A stack of envelopes slammed onto Gillian’s desk hard enough to rattle her coffee and send a tidal wave of boiling hot liquid racing across the surface. Luckily, the ceramic walls of the cup curbed the blistering coffee tsunami; only a few drops spattered the papers already in front of her.
“Yeah, Veronica, if you could get these in the mail today—they’re important perks for our top clients,” Martin didn’t look her in the eye as he tossed his demands over his shoulder.
Gillian refrained from telling him that her name was not Veronica, that the last mail pick-up was in fifteen minutes, and that he could take his perks and shove them up his bony—-
The phone rang.
“Good morning, Baker Baker & Bartlett, how may I assist you?” she said brightly.
“Yes, Veronica? It’s Cynthia, can you just put me on through to Mr. Baker Sr.?” The woman’s voice on the other end was wheedling.
“I’m sorry, Veronica is no longer with Baker Baker & Bartlett. My name is Gillian. I’m afraid Mr. Baker is in a meeting, may I—”
“Oh, he won’t mind. Just buzz me on through. Veronica always did. Where is Veronica? She was such a sweet girl, so cute, too!”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Baker’s meeting is off site, I can direct you to his voice mail.”
“I could try his cell phone then? I know I have the number somewhere…”
Gillian lifted her eyes to the ceiling, cradling the phone against her shoulder as she tried, for the umpteenth time, to untangle a knot in the cord.
“He’s in a meeting, ma’am. The best way to ensure he gets your message would be his voice mail or I can take a message personally.”
“I’ll just call back later, then. Tell Veronica I said ‘hello,'” Cynthia hung up, her shrill voice the harbinger of a headache.
Gillian stared at the phone with loathing. A ding from the computer alerted her to an email.
I’m still waiting on those briefs from the O’Conner case. Please email them to me as soon as you can.
Johnson & Partners
Flexing her fingers and breathing deeply through her nose, Gillian replied.
Dear Ms. Jones,
Veronica no longer works with Baker Baker & Bartlett. I would be happy to send you the briefs you require. Please let me know which documents you need and I will send them to you.
Baker Baker & Bartlett
Gillian glanced at the clock. 4:30. She wedged the stack of Martin’s papers under the intercom-equipped phone with its myriad blinking buttons. They would just have to wait. She tidied up the rest of her desk, stirred her coffee, and answered a few more emails—some of which were actually addressed to her. Gillian’s cell phone lit up and she glance at the text. The number was blocked and the message just said “Y.” She fished the small incendiary device out of her coffee and stuck it under the telephone’s handset. Martin’s perks would cushion the device until it went off.
At exactly 4:59 Gillian logged out of her computer—typing in Veronica’s name and password as she did everyday. She picked up her purse and waved goodbye to the other administrative assistants.
At 5:03 a blast rocked the entire 23rd floor of the towering office building, sending broken glass and billowing smoke spewing out the windows.
At 5:04 the law firm responsible for orchestrating the mass acquittal of the most heinous mob boss and his associates and the subsequent framing and execution of her uncle was obliterated.