CHAPTER THREE

Nine Days to Deadline

 

 

Why in the world did I let myself walk straight into that man’s trap yesterday? Sure, I want a story for my blog, but I have other important responsibilities that need time and attention, too. Organic grapefruit groves don’t harvest themselves.

And yet here I am, my rattiest pair of jeans tucked into my favorite steel-toed cowboy boots, toting a sack lunch I’ll presumably eat at midnight, on a job I know next to nothing about, have no skills for, working for a man I just met, who’s quiet to the point of surly, and whose relentless assertiveness is both a caution and a turn-on.

Yeah, and what’s that about? The man is a sexy drink of water, no two ways about it. Just the sight of him makes the world fall away, everything hanging in suspended animation, dangerously calm, like the Earth taking a big breath right before a tornado strikes. Mmm, what would it be like to kiss him?

Get a grip, girl! It’s one thing to want to roll around in the hay with him, and quite another to end up working for him. I’m still not sure how that happened. One minute I’m seeing red because he’s treating me like an empty-headed child, and the next I’m signing on to his crew, assuring him I can handle anything he dishes out.

And I better be able to, because I don’t think Aunt Bink was too pleased when I told her what I’d be doing for the next couple of weeks. We had other things planned that now I don’t know if I can fit into my schedule. Things that are particularly important this year, since I’m taking over the harvest for the first time.

The security building looms, and I make sure my badges are prominently displayed. What the hell am I doing on a construction site, pulling all-nighters for the next ten days? The last time I pulled an all-nighter was finals week, senior year of college. I shake my head at myself and pull open the heavy glass door.

“Hey, Red!”

A voice like chocolate syrup pulls me out of my self-flagellation. Looking around to find the face that goes with the greeting, I spot a girl I knew in high school. “Nola?”

She grins and waves from the other side of the full-body scanner. An armed guard puts my name badge through a machine while I lay my brief case on the conveyor belt and step through the scanner.

When the guard hands back my badge, I clip it onto my lanyard. “You are Nola De La Garza, right?”

“I sure am. Good memory. Nice to see you. I couldn’t believe it when I found out you were going to be working for AI during wrap-up.”

She was always a nice girl, friendly, easy to be around. I grab my briefcase and join her. “AI? Oh, AmerItalia, got it. How’d you hear about it? It just happened yesterday.”

Leading the way down a hall to another glass door, she shrugs a shoulder under a bright orange t-shirt highlighting her smooth tan. “Your boss called my boss, asking for somebody on the night shift to show you around.”

My boss. Jack. Mr. Tall, Dark, Handsome. A bad boy who likes to curl into you on the dance floor. A mental slideshow begins and my body quickens before I ruthlessly shut them both down. “And here we are. Do you work in the office, too?”

“No, I’m a painter.”

“That sounds interesting. When you finish here, the main building conference room could use a new coat of paint. Something other than sandy beige would be nice, I think.”

Her laugh is throaty and contagious. “I know, yeah? It’s the worst. A cross between newborn poop and Desert Storm.”

“Yep, that’s just about right. But I’m guessing that’s not the kind of painting you do.”

“Only in my own house. Here I get to paint rust inhibiting stuff that smells like burned rubber mixed with alcohol.”

“Lucky you. Sounds dangerous.”

“Can be. We wear masks and suit up to paint. But it is a construction site. Almost everything is dangerous around here. But it’s a decent living.”

“That’s good, assuming you get to keep your life.”

She laughs again, and I grin back at her. “We follow lots of safety rules, so it’s not that big a deal. You’ll see.”

I hadn’t thought about it, but if I’m going to interview the guys, I need to see what they do, how they handle things. The best way for me to get a feel for their lives is for me to live it. Even if it means suiting up and exposing myself to the same dangers.

“I’ll show you where I’ll most likely be in case you need to come ask a question or something. Here, let’s get going.” Nola pushes open the door and holds it for me.

Yeah, the Boss Man wouldn’t like it if I were late on my first day—er, night—of work. But it might be entertaining to see what anger looks like on him.

We step out into the evening heat again, onto a gravel path leading to the work site. My heartbeat picks up from excitement of the unknown.

Nola’s dark ponytail swings jauntily as she gobbles up the distance. Considering how much shorter she is than I am, her pace is impressive. People pass us coming away from the site, looking dusty and tired, but nobody going our direction catches up to us.

“By the way, I met your boss yesterday.” She glances over at me and waggles her brows. “You’re a lucky woman. He’s finer’n my daddy’s prize stallion.”

I control my snort. “He’s easy on the eyes, all right. Don’t know what kind of boss he’ll be, though.”

“Too soon for me to tell. He doesn’t say much. But he stays right in the thick of things with the crews. I like that. And his crew seems to like him.”

Good things to know. Something to make note of for the article.

In spite of the pace, Nola’s not finished interviewing me. “What will you be working on? Are you normally part of his crew?”

The plant is expanding in perspective with every step closer. I had no idea how large the old refinery was. “Administrivia, I think. And, no, I’m not part of the regular AI crew.”

“Felix is glad you’re here. He even switched to nights.”

I shot her a startled glance. “Why ever for?”

Nola’s nose crinkles when she grins. “For you.”

Wonderful. The last thing I need is Felix acting like an excited puppy, interfering with my talking to the AmerItalia crew. “Naw, that can’t be right. He’s the pipefitter supervisor, right? Maybe he’s needed on a project that’s better done at night.” Boy, that didn’t come out right.

She winks. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

“Huh?”

“He’s always had a thing for you, but if you don’t feel the same about him, then he’s fair game.”

No way am I getting involved with any of my brothers’ friends, even if I liked one that way. My family’s already too intrusive on my life. “Totally fair game. Go for it.”

“And you’ll be taking care of the fine Mr. DePaul?”

Her look is open, playful, but my gut suddenly feels like I swallowed a rock. “Is that what you think?”

“Is it true?”

Oh, this isn’t good. “Nola, I’m here to do a job. That’s all.”

She holds up her hands in surrender. “Just kidding. When the rumor mill starts grinding, don’t worry, I’ll straighten ‘em out.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“But, just in case, be careful. Remember that in this tight, little world, eyes are always watching, and ears are always listening.”