documents, the ones that show—’
‘I know what they show!’ I yelled, standing up fast enough to flip my chair over behind me. The lawyer quivered, taking an unconscious step backwards towards the door.
‘I think I’d better come back when I’m more prepared,’ he said quickly. A small, non-murderous part of my brain was impressed by his composure.
You’d think that would make him a good lawyer.
‘Don’t think that a lack of good office window tinting will save you!’ I called after him as he rabbited into the hallway. ‘I’ll get you wherever you are!’
I sighed, the anger ebbing away, and bent down to pick up my chair.
For the first time, I noticed the pen-marks in the top of my desk and swore.
‘How the hell did that happen?’