Who Knew

James Harper looked at the email on his screen. “So much for corporate etiquette in sending emails,” he muttered to himself as he typed a response. I beg your pardon?
Who is this?
James Harper.
Well James Harper your office is sending us the wrong data and it’s pissing me off.
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. And you are?
Bridie Clare from the Brisbane office.
Ah yes, the she-devil who has started sending us daily emails pointing out our inadequacies.
That would be me. You lot have been doing this job long enough to have got it right by now.
And you are perfect.
Damn straight. Now get someone to re-email me the correct data now.
“What the hell? James stared at the screen in amusement. “Bridie? Short for Bridget?”
His assistant David shook his head. “It’s actually short for Bride of Frankenstein. She’s a pushy bitch that one.”
James opened the spreadsheet she had sent back to them. He glanced quickly at the data. “Yeah but she’s right. Our figures are wrong.”
“Don’t tell her that.”
“Why?” James smiled. Was David scared of her? He liked scary women. They hid so many interesting things under flimsy layers of defense.
“Because we’ll never hear the end of it.”