B R U C E
“What am I supposed to do with an eighteen-year-old girl?” I asked, leaning forward, placing my elbows on the desk.
“I’ve never even met the girl.” It’s been a long f*****g week and now this.
I can feel the tension snaking up my spine, which I’m sure will lead to a massive headache that will f**k up my whole day.
“The estate won’t be settled for another week, and she’s, well, sheltered. She needs to stay with someone she knows she can trust. Someone her mother trusted. I’m sure she can entertain herself during the week,” Jim, a junior associate at the firm, informs me.
I have the urge to throw him out of my office or fire his ass, but this isn’t his fault. This was my own doing.
I knew Debra, my ex-wife, had a daughter, but I’d never met her in the two years that we were
