Page 20 of Working for Him

Caleb:

How'd it go?

Me:

About as well as expected. They're "discussing it," which means they're trying to figure out how to override me without looking negligent.

Caleb:

Want me to come get you?

Me:

Come get me. I need a friendly face and possibly alcohol.

He doesn't say much when I climb into his truck, just squeezes my hand before pulling away. The silence is comfortable, I know it’s because Caleb knows that I need quiet more than conversation.

"They're going to fight me on this," I finally say. "I could see it in their faces."

"Probably. But you're right. The structure's compromised. Anyone who actually looks at your documentation can see that."

"Being right doesn't always matter. Sometimes politics wins over engineering, and people get hurt because it was more convenient to ignore the problem."

His hand finds mine again. "Not this time. Not on my watch."

"Caleb, you can't fight my battles for me."

"I'm not. I'm fighting our battle. This is my site, my responsibility. You're giving me the information I need to do that. If the city wants to override both of us, they're going to have to go through a lot more than one consultant."

The solidarity in those words makes my throat tight. "You could lose your job over this."

"So could you. But we're both still here, aren't we?"

"Take me home," I say quietly. "To yours. I need to not think about this for a few hours."

We barely make it inside before I'm on him, needing the physical release after a day of managing everything else. It's fast, desperate, both of us shedding clothes in a trail toward the bedroom, and afterward, tangled together and breathing hard, some of the day's tension finally drains from my shoulders.

"Better?" he asks eventually.

"Much better. You're very good at distraction."

We lie there a while, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "What happens if they override you?" he finally asks.

"I document everything and prepare to finish my contract early. If they're not going to listen to safety recommendations, there's no point in me being here."

His arm tightens around me. "And us? What happens to us if you leave?"

The question hangs there, heavy with everything we've been carefully avoiding. "I don't know," I admit, because lying would be worse than uncertainty.

"Then maybe it's time to figure that out. Before circumstances force the decision."

"Can we table this for tonight? I promise we'll talk about it soon."

"We can table it," he agrees. "But soon, Rena. We need to figure this out before external circumstances make the decision for us."

"I know," I say, pressing closer. "Soon. I promise."

CHAPTER 13