Page 61 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
All that could be managed, if not for the fact that IPA was staffed with savages.
(“Wait, we have a garbage disposal? Here I’ve been flushing my shrimp shells in the ladies’ room like an idiot!”)
And teaching the savages basic break room courtesy had taken forever.
(“Wait, shrimp shells clogged the disposal? What, I should throw the shells out the window? That’s littering!”)
Then, and only then, had Oz dipped into his private funds and had the place thoroughly cleaned, the fridge and microwave replaced, the old carpet torn out, and converted it from “vile cesspool” to “passable break room if everyone just does their fair share.”
And who better to decide what everyone’s fair share was and call out those who were slacking? Nadia Faulkner, whose escaped lunch had set the whole disgusting business in motion.
Annette, while grateful, had also warned him, because she lived to harsh his buzz. “This was really generous. But your money isn’t going to solve all your problems here.”
“But it’ll solve some of ’em. Frozen Swiss Roll? Only the deeply uncouth eat them at room temperature.”
“Why, yes. I’ll have four. Thank you.”
All this to say they were in the break room, showing Magnus Berne pictures of the plane crash while Nadia was scorching the ears of the poor idiot who threw his half-empty Coke can into the recycling bin.
This was almost welcome, because Oz had been replaying the mistletoe scene in his head on a near constant loop for the last two hours. Her eyes. Her snort. Her gentle touch as she seized his ears and dragged his mouth down to hers.
“And I am shocked,shocked, that I need remind you of such basic recycling etiquette,” Nadia shrilled. “You need to think of others, you wretch!”
Bob Links cowered away from her. “You’re on us to recycle. I friggin’ recycled!”
“Making a sticky Coke soup that congeals on the bottom of the bin isnotrecycling,” Nadia snapped. “Well. Technically it is. But it’s disgusting and makes everyone’s job harder and it isquiteunacceptable and you will cease this behavior immediately.”
“You remember how I’m your boss, right?”
“Irrelevant!”
The hell of it was, Nadia was right. Bob Links was one of the IPA directors, and thus wasalltheir bosses (except David, who was an independent contractor). But it didn’t matter because Links was also a jaded bureaucrat who preferred to keep his head down. (That wasn’t figurative; he’d been caught dozing at his desk more than once.) And he let his staff get away with everything up to murder (and maybe even that—no one had tested that theory so far) as long as their numbers made his quarterly reports look good.
“And stop stealing sugar to sweeten the vile brew you think is coffee,” Nadia added, towering over Links, a good trick since he was taller.
“Using break room sugar packets isn’t stealing!”
“Those packets belong to me, Robert Links! Stop absconding with them. I have counted them and shall know in an instant if you’ve disobeyed me.”
“Ridiculous bullshit,” Magnus muttered as Bob made himself scarce. Then, louder, “Should we be doing this somewhere else?”
“Probably,” Annette muttered.
“Not at all.” Nadia turned to give Magnus an appreciative once-over, and Bob used the chance to lunge for escape. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No, you started t’introduce yourself, then saw the state of the recycling bin. Magnus Berne.”
“Nadia Faulkner. No relation to the writer, I’m much more clever.” Nadia showed her teeth and extended a tiny hand. She was dressed neck to knee in sapphire blue, which exactly matched her eyes and made her fair skin seem even paler. Nadia probably went about ninety-five soaking wet, and men underestimated her to their peril. She was Annette’s partner, but as far as Oz could tell, Annette did most of the heavy lifting, leaving all the paperwork and most of the snark to Nadia. “No need to compliment me on my charming accent, either, Mr. Berne.”
“Thank you, lass, I’ll cross that off my to-do list.”
“As for yours…let me guess—Edinburgh?”
“As good as. Currie.”
“I regret meeting under these circumstances. You’re Sally’s uncle, yes?”
“Godfather.”
