Page 24 of Working for Him

Caleb

The Union Hall reckoning happens on a Saturday morning, which means Gus planned it so the entire crew could watch me get called out.

Chairs have been arranged in a circle, and there’s coffee brewing in the ancient percolator that only comes out for serious meetings. I know what's happening the second I walk in.

"Sit down, Caleb," Gus says, steel in his voice.

"We're here because our site supervisor decided to take a stand against the city regarding the safety consultant's contract, and that decision affects all of us," Gus says once I've sat. "I support Caleb's decision. Rena Black has done good work, but supporting the decision and acknowledging the consequences are two different things."

He turns to me directly. "You've been a damn good site supervisor, Caleb. But you've also got a pattern of carrying weight alone, of making decisions without bringing your crew into the conversation. Did you talk to your crew before you called Burke? Or did you just decide you knew what was right and damn the consequences?"

"I made the decision I thought was necessary to maintain site safety," I say.

"Nobody's arguing that," Marcus speaks up. "But you're not bringing us into the process. We're a crew, not just bodies following orders."

"And you're distracted," Tommy adds, nervous but determined. "More focused on protecting the consultant than protecting the project."

The accusation stings because there's truth in it.

"Maybe you’re protecting her because she matters personally, and you're telling yourself it's about the work so you don't have to examine your motivations," Gus says quietly.

"Maybe both," I admit. "Maybe I'm protecting her because she matters personally and because she's good at her job, and both things can be true."

"When they conflict, which one wins?" Gus presses. "The crew, or her?"

"The crew comes first," I say. "Always. That's the job."

"And her?"

"She fits, separately from the work but connected to it. I'm still figuring out how to balance those things without compromising either."

"That's fair," Gus says, surprising me. "More honest than I expected. But you can't keep walking the line without eventually falling off one side or the other."

"Why can't I have both? Why does caring about someone mean I'm automatically compromised professionally?"

"Because you're human," Gus replies. "And humans make different decisions when someone they love is involved."

Love. The word hangs in the air like an accusation and a recognition all at once.

"For what it's worth, boss," Tommy says, "we like her. If you're going to go down swinging for someone, she's a good choice." A few others nod.

"Doesn't mean you get to make these decisions alone going forward," Gus adds, firm but not unkind. "You're part of a crew. Start acting like it."

"You're right. I should've talked to you all before I called Burke."

"Damn right you should've," Gus says. "So here's what's going to happen. You start communicating better, and you trust that your crew has your back even when things get complicated."

The meeting breaks up with pats on my shoulder and quiet words of support. When it's just me and Gus left, he asks, "You love her?"

"Yeah. I do."

"She know?"

"Not yet."

"Caleb." He puts a weathered hand on my shoulder. "Complicated is when you need to say it most. When things are easy, words are cheap. When things are hard, they're what hold you together."

I drive to my place knowing Rena's there, probably stress-documenting reports. When I walk in, I find her curled on the couch in one of my old t-shirts.