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you?”
    â€œThat’s what makes it so exciting.” Jon hesitated. “You ever going to get married?”
    â€œLook who’s talking! Wasn’t your last date that public defender who only went out with you to try to get information to save her client?”
    Jon’s face hardened. “Yes.”
    â€œShe should have known better. I thought she was a little young for you.”
    â€œTwenty-two, to my thirty, almost thirty-one. That’s not so much.”
    â€œIt’s a generation.” Marquez chuckled. “But she had an agenda.”
    â€œIt almost got her disbarred.”
    â€œAt least you didn’t have her taken out of your office in handcuffs.”
    â€œThat woman was a call girl,” Jon snapped. “I can’t eventell you what she did, and in my own damned office! It was all my mother’s fault.”
    â€œCursing in a federal office is not correct behavior and could get you censured by the SAC, sir,” Joceline’s blithe tone came over the phone.
    â€œStop eavesdropping!” Jon railed at her.
    â€œAnd raising your voice is another infraction of the rules of common courtesy,” she reminded him.
    â€œJoceline!” he growled.
    â€œThere’s a public defender out here who wants to speak to you.”
    Jon hesitated. Marquez was chuckling softly.
    â€œOh, not that one,” Joceline replied at once, with a laugh in her tone. “This one is male and quite handsome.”
    Why did that anger him? “I’ll see him in a minute. Send him to the canteen and show him where the coffeepot is.”
    â€œThat would be a menial chore, sir,” Joceline replied blithely. “As you know, I don’t perform menial chores. It’s not in my job description.” She hung up.
    Jon slammed his hand on the desk. “One day I’ll have you hung on the flagpole!” he growled.
    â€œTemper, temper,” Joceline said, sticking her head in the door. “You’ll ruin the finish on your desk. I asked Agent Barry to show the visitor to the coffee.” She gave him a smug look. “Apparently agents don’t mind making coffee. Is that in your job description?”
    He picked up a magazine and hefted it, with glittery black eyes.
    She closed the door with a snap. “Assault with a deadly weapon…!” came through it.
    â€œA gaming magazine isn’t a deadly weapon!”
    â€œGaming magazines are against agency policy…” Curses ensued.
    â€œSir!” Joceline exclaimed haughtily.
    Jon actually groaned. Marquez was laughing outrageously.
    â€œOne day I’ll pour my lunch over her head,” Jon muttered.
    â€œMake sure it’s something delicious,” Marquez suggested. “I’ll let you get back to the wars. Just wanted to make sure you knew about Monroe.”
    â€œThanks. I really mean it.”
    â€œHey, what are friends for?” the other man asked. “See you.”
    He hung up.
    Jon glared at the closed door before he got up and opened it.
    Joceline was sitting at her desk, looking angelic. His indignant expression made her bite her lower lip. It would never do to laugh.
    The public defender, a slender young man with his blond hair neatly trimmed, came down the hall carrying a plastic cup with black coffee in it. He made a face.
    â€œDon’t you have anybody here who can make a decent cup of coffee?” he complained. “You could take rust off old cars with this stuff.”
    â€œI make excellent coffee,” Joceline said dryly.
    The visitor looked at her. “Why aren’t you making it, then?”
    â€œIt’s not in my job description, sir,” she said with a vacant smile. “I don’t do menial tasks.”
    â€œYou’re his secretary, and you won’t make him coffee?”
    â€œI am not a secretary, I’m an administrative assistant and a paralegal,” Joceline corrected. “And Mr. Blackhawk