Chapter 3

Andrew

It was a day from hell to add to the terrible week I’ve been having. I can’t believe that arrogant fuck tried to take credit for my work. He can try, but I’ve got the proof. He’ll get his in the end.

He walks around like he has a stick up his ass. I should give him a swift kick to get it a little deeper. Then again, if that stick were any deeper, he’d be tasting his shit. Between the stick and his head, I don’t know how the fucker gets any work done.

That’s alright. I’ve got the proof. That fucker went too far this time. He’s been taking credit for everyone else for years, but no one will ever say anything. They’re afraid because of his relation with the boss. I’m not afraid. I bring more value than anyone else around, and the boss knows it.

I need to breathe. Traffic’s behind me. Only one day left until I can take Yoli to the cabin. I just want to get home, pour myself a little scotch on the rocks. Not the great stuff there for celebrating, but the good stuff. There’s nothing like a good single malt to take my problems away.

Once I’m no longer thinking about that thieving fuck, I can think of more pleasant things. I’d like to think about the cabin, but such thoughts of our debauchery will have to wait until we’re there. Tonight, it’s just the two of us in bed.

I just need to get through tomorrow without losing my temper. Present my evidence to the boss at our meeting on Monday. Make it clear the thieving fuck steals from everyone on the team he’s supposed to run. If all goes well, he’ll be gone and I’ll get his job. I’m due for a promotion. I’ve busted my ass, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

I put the car in park and get out as single malt calls my name. I’ve no idea why anyone would drink scotch that is anything other than single malt. If you’re going to drink scotch, it has to be the good stuff.

With briefcase in hand, and a pleasant breeze at my back, I head towards my door. Scotch on the rocks and sex with my wife. I can get through tomorrow, and then it’s fun at the cabin with Bre.

I must push thoughts of my daughter back until the cabin. We’ve kept our secret from them all this time and won’t risk anything now. We’ll both get what we want in time. I don’t know how it’s going to happen, but it will.

If I hadn’t been so angry about them drinking my expensive scotch, right from the bottle, I could’ve made something happen then. You don’t drink single malt from the bottle. That’s just wrong in every way it could possible be wrong. It’s to be savored, not downed like the cheap stuff.

It’s just a matter of time until they fuck up again. I just hope it doesn’t cost me another bottle before it happens. Next time, I’ll have a cooler head, since Yoli will make certain I don’t just blow up at them. We’ll talk, like we should’ve talked that night, and she’ll remind me of the benefits of them fucking up.