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"Jack, where's that damn Barnicky file?" Margaret J. Kemp, Attorney at Law, bellowed from her office. "I have to leave in five minutes."

"I'll be right there, Ma'am," shouted Jack Dawson, harried paralegal and law student. His fingers flew through the drawer of file folders, but the Barnicky file just wasn't there.

Shit! What did I do with it? he thought, his heart pounding. Think, Jack, think. What was I doing the last time I had it? Then, like a lighting bolt, it came to him. The safe. I was getting the photos and video tapes from the fire safe and I had the file folder in my other hand. I was going to put it back in the file cabinet, but then Maggie started yelling for me over the intercom. I must have...

He ran to the fire safe on the other side of his workstation and frantically worked the combination.

"Jack, tick, tick," Maggie shouted from her office.

He said a quick prayer and pulled the heavy door open. Bingo! There it was, right on top. He snatched the heavy folder and hustled to the door leading to his demanding, task master's office. He got there just in time. She was already coming out, the keys to her Mercedes CL 500 coup clenched in her teeth as she slipped into her smartly tailored, navy-blue suit jacket. "Barnicky file," he said, handing her the folder.

She buttoned her jacket, and snatched the keys from her mouth before accepting the folder, turning an icy stare on her subordinate as she did so. "So where'd you find it?" she asked. "It obviously wasn't in the file cabinet where it belongs."

Jack's stomach lurched. He hated it when she gave him that look. Her deep blue eyes seemed to cut right through him as if she were looking right into his soul. "I left it in the fire safe when I was getting the tapes out, Ma'am," he admitted. He knew better than to lie about it. Maggie Kemp could smell a lie five counties away.

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "Pretty careless, Jack," she said, popping him lightly on the forehead with the folder for emphasis. "There would have been hell to pay if I had to postpone this meeting because you couldn't find this. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, wishing desperately that he possessed the power to disappear. "It won't happen again."

"It damn well better not!" she said. She ran her fingers through her thick black hair and glanced at her Rolex. "I don't have time to talk to you now, but we will discuss your unacceptable loss of focus when I get back. Understood, mister?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, swallowing hard. It wasn't a discussion he was looking forward to.