Page 16 of Remington’s Mate

She returned his coffee with a lot more cream and a fresh napkin with a new message: Working. Hiding. Investigating what?

He took a sip of the coffee.

“I hope it’s to your liking this time,” she said, with only the tiniest of smirks. It was more cream than coffee, and also lukewarm.

“It’s perfect.” He smiled up at her, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Sutcliffe made a sudden jerky movement, and his coffee slopped into his saucer and onto his fancy leather desk blotter.

“Napkins! Napkins!” he demanded, waving his hand. His own tiny useless napkin was already soaked. He reached out to Colt, who was just sneezing into his own written-on napkin.

“Sorry,” Colt said innocently, as Jaeda bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Allergies.” He crumpled up the napkin.

Jaeda hurried over with paper towels and mopped up the mess as Sutcliffe shoved himself back from the desk. “Stupid girl!” he snapped. “You filled it too full.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Sutcliffe.” Jaeda heroically resisted the urge to pour the rest of the coffee on his crotch.

As she was walking back to the coffee cart with the sodden paper towels and the now unacceptable coffee cup and saucer from her boss, Colt handed her his crumpled-up sneezed-on napkin. “Here, sweetheart. Would you throw that out for me?”

Another minute of this, and there were going to be two dead bodies in this room.

Jaeda stalked over and poured Sutcliffe a fresh cup of coffee. Colt’s crumpled-up napkin uncrumpled, and she realized he’d wrapped a second napkin around the one he’d fake-sneezed into. At least, she hoped it was fake. Because yuk.

The last message said: We need to talk. Later.

Oh, hell yes, she thought. Yes we do.

Once the oh-so-important menfolk were fed and coffee’d, Jaeda was dismissed to her desk to finish the paperwork while they talked.

Which could have been a disappointment, because she was dying to know what the hell Colton McCall was doing in her construction firm, of all places in the whole damn country he could be.

Luckily, Jaeda had spent part of her first week on the job not only learning the whole security system—including where the camera coverage was in her area (she couldn’t fucking pick her nose anywhere in the whole outer office without it being captured on video), and where it wasn’t (Sutcliffe’s office, the lavatory, and also the private storeroom where their office and coffee supplies were kept). Also, how it worked and what other holes it had.

One of which was the intercom system between her office and Sutcliffe’s. Not only could they call each other, but Sutcliffe could open the line from his desk, and hear what was going on in her office.

It had only taken her ten minutes and the intercom system’s online installation and maintenance manual to figure out how to set it so she could also open the line and hear what was going on in his office. Without it giving a signal on his end.

Purely for safety reasons, of course. Like, in case he was being murdered in there. Or also so she could learn what he needed and do it before he needed it, so he realized how indispensable she was.

Or, if a damn shifter happened to be in his office in a meeting, and she wanted to know what they were talking about. She hadn’t considered that particular application before, but she was nothing if not adaptable.

Jaeda put on her headset so the broadcast would be heard only by her, and flicked the intercom to the receive mode. Then she pulled up the contract paperwork on her computer and proceeded to add Colt’s information in the relevant areas.

Because she was also a kickass multi-tasker.

After some bullshit preliminaries, the two men started talking about the current project, focusing on project specifications and construction materials.

Due to her cramming, Jaeda understood about sixty percent of it. She made herself some notes on particular types of materials to research further.

Then the tone of the conversation changed. Even Colt’s voice changed, in a way that made her start typing slower. Because he was using his ‘who-me-I’m-not-up-to-anything-why-do-you-ask’ voice.

No one who didn’t know him would have any idea. But she and the other kids had been on the wrong end of enough McCall pranks and practical jokes over the years to recognize it.

“Is this your total budget?” he was asking now. “I understand you need to aggressively rein in your materials costs. Can I see the spec sheets again?”

Sutcliffe said smoothly, “These are the lower-cost alternatives we’re suggesting. Your predecessor insisted on overdelivering as far as certain materials. I need assurance you can be flexible enough to meet the budget. As stated in our agreement, your bonus is dependent on doing so.”

She heard papers rattling, and then Colt said, “What if I can come in under budget? Does my bonus increase proportionally?”