Mateo closes the door before flopping on the couch with his coffee in his hands. “What are you looking for?” He asks, watching me.
“All the bills,” I tell him.
Mateo sips his coffee. “What’s left is on the desk, I did the rest already,” Mateo comments, making me look at him.
“You paid them?” I ask him, knowing I had my card on me and the business cards used for pack business.
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get a hold of you, and some were overdue,” he adds, shrugging.
“Please tell me you didn’t use your own money, Mateo, you should have left them, I would have done it when I got home,” I scold him, now going to the filing cabinet to find the receipts. I am a little baffled. Usually, I handled all pack finances, no one ever wanted to help. I even had three accountants quit before I started do
