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“What Dan is saying, Titan, is that being the Foreman requiresboththings from you. The hard laborandthe paperwork.”
“Are you telling me you don’t have the funds to hire a secretary or some shit? Sounds like a part-time job some college grad might want.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Dan says, sliding back into the conversation. “We have decided to send you some help. It won’t be a permanent position, just someone who can come in and get things cleaned up and help you develop an organization system.”
“I don’t need help,” I growl, my eyes tearing into Dan.
“Clearly, you do. This is not up for negotiation.”
I’ll give him credit. The man has mastered the power glare. “Fine,” I spit out. “Do you have applications for me to go through or something? I can pick someone out in the next week or so.” I’m hoping to delay the hiring process for at least a month, if not longer.
“That won’t be necessary,” he says with a little more levity. “My daughter just graduated with a degree in accounting and computer sciences. She’ll be joining you aboard the ship for the next month.”
“What?” I choke out.
“She’ll tidy up your office, set up organization systems, and assess the quality of office equipment to see if we need to upgrade.”
“No,” I tell him firmly.
“No? Well, let me be perfectly clear, Titan. Either Cora comes aboard and helps get your paperwork under control, or we’ll find a new Foreman.”
I bite my tongue to the point of tasting blood. There are so many things I want to say to this man, but if he’s this serious, I don’t want to risk having him fire me on the spot.
“Do I get a say at all in this?” I ask, my words coming out deep and shaky with pent-up frustration.
“Not anymore.”
“Fine,” I growl. “When does she start?”
“Tomorrow.”
“What the hell, Dan?” I blurt out, standing from my chair and towering over him. “Did you want to give me a heads up?”
“That’s what this meeting is,” he says in a self-satisfied tone. I want to throttle the man, but at the end of the day, he approves my paychecks.
Taking a deep breath, I rein in the litany of curse words I want to hurl his way. None of that will help right now.
“Fine,” I say yet again. None of this is fine, but I don’t have much of a choice. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s–”
I don’t wait for him to finish his sentence before ripping the door open and stomping out of the conference room.
Fucking hell. It’s bad enough having Peter on board, thinking he’s going to run the place soon just because his uncle is a big deal. How will I survive with the daughter of the president following me around? I’m sure she’s never worked a real job in her life.
This is not at all how I thought my day would end up. As I make my way over the bridge connecting to the rig and back down to the drill floor, I can’t get rid of the feeling that everything is about to change.
2
CORA
“Toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, shampoo, conditioner, body wash… what else?” I say to myself.
There’s one more thing. I know it. I’m going to kick myself as soon as I’m stuck on the oil rig boat, or whatever it’s called, and I suddenly remember I need hair ties.
Hair ties!
I leap off my bed, not even caring that I hit my shin on the edge of my giant suitcase. When you’re as accident-prone as I am, you hardly notice the little bangs and bruises here and there. Dashing to my bathroom, I gather up two dozen hair ties, along with bobby pins and a few headbands.
