FIRST THING MONDAY at work, I stopped in the break room for a cup of coffee. Our dry spell ended overnight with sideways rain and high winds. Tree branches had been dropping all over the island and power outages were likely if the storm ended up being as bad as the doomsday weathermen forecasted. At least this week my work was inside the hull of the tugboat, a small blessing.
Pouring coffee into my mug, my ears perked at the sound of soft cursing and the muffled thump of folders landing on the carpet in the hall a few feet away.
Idaho stood there staring at me. I smiled and she dropped to her knees to pick up the papers around her feet.
“Morning,” I said with a smile, liking the vision of her on her knees.
“Hi,” she mumbled, not making eye contact. That I didn’t like.
We hadn’t discussed how to deal with working at the yard together. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but we probably should’ve discussed not making it a big deal. She came to me and I gave her what she wanted. In my eyes, that made us even-steven.
“Hey.” I squatted down to help her.
“It’s fine. Don’t help.” She snatched the papers from my hand.
“Hey.” I tried again.
This time she allowed her gaze to land on my face. I waited while she slowly made her way up from my mouth to my eyes. “We’re okay, right?”
If she was having regrets, I needed to know, so I could make it right.
Her slow exhale brushed across my face. She blinked a few times and then straightened her spine in resolve. “We’re fine.”
“Good.” Standing, I reached my hand down to help her up.
“I got it.” She rose and stepped away. A minute passed before she spoke again. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You know.”
“My pleasure.” And it had been. Frozen images of her above and beneath me from the other night flashed through my mind. I smiled at the memory and skimmed my index finger over my lips. “Anytime.”
Her mouth fell open before she clamped it shut. “It was a one-time thing.”
“Never say never.” I handed her the pen she’d dropped. “You know where to find me.”
She shook her head and walked down the hall. I let my eyes land on her ass. No jacket today. Not one to deny myself, I dropped my gaze to her long legs and thanked whoever invented the idea of tight jeans.
Someone cleared his throat beside me. Al from the main office stood there. Clearly, I’d been busted.
“Tom, do we need to go over the fraternization policy?” he asked.
“No, not an issue.”
“Good to hear. The last thing this company needs is another sexual harassment accusation.”
I nodded. I had a couple cousins who thought the last name Donnely meant they were above the law around here. Sadly, to save the family name and pride, Pops had bailed them out more than once. He had a three strikes rule: first time, you were probably a dumb-ass; second time, you were stupid; third time, better learn from your mistakes. There were probably twenty first and countless second cousins, and only two had ever made it to the third strike: Bob had served time; and Clark served as a state representative down in Olympia.
“How’s she working out?” I gestured down the hall to where Idaho had disappeared.
“She’s one hell of a project manager. I think she’ll get us there under budget and early.”
Figured she was smart, too. “Good. I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”
“So I observed.” His voice was serious.
I faltered. “I meant around the rest of the guys.”
“I know what you meant, but honestly, she doesn’t need it. The woman can hold her own. Saw her put Stan in his place so fast he didn’t realize what had happened until the end of lunch.”
Go, Idaho.