Page 30 of Shifters Unifying (Shifters Destiny: Willow Creek Shifters #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
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Six-Mile Manor
“We have a fucking problem,” Olivia announced as she marched into my office with a stack of paperwork in manilla folders. She wore cargo pants, a button-down shirt with the top three undone, and her steel-toed work boots.
“What else is new,” I sighed, scrubbing my hand over my face. “I should have stayed in East Nuttal.”
“Yeah, well,” she said. “No rest for the weary.”
“I thought that was ‘no rest for the wicked.’”
“Either way.” She dropped the stack on the corner of my overflowing desk and plopped down in the seat across from me. “How was Emma?”
“She can mark sex in a tree off her fuck-it list.”
“Is that like a bucket list but for sex?”
I shot her a dark look, unwilling to elaborate. I’d snuck back into the manor before sun-up, hoping to catch some shut eye, but Olivia had left my laptop on my bed with a Post-it note list of items to address stuck to the top of it. I still had a construction company to run.
So, I’d made my first cup of coffee at three a.m. and parked myself in my office to try to make day-to-day shit happen in the brief lull we’d been granted.
Eyeing the newest pile of paperwork minutia didn’t make me feel better about anything.
With Acheron in the shadows, pay apps and stressed-out clients were the least of my worries.
Instead, I asked, “Do you have more coffee somewhere in that stack of shit you dropped off?”
Phil appeared with two steaming cups. “Somebody need coffee?”
I grunted my agreement, and he handed me the larger of the two mugs. Olivia took the other one, and Phil exited without another word.
After a long drink of the hot liquid, I leaned back in my executive desk chair and turned my attention to my beta. “What’s the latest?”
“Jace found nothing.”
“How’s that?”
“He took the scan of Six-Mile and the surrounding territories.” She shrugged. “Nada.”
“How is that possible?”
“Magic, I’m guessing.”
“Jace should have turned something up. Did you double check the data?” There had to be something, a direction, anything.
“Every inch. I sent Phil and the others to check out two possibles I identified, and neither spot panned out. Since then, I’ve had them on regular patrols, but no joy.
Emma seems to be the only one who’s able to make Acheron climb out of whatever shit hole he’s hiding in.
” She paused, and her expression tightened.
“What else?”
“Haven’t heard from Sheila.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “What do you recommend?”
“A trip to Willow Creek.”
“No, Sheila can take care of herself.”
Olivia tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Fine, but you need to take your favorite customer to lunch and calm his tits. He’s having a meltdown over the apartment complex schedule, and he’s getting hovery, won’t leave the subcontractors alone.
They’re having a hard time getting anything done.
I’ve heard he’s a real chauvinist piece of shit, and they’re ready to send him back to wherever he came from. ”
“Is the leasing office on schedule for completion?”
“It’ll be close, but you know how it is. Everything looks a mess, so he keeps asking everyone for dates. I think he’s anxious about getting signed leases on the books. Something about his investors.”
“Do you think I care about their investors?” I roared and jumped to my feet, knocking into the desk, spilling my coffee, and sending my chair onto the ground behind me with a crash. “I don’t have time for this shit.”
Olivia raised her eyebrows.
I stomped to the closest window and stared out of it, watching my shifters crisscross the property as they went about their daily business. A truck with the Blackwood Construction logo rolled to our supply building and three of my employees hopped out and disappeared inside.
The four young shifters and Salali’s warriors were all already in East Nuttal. Tossle hadn’t yet shown his face in Six-Mile, so I didn’t have to distract him from heading over to help the multimorph train anyone.
“Have you had anything to eat?” Olivia asked. When I glanced over my shoulder, she smirked. “I mean, besides Emma.”
“Fuck if I know.”
“So, what I’m hearing is that you need a snack and a nap.”
“I’ll sleep in the car. Pull the SUV around.”
She drained the rest of her coffee and stood. “Already done. Your work boots are waiting.”
My power nap hadn’t been long enough to make me feel rested, but at least, it had been long enough to diffuse my temper before strolling onto one of the largest job sites in Willow Creek.
Olivia’s phone rang, and she checked the caller ID on the SUV screen. “I’ve gotta take this. Tile guys. Supply issues.”
“Do you know where the client is right now?”
“I’m sure he’s in the job trailer.” She tapped the screen in the SUV and answered the call through the Bluetooth. “Hey, Grady. What’s up?”
I dropped a hard hat on my head and climbed out of the passenger seat. Gravel crunched beneath my feet, sending little puffs of dust into the air. The door squeaked, and three men looked up from a large set of plans, laid out on a slanted drafting table.
Rick Moreland, a graying man in slacks and a button-down shirt, straightened.
He wiped his dusty hands on his thighs. “There’s the man of the hour.
” He stuck out his hand and quick-stepped across the linoleum floor.
“Your project manager—Olivia, I think—said you have some family business to take care of. I hope that’s been put to rest.”
“Something like that,” I murmured, noting the relieved expressions on the faces of my foreman and the plumbing contractor. Shaking his hand, I nodded to the other two, and they slipped out of the job trailer, the door slamming behind them. “Rick, what can I help you with?”
“As you know, we have a hard opening date for the leasing office.”
I glanced toward the smaller, most-finished building, closest to the road. The leasing office was supposed to be open by the end of the month, and they expected more than half of the units to be under contract by the time we finished the complex. “Go on.”
“I had a meeting with our investors, and they would like some assurances.”
“What kind of assurances?”
“They want to be open by December first.”
“We’re on schedule.”
He frowned. “How sure are you that we’ll hit that deadline?”
I crossed my arms and plastered a smile on my face. “If I hadn’t been sure we’d make the date, I wouldn’t have bid on the job.”
He made no comment and his scowl didn’t disappear.
“You can assure your investors that we’ll work through Thanksgiving weekend, but our goal is that we won’t have to.
We’ve already got the city and the parish inspectors scheduled to come out the week after Thanksgiving to finalize inspections.
They’ll both issue a certificate of occupancy for the leasing office.
Then we’ll move the silt fence behind the leasing office so prospective tenants can come and go as they please. ”
Rick brightened. “That’s good.”
“You know how it goes. It looks like shit until the finishers come through.”
“True, true.” His stomach growled. “Do you know a good place around here to eat? I’d like to take you to lunch. My treat.”
“Vixen’s is pretty good.”
“Isn’t that a bar?”
“More like a pub.” And I can check on Sheila while I’m there.
“My car or yours?”
“Olivia is waiting outside.”
“Olivia Reeves? Your project manager? That Olivia?”
I nodded.
“Good. I haven’t met her yet.” His eyes took on a calculating gleam I recognized but didn’t like. “I’ve heard good things about her,” he added. “Lots of good things.”
Dammit. He’d probably heard rumors about her lusty lifestyle from the human contractors around the job site. No way our shifters would dare disrespect their appointed leader like that—not unless they wanted to meet the business end of a pissed off beta.
I plastered another fake smile on my face. “Well, she’s the best right-hand man around, so I’m sure every word you’ve heard is true.”
When Rick had climbed into the SUV, he’d chosen to sit directly behind Olivia, and his scent had gone from calculating, mediocre businessman to snake in the grass. Conversation had been stilted since.
We pulled into the parking lot at Vixen’s. At least the lunch crowd was generally less rowdy than nights and weekends. Still, Sheila was mixing drinks behind the bar as usual. She glanced up when we strolled in and gave me a tight smile.
“What’re you having?” I asked the other two, after we’d stepped inside.
“Top-shelf Marguerita,” Rick said, dragging his gaze over Olivia as though his drink order would impress her. He definitely didn’t have lunch on his mind. He winked at her. “That would certainly hit the spot on a day like today.”
Olivia quirked an eyebrow and grabbed three menus from the hostess station. “I’ll have a Chilton.”
“Usual Vodka?” We were shifters, so alcohol didn’t impact us as hard or as long as regular humans, and we didn’t typically worry about having a drink or two with a work lunch. Particularly when we were entertaining clients.
She nodded.
Rick stepped closer to her, presuming and accepting an invitation she hadn’t given. “Do you two come here often?”
“Every chance we get,” she said, averting her face to hide the hard roll of her eyes. “His cousin owns the place.”
“Olivia, why don’t you find us a table,” I said. “I’m going to check in with Sheila and place our drink order. Be there in a minute.”
“I would like to find out more about your… work history,” Rick interjected.
“This way,” she said, gesturing toward a table on the far side of Vixen’s.
“You first,” Rick said. “After all, I am a gentleman.”
Olivia sashayed away, purposefully swinging her hips, and Rick trailed after her with his gaze blatantly glued to her bottom.
Fuck me. Assholes gonna asshole.