I should just chalk up today as a loss. It’s common knowledge that Mr. Berns, one of the three partners in the firm, is retiring next year. After Tom Harding’s big win yesterday, he’s definitely in the running to take Berns’s spot. Add in my complete disaster of a date with Finn’s sister last night and the past twenty-four hours have been complete shit.

Too bad it can’t be like that movie Groundhog Day and I can wake up and change the course of events.

If Darla’s not able to get those papers back for me, it’ll be my arse on the line, not hers. Out of the entire time she’s worked for me, this is by far her most egregious error.

Who sends a messenger away?

I can’t let this one ride. I have no option but to talk to Mr. Simons and explain how incapable she is. Maybe there’s a position somewhere else in the company for her. I don’t really care where she ends up as long as it’s not working as my right hand.

The thought of my right hand reminds me what I was doing this morning during my shower. Jacking off to the thought of Finn’s little sister, Kenzie, is bloody asinine after the events that took place last night. And makes me feel like a complete creeper, being that she’s my best mate’s little sister.

It’s confusing as hell, given that I couldn’t wait to get away from her last night. I mean, her long blonde hair has always been my preference on a woman, and her bright-blue eyes sparkle, and no male could miss her plump lips. Regardless, the woman is an overgrown toddler excited for Santa to arrive. What exactly did my subconscious find alluring about that?

I push all thoughts of Kenzie from my head and stand from my desk, taking a moment to adjust myself now that I have a half-chub from thinking of her. Bloody hell.

Once I’m situated, I head out of my office and down the hall toward Mr. Simons’s office. I can’t let Darla’s ineptitude slide any longer. But I’m going to have to approach this subject delicately because pussy-whipped is too soft a term for what Mr. Simons is for his new, younger woman.

I approach his office, which is situated at the corner of the high-rise and looks out over Manhattan. The adjoining office is where the other partner, Mr. Berns, now works. If he retires next year, it will probably be mine or Tom Harding’s.

When the time comes, I’m pretty sure Mr. Berns will give me his vote and I suspect Tom Harding will be getting Scofield’s. Which makes Mr. Simons the tiebreaker.