“Your games not going so well?” Dwight inquired. He knew of his bosses’ darker passions in a vague sort of way, though he’d never been a witness to them, and he never wanted to.
Reggie stared out dispassionately to the group below. “Games,” he said. “That’s what it is,” he answered with added cynicism, leaving his second in command with yet another obscure comment. Dwight could only guess at the meaning behind it. Reggie suddenly turned to him. “Does Cassie have those reports ready?”
“I doubt it. I don’t think Cassie was up for a working holiday. Last I saw of her, she was waving her fanny at Jason Sturbridge. You take her out of the office and that girl is real ditzy blonde.”
“Cut the inference, Dwight. I’ve known dozens of brilliant blondes.”