The Accidental Scot Read Online Free PDF

of wire and duct tape.
Another
Christmas tree, this one decorated with plaid bows, sat proudly in the middle of the room. Two old codgers, the same two from the pub last night, stood by a drill press, a flurry of heated words flying between them. They stopped at once.
    The bearded one bobbed. “We’ll be getting back to work now, Pippa.” He eyed Max’s kilt but didn’t act as if it was out of place.
    â€œAye,” said the other one, nodding at the kilt as well.
    â€œYou run a tight ship,” Max muttered, trying not to feel uncomfortable about his attire.
    She nodded. “I keep them on task. Taog, I told you to move the CNC machine in here yesterday.” She had the command of a drill sergeant. “Why haven’t ye?”
    Taog turned red. “The CNC’s too pretty to use.”
    The bearded one laughed. “And Taog’s uglier than his own arse.”
    â€œMurdoch,” Pippa said in warning. “We’ve discussed this before. No more insulting Taog or cursing on the job. I’ll not be having it.”
    â€œAye, lass,” Murdoch said, rubbing his beard. “About the damned CNC machine. Taog keeps it polished up just fine. Not a speck of dust on it.”
    Max was impressed a small operation could afford such an expensive piece of equipment. “Can I take a look at it?”
    Pippa turned to him, seeming irritated. “It’s at the back of the building. I’ll show you.”
    She handed him a hard hat and a pair of earplugs. “Ye’ll need these.” She donned her own hard hat, making it look at home on her head. A funny thought hit him.
She is the sexiest chief engineer I’ve ever seen.
She pushed through another set of doors.
    Max was glad for the ear protection. Conveyor belts clapped, horns blew, and pneumatic drills hissed. Most people would find it annoying, but a wave of nostalgia washed over him. He missed working for the factory and being close to the end product. Now that he’d been promoted, he was a long way from actually making anything, except maybe a deal.
    He scanned the room and once again encountered the bizarre. In one corner sat three pleasure boats on blocks.
    Pippa’s eyes followed to where he looked. “Winter storage rentals,” she hollered over the noise.
    That explains the boats but doesn’t explain the farm’s worth of Christmas trees scattered throughout the factory floor.
    Max focused his energy on the assembly line. He immediately saw ways to streamline their process and make the plant more efficient, just by rearranging things. While she explained the different valves and their applications, he flipped open his notebook and jotted down his recommendations.
    â€œYe better not be stealing our designs,” she warned.
    â€œWouldn’t dream of it.” When they had a quiet moment, Max would share his ideas with her. “And the subsea shutoff valves? Where are they being made?”
    She frowned at him and he knew it was because he’d asked after their Golden Goose. Every oil and gas company in the free world wanted to get a good look at the McDonnell’s design. Perhaps others were being invited here as well. The fact that Pippa had let Max in the front door must mean MTech was in the running. Her glare in his direction, though, said she wasn’t pleased with him or MTech right now.
    She stood tall. “Mock-ups are in my office. Do you want to see the CNC machine or not?” Without giving him a chance to answer, she walked away at a clip.
    Sure enough, in the far corner of the factory sat a very large CNC machine.
    Max gave an appreciative whistle. “What a beaut.” CNC machines were used to build parts with efficiencyand accuracy in manufacturing. He did his best to ignore what they’d done to the poor thing. The CNC was decorated like a damn Christmas tree as well: Garland was swagged around the circumference and an angel was crowning the