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Tanner wasted no time going over to chat with her when they rejoined us at the center of camp. Meanwhile, I struggled with the tent Isla brought—a large, ridiculous contraption that would take a whole crew an entire day to set up. Tanner made the girls laugh, and I nearly threw a metal pole at a tree. As a longtime friend of Isla’s, I know he’s a good guy, which is precisely why I don’t think it was a good idea that Isla invited him here this weekend. He’s had a crush on her for years and she’s dangled him on a string. Now, maybe he’s sick of waiting around, because he’s made it perfectly obvious he’s into Taylor.
He asked me about her while we set up.
“So she works for you? That must be interesting.”
“Why would it be interesting?” I asked blankly, focusing on the forty-five-page instruction manual that came with Isla’s tent. It might as well have been in Chinese. I work in construction and still had no idea what I was doing.
“Oh just because, I mean…she’s obviously attractive.”
“It hasn’t been an issue. Hand me that stake, will you?”
A few minutes passed before he steered the conversation back to her. “So is she dating anyone?”
“Why would I know the answer to that?”
“I thought you two were friends.”
I could tell from the break in his voice that I was making the guy sweat, so I decided to ease up. “She’s my employee, Tanner. If you’re curious about her relationship status, you’ll have to ask her.”
That must be exactly what he planned to do because after Brody and I finished grilling chicken for dinner, Tanner snatched up the seat beside Taylor at the table in the mess hall. Right now, they’re at one end and I’m at the other.
We’re all digging into our meals. Conversation flows around the table, except for near me.
Brody passes me a beer and I give him a thankful nod while I pop the tab and take a long drink. When I go to set it back down, I look up just in time to see Taylor unleash a devastating smile aimed at Tanner. He leans closer to say something. She blushes and shakes her head and then Isla joins in, laughing alongside them.
The aluminum crinkles in my hand and I immediately loosen my grip when I get a few curious stares. I’m quickly encroaching on Hulk territory.
“I’d love to take a tour of the jobsite after we finish dinner, Ethan,” Camille says with a seductive lilt. I glance down beneath the table, notice she’s still wearing those ridiculous shoes, and shake my head.
“My partners would kill me if I let you guys get near the site without wearing closed-toe shoes, not to mention it’s already dark. There’s nothing to see.”
She pouts and goes back to pushing potato salad around on her plate. “Maybe tomorrow morning then.”
“Oh, actually…” Isla says, loudly enough to catch everyone’s attention. “I was thinking it’d be fun to spend the day at the lake tomorrow. The weather’s supposed to be really warm and Brody brought some speakers so we can set up music. Plus I have a volleyball net if we want to play.”
“It’s not a good idea,” I protest with a sharp tone. It’s best to take a firm stance when dealing with Isla. “It’s too close to the site.”
A small voice speaks up from the other end of the table, a voice I’ve come to know all too well. “It’s actually totally safe if we stay on the right side, closer to the edge of the clearing near the forest. All the framing supplies are piled up neatly on the other side of the lake and there—”
“There could still be debris scattered around there.”
I expect that to be the end of the conversation, but then she continues, “I’ve never seen anything like that when I go—”
“Go where?” I ask with a bite to my tone, my gaze crashing into hers across the table. She swallows past a lump in her throat, and for one brief second I don’t think she has the courage to continue down this path in front of everyone. Then she surprises me by lifting her chin and speaking clearly.
“To swim.”
“Swim? On the weekends when you’re not even supposed to stay here, you mean?”
She shrugs in an act of defiance. “Don’t pretend to be angry with me now. You already know I stay here.”
Her cavalier expression only heightens my anger.
“Yes, but I wrongly assumed you had enough sense to stay away from the site. What would happen if you stepped on a nail or some other piece of scrap metal lying around? Your phone doesn’t even work!”
My voice is nearly booming now as I imagine her out here all alone, bleeding. A nail in the foot might not seem so bad, but if she were out here for two days by herself with no way to see a doctor or get stitches…
