Gerald Nizbit stared at the text on his screen in astonishment, then he picked up the phone. “Helen,” he said crisply to his assistant. “Get me my lawyer on the phone, then Margaret Pratt, then my mother — in that order!”
Helen had been Gerald’s personal assistant for ten years, and she knew he wasn’t a particularly patient man, so she immediately started calling his attorney. In his office, Gerald was staring at the screen and shaking his head in disbelief. Oh, he was going to pay her back for this!
Finally, Helen managed to get hold of the lawyer and put him through. “Sam,” said Gerald crisply. “Old boy, I just wanted to advise you that you committed a faux pas! You sent me my mother’s will for approval instead of sending it to her.”
On the other side of the line, the lawyer blustered his apologies and embarrassment, but Gerald had said what he wanted to say so he quickly dismissed him and hung up. He sat staring out of his huge floor-to-ceiling window at the snowy New York skyline until the phone rang again.
