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Turning back towards the rest of the men, he shouts, “I will not put up with any disrespect of Ms. Simon on my crew. If ya got a problem with that, then pack your ass home. If not, then keep your ass in that seat ‘til she tells ya to get to work! If you don’t mind, Ms. Simon, I have to get back underground.” Colton’s eyes lock on mine, holding my gaze, and melting my soul as he nods and leaves the conference room.
“Carly, I don’t agree with Cooper’s disrespect of his supervisors, but Weston got out of hand. We can’t have employees, hell a Superintendent of all things, goin’ around knockin’ men on their ass.” Mack says, one of Daddy’s favorite old miners. Mack has been with Simon Energy for as long as I can remember.
“Mack, I’ll handle Superintendent Weston. Let it be. As for the debate of ‘paying off Inspectors’,” I mock sarcastically with air quotes, “there will be no discussion of such. Simon Energy will be a safe mines. If the Inspectors find violations, then we will fix them. I don’t give a damn if I have to hire a frickin’ crew just to work on violations twelve frickin’ hours a day. No damn Inspectors will be paid off. That’s how miners lose their lives, do y’all understand that? Safety FIRST. Now, get your asses to work.”
Kicking back the large leather chair, I stand and gather my things. As the men begin to fall out of the conference room, I notice that Mack is hanging back. As I walk past, I offer a kind smile, “What’s on your mind, old timer?”
“Girl, you better watch yourself. These here men, they ain’t too happy that a woman’s their boss, ya know.” Reaching my arm around to embrace him, I laugh at the comment.
“Oh Mack, you know I ain’t worried about these miners. They’re here because they have a job to do, and I’m supplying them with that job. Sons of bitches better be grateful! I ain’t got time for their shit, and I won’t put up with the disrespect. But I do appreciate you looking out for me.” I reply, patting him lightly on the back.
“Ah hell, I shoulda known you’d be just as stubborn as that old jackass, Big John. But I’m glad you’ve got tough guts, girl. That’s what it’s gonna take to keep this place goin’, ya know. I’ll keep my ear to the ground.” Mack says with a wink and leaves the conference room.
Back in my office, I kick my boots off beside of the desk, then flop down in the leather chair. Tossing my feet up on the desk, I lean back, and release a pent up puff of air. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I wonder what in the hell I have gotten myself into. I massage the bridge of my nose, willing the headache that teases behind my eyes, to dissipate. The phone rings, interrupting the brief silence. Looking at the screen on the receiver, I see that it is only Shelly calling from the front desk. “Yes, Shelly?”
“Ms. Simon, I contacted your attorney, Mr. McCoy, just as you asked, and you have a one-thirty appointment.
“Thank you, Shelly.”
“You’re welcome, Ma’am, is there anything else you need?”
“Tylenol please, and a bottle of water. Thank you again, Shelly.”
“Yes Ma’am, my pleasure.” Shelly adds before disconnecting the receiver.
She enters the office immediately, with a bottle of water and Tylenol, setting them both on my desk before leaving quietly. Tossing the Tylenol back in my throat, I crack the lid on the water and take a drink. I stare up at the ceiling, as the events of the Supervisors meeting play throughout my mind like a broken record.
Colton has always been ill tempered, but I was really shocked at his reaction to Scott simply cussing in my presence. Hell, I grew up around the coal mines. Miners have mouths equivalent to sailors. Colton has always cussed around me. Perhaps it wasn’t the cussing, but just the blatant disrespect for me as his Supervisor, and as a woman? Regardless, Colton Weston has once again left me in shock, and confused. This man never ceases to weave my emotions into a messy web I can’t untangle.
Chapter 14
Colton
Supervisor meetin’s are a bitch. I come into the office a little early this mornin’ to get all of my paperwork together. I don’t want to get on Carly Jo’s bad side any more than what I already am. I sit in the conference room for a short while in peace, goin’ over the
productivity reports, until the other Superintendents and Mine Foreman begin filin’ into the room. Keepin’ my head down, nose in the report, I ignore them all.
They’re all bitchin’ about the recent MSHA visit, and all of the violations we were slammed with. I can already see how this damn meetin’ is gonna go; to hell in a hand basket. Miners are tough sons of bitches, bustin’ our backs from day break to sunset, minin’ coal from the earth to power homes across the country. You’re welcome by the way. But miners bitch about every damn thing under the sun, worse than a bunch of bitchy little girls.
Grumblin’ loudly in annoyance, I stomp to the side counter to refresh my coffee. I’m ready to get this shit over with so I can get underground to check on my crew. It isn’t until I feel her presence that I look up, and the room falls silent. With one look, my heart rate increases, racin’ at a dangerous speed, causin’ my breath to hitch, as if I’m suffocatin’ for my next puff of air.
Takin’ a deep breath, I stare deep into Carly Jo’s sunflower irises. Her presence alone causes me to falter, as my knees quake. That’s proof enough to me that I need her in my arms regardless of our past. It’s just that, behind us, done. I nod, and she shakes her head as she passes by me, dismissin’ me completely. With a smug look of confidence cleanly written across her face, Carly Jo addresses the Superintendents and Mine Foreman.
I take my seat at the opposite end of the table, keepin’ my gaze set on her, as I listen intently. She informs us that she has been sick with the flu, and I wince at the statement, knowin’ that’s a lie. She was sick with heartache, much like I am.
She mentions the MSHA Inspectors, and I shift in my chair to try to gauge the men’s reactions. None of the men are thrilled with the onslaught of violations we’ve been pounded with recently, but every damn mines gets violations; it’s just something we gotta deal with. Of course in every group, there’s a jackass. Scott Cooper speaks up, and immediately tension rises through my chest as I begin to grip the arms of the chair.
I'll be damned if any no good for nothin’ piece of shit is gonna talk to Carly Jo the way Scott Cooper did. Yeah, everybody knows that Big John Simon paid off MSHA inspectors when he was runnin’ Simon Energy. But Big John was an ass wipe and everybody knows that too. Carly Jo ain’t like that. She has dignity, and wants to operate Simon Energy on higher standards than her son of a bitch old man did.
Raisin’ my voice, I give Cooper a warnin’ to back the hell off, but being the bastard that he is, he laughs in my face. Mistake number one. Cooper continues to disrespect Carly Jo, then berates me. Mistake number two. With one final warnin’ to Cooper, my anger progresses, and there’s nothin’ more I can do, than to act on it. In two long strides, I lift the jackass from his seat and knock him on his ass, leavin’ him to crumple in the floor. Pissed in the wind, I toss a Suspension slip on the bastard and excuse myself from the meetin’.
Stompin’ like a pissed grizzly bear, I storm from the office out to the parkin’ lot to clear my head, but just end up pacin’ nervously. Carly Jo has no idea the effect she has on me. I frickin’ can’t take my heart bein’ ripped out of my chest, and stomped on. I want her back. I need her back, in my arms, where she belongs. We both made mistakes, and the only way we can move on, is to move on together.
Shakin’ with rattled nerves, I search the cab of my truck for a pack of cigarettes. I know my pops has left smokes in here, it’s just findin’ ‘em. Turnin’ the truck upside down, tossin’ water bottles and old mail around, I sift through the glove box and fist pump the air in victory when a smashed pack of Marlboro Lights falls to the floor board.
I press the lighter in the truck, and wait impatiently for it to heat up. POP! I snap the lighter from the console, and shake a cigarette loose from the crushed pack, pullin’ it between my lips to light it up. The first drag is deep, and it makes me a little dizzy, but damn it’s good.
I quit smokin’ years ago, and vowed to never pick ‘em up again, but damn my nerves need this sweet release. I take a couple more drags to smooth my tattered nerves. I toss the half smoked cigarette to the ground, and stomp out the embers. Leanin’ my head against the door of the truck, I feel calmer, and more relaxed. I have half the mind to go home sick, but there’s no need to add defeat to my already damaged ego.
