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Twenty-six. Sure she is.
“Okay, Jeffrey. You’ve put me in a really awkward position, did you know that?”
She shakes her head frantically. “Please don’t fire me, Mr. Wood.”
Her sweetness tears at my chest. She must really be desperate for a job.
“Call me Wade.”
Out of nowhere, the kid bursts into tears, and her cheeks burn pink. Whoa. I assumed she was very young, but did Nick hire an actual middle school girl?
“Please don’t fire me! I know those guys can be hardasses, but they’re liars. You have to believe me.”
Weird thing to say, but alright. “Listen. Don’t worry about OSHA. We can handle the safety inspectors. You’re not the first person to be injured on the job.”
The girl looks confused. “Inspectors?”
I squint down at her. “How old are you? For real.”
A bottom lip quivers, and I feel guilty for scaring her. “Okay, I’m 20! But I can do this job, I swear!”
I glance down at her Chuck Taylors. “For starters, you don’t have the correct footwear.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I can’t afford the steel-toed boots.”
“We’ll get you some as soon as the doctor checks you out.”
The kid shakes her head and wipes a tear with her forearm, bumping the hard hat. A long chunk of hair falls from under the hat, and she looks up at me with fear in those striking eyes. “I can’t go to the doctor. Gimme one of those forms that says I refused treatment, and I’ll sign it.”
“I sure will, but then I’ll have no choice but to fire you.”
“Dammit!”
Her pitch rises as she’s clearly given up on pretending to be Jeffrey.
I squat in front of her and say, “You know, we do hire women on this crew. We have a strict nondiscrimination clause. There’s no need to pretend to be a man.”
There’s a long standoff until she finally gives in. “Ugh! Okay, listen. I didn’t pretend to be a guy because I was worried you wouldn’t hire me. I gave a fake name and pretended to be a guy because I don’t want anyone harassing you for hiring me.”
She looks over her shoulder in a paranoid kind of way.
I’m not sure what’s happening here, but I’m sure this girl is in trouble.
“You want to tell me in private?”
She nods.
“Okay. Let’s go to my office and have a chat.”
“That would be good,” she sighs in relief.
When the young woman tries to move her foot off the chair, I’m not about to let her. Instead, I scoop her up in my arms and march her to my truck.
“Where are you taking me? The office is that way!”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. We’re gonna get you fixed up.”
CHAPTERTHREE
