‘Stevens,’ I clicked my fingers sharply. ‘Where are those quarterly reports?’
Stevens looked at me blankly and I shook my head, stuffing a cigar between my teeth.
‘No!’ my assistant snapped as I stretched to light it, snatching the match out of my fingers. ‘Doctor’s orders.’
‘It’s not my doctor you should be scared of.’ I glared at her.
‘No.’ She glared back. ‘It’s your wife.’
I frowned, chewing on the soggy end of my cigar. She has me there.
I turned back to Stevens. ‘Well?’
‘I don’t, uh…’ the poor man stammered. ‘It’s not the end of the quarter, we’re still—’
‘Do you have them for me, or not?’ I growled.
He shook his head (and his body) quite violently. Grumbling about incompetence and stupid doctors, I stalked away from him, assistant hot on my heels.
‘What about that pilot program from the new blood?’ I asked her. ‘The one with all the hoo-hah about the company that does corporate video production near Melbourne?’
‘I’ve been keeping an eye on him, like you asked—’
‘That would be one person doing what they’re told,’ I muttered.
‘—and he’s doing an exceptional job,’ she went on, ignoring me. ‘He clearly knows what he’s doing. Where did you find him?’
‘Don’t go falling too madly in love.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘There’s no guarantee he’ll be here next week.’
‘I’m not—’
‘We poached him from a Melbourne firm. He was suggested by our head-hunter for his “fresh attitude” and “superior aptitude”,’ I said, laying the scorn on thick. I had a thought about women in the workplace that I would have happily shared ten years ago, but now had to keep to myself.
‘He came back with projections,’ she showed me, shoving a tablet under my nose as we walked.
‘How long will it take for the post-production services to come through?’ I asked, assuming she’d read it before me.
‘Two more weeks.’ She sighed, rolling her eyes and taking it back.
‘Good,’ I nodded. ‘That’ll give me something to look forward to as I’m firing Stevens.’