by Amelia Jade
“Did they send a corporate bigwig out yet?” he asked, looking over Vince’s bald head and scanning the interior of the office.
“Yes.”
It was hard not to smirk at the way Vince seemed to shrink, but Lex, being the polite and non-vindictive person he was, found it easy not to. Okay, so he simply held it in until later, but that was close enough! Whoever they’d sent must be getting under his skin. That meant they were either better at his job than him, or simply a micro-manager higher up on the pecking order who had decided to shove Vince out of the way.
In Lex’s opinion, either one was an improvement. Did he mention he didn’t have much faith, trust, or confidence in Vince on a regular day? Let alone with the disaster-scale event they were dealing with now.
“What are you waiting for?” Vince snapped.
Lex fought back the urge to tear the shorter, fatter, and hairier man’s throat out. In the wild he would have had this man submitting to his authority in seconds. That was his domain though. This was the corporate world, a place where sniveling, manipulative politicians like Vince succeeded, when they shouldn’t. If Lex wanted to remain, and do what good he could for Surrey, then he needed to avoid doing things like beating his superior into a bloody pulp.
Instead he simply flexed his arms, watching as Vince slowly clued in to the demonstration of power as knuckles and joints cracked. Knowing he was safe from physical violence because he was “superior” to Lex, Vince didn’t cower as he should have. But he did go a little whiter in the face. That was good enough for Lex.
“Work orders.”
“What?”
Lex rolled his eyes, but Vince was too busy looking around at the barely constrained chaos that was the office around them to notice.
“You asked what I was waiting for,” he said patiently. “The answer is work orders. Usually I get them on a clipboard, so that I can write things down as I finish them. You know, pink papers with places I need to go to do my job written on them.”
Vince scowled. “The head office bitch is handling those. Said she wanted to ensure it was done properly.” He snorted. “As if she thinks I don’t know my own town well enough to deal with this.”
Lex decided telling Vince that he didn’t know Surrey well enough to deal with something like this, but that was probably not the best course of action. So he just shrugged and pretended like he didn’t care. “Okay,” was all he said.
“Well? Why are you still standing here?”
He inhaled deeply and counted to three, which was likely the only thing that prevented him from picking Vince up by the neck, slamming him into the nearest wall, and letting his eyes go yellow while he tore a strip or three from the man so that he could learn his place.
“Where. Do I. Find. Her.” He spoke slowly, punctuating the words as he went. His voice had dropped an octave or so, his anger beginning to show through even his defenses.
Vince drew himself up to his full height. When he realized that barely brought him up to Lex’s throat, he stepped back and lifted his chin aggressively. Lex wanted to laugh at the posturing, but he simply did not have time. Surrey needed him out on the roads, working to restore power. Not giving in to one of his biggest non-sexual fantasies, which involved a closed fist and his boss.
“She’s in my office,” his boss said.
Lex grinned. “Is she moving in?” he asked in a hopeful way, and then walked around Vince before he could recover, leaving the sputtering moron in his wake.
His fist rapped smartly against the door frame. The door itself was open most of the way, revealing a blonde woman sitting at the desk. She was dressed in a white buttoned shirt with a gray vest on top. A matching suit jacket was draped over the chair. He couldn’t see her lower half, but judging by her manner Lex decided it was a tight pencil skirt. The suit was cut with male styling to it, and based on the way her shirt was stretched across her upper body, he could figure out why.
She looked up at his knock, and he blinked as the brightest pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen glared daggers at him.
“What do you want…?” She paused, making it clear she didn’t know his name.
“Oh,” Lex said, fumbling in a pocket, pulling out a white plastic rectangle and pinning it to his chest. “Lex,” he said, tapping the nametag and smiling dumbly.
He disliked people who power-tripped, and this woman had that written all over her face in capital letters.
Her eyes went from the bright blue of the sky to the cold arctic glacier in a nanosecond.
Oh, this is too easy.
“What do you want?”
The pointed insult by not using the name he’d just provided was clear, but he didn’t care.
“I was told to report to you.”
She wanted to play games? He could play games.
The hiss of air through clenched teeth was audible even to him, ten feet away at the door to Vince’s appropriated office. Lex knew he shouldn’t be giving in, but damn if he wasn’t getting sick of these managers thinking they were the best thing ever. He’d love to see them out doing the actual work, instead of just organizing things and pretending like they cared about the little guy.
“Who told you to report to me?” she ground out.
“My boss.”
It took a real effort not to smile in her face.
“Does your boss have a name?”
Lex frowned. “Well of course he has a name. Who doesn’t have a name?”
The pencil in her hand cracked. Perfect, he was getting under her skin. His head tilted slightly to the side as she sat up in the chair, finally giving him her full attention. He studied her while she took several deep breaths. Truth be told, she was rather pretty looking now that she was all steamed up. He enjoyed the way her cheeks turned red. It offset the strict and severe look she had going on.
He wondered if she suffered from Resting Bitch Face, or if she’d worked hard at it.
“And what is his name?”
“Vince,” he supplied cheerfully.
“I see. Why did Vince tell you to come see me?”
“He said you were doing his job.”
Lex thought she was going to explode. The steam coming out of her ears was almost visible. He dropped the dumb smile and gave the woman a calm stare. Part of him wanted to tell her that she should relax and smile more. Nobody should be that cold. Those same eyes tracked the change in his face and her jaw clenched some more, but she didn’t say anything.
“I need work orders,” he said, capitulating now that it was clear she was aware he was purposefully messing with her.
“Your name?”
He almost started all over again, but he decided against it. There were people who needed his help. Playing games wasn’t going to get them power any time soon.
“Lex, but it’s probably filed under Alexander Cronus.”
A stack of pink sheets was snatched up into one hand and shoved at him rigidly. Lex stepped forward, took the papers, smoothing them out until he could grab a clipboard to put them on.
“Thank you,” he said politely and retreated from the room before she could say any more.
Corporate. I hate those stuck-up pricks.
3. The Plan
Petal
I hate hillbillies.
After several minutes of attempting to focus on the task in front of her after Lex had departed she pushed herself back from the desk and closed her eyes. It irritated her just how easily he’d gotten under her skin. At first she’d just thought him some big, bright-eyed bushy-tailed idiot. But it had become quite obvious after he’d dropped the little act that he had, in fact, been toying with her.
Petal hated that he’d managed to do so with ease. Never once did she stop to try and understand why. Instead her rage simply focused on the fact that he’d had the gall to do that to her. Her! The Southern Coastal Operations Director! Did he have any idea how far above him in the food chain she was? She could have him tossed out the door before lunch if she so c
hose. They needed all the workers they could get, but after the crisis was over, she made a mental note to have a word with Vince about Lex’s continued service to Western Hydro. Or lack thereof.
Relax, Petal. That’s over-reaching by a mile, and you know it. Just get the job done, then leave this country hellhole and head back home. You’ll be fine then.
She ground her teeth together, admitting the truth of it. She’d been there but a few hours, spending the bare minimum to check in to the hotel and then get over to the office. But even in that time she’d been annoyed by the slow nature of everyone around her. This was a full-blown crisis, and yet they were acting like it was business as normal. Everyone moved so slowly! Her horn was going to be worn out by the time she returned the rental car.
“Vince!” she yelled, then frowned at how shrill her voice sounded. Was she losing it already, less than three hours into the day?
The weak-chinned sexist pig came into her office, lips turning up greedily at being wanted.
“Yes, Miss Olson?”
“Director Olson,” she corrected. She’d earned the title, and she was damned if this little prick was going to get away without using it.
“Yes, of course, Director,” he amended.
“When are the rest getting here?”
Her question was greeted by a frown. “What do you mean?”
She pointed angrily at the stack of pink sheets still on her desk. “The other crew leaders. We have work to do!”
Vince looked momentarily perplexed, but he recovered smoothly. “Director Olson, ma’am, we only have four crews. All of them are out working. We’ve never needed more than that at a time. This sort of thing has never happened to Surrey before.”
Petal considered this, before looking at the pink work orders that still needed to be handled. “Well, shit. All right, get a truck ready then.”
Vince’s eyebrows rose. “Ah, what, may I ask, am I getting it ready for?”
She could tell from his tone that he thought her crazy, that there was no way she was actually going to go out in the field and do the work herself. He was right, she wasn’t going to go do it herself.
“We’re going to visit the crews and spur them on to greater effort,” she announced. “They need to know just how serious things are. When the managers visit them in the field, it helps ensure they realize that this is a big deal.”
Somehow it escaped her that with over sixty percent of the roads around town being impassable, most everyone would be well aware of just how serious the situation was.
For a moment she thought he was going to resist, to try and come up with some reason to stay at the office where everything was comfortable and organized. She stared at him, a steady unyielding gaze, until Vince sighed and nodded. “Very well. I’ll page you when the truck is ready.”
“Excellent,” she said in a dismissive tone, looking back down at the various reports sprawled across the desk and computer screen.
It was going to be a long day.
***
“I think that went rather well,” she said, pulling the door closed behind her as they departed from their first visit and headed out to the next nearest crew’s location. “Don’t you agree?”
“Of course,” Vince replied obsequiously.
She was having a hard time determining if he was just a pushover and acting like this to try and garner her favor for possible career advancement, or if he thought it was more likely to get her into bed. Either way it wasn’t working, but the fact that she couldn’t decipher it meant he would probably take either outcome. Or both.
She sat back into her seat as he fired up the engine of the big Hemi-powered truck and started them off to their next site. There wasn’t much more she could have done back at the office, and by getting out into the streets she could show that everyone was doing everything possible to speed up the recovery. More than once she’d stopped to talk to civilians wondering when they would get their power back, reassuring them that they were working as fast as they could, but that there was a lot of damage, and that it would take an unknown amount of time.
It felt good to get out and do something.
A few minutes later they pulled up behind another of the large trucks, its bucket arm extended, with one of the men in orange jumpsuits working at something atop the pole, while two more were cutting up a tree into pieces small enough that they could move from the road.
Petal frowned as she stepped out of the car.
“What are you doing?” she asked, stepping up to the two men. They saw her safety vest and nearly unused hardhat and killed the chainsaws. At least they could recognize a superior when they saw one.
“Pardon me, ma’am?”
“I said, what are you doing?” She motioned at the tree with one hand.
“Clearing the road,” he stated, sounding confused, as if it were obvious.
“I can see that,” she snapped, reminded of her earlier interaction with Lex. “Why are you doing it? Don’t give me any stupid answer either.”
“Well, ma’am, right now we’re waiting on the line to be affixed up there, so that we can rerun it to that pole over there.” He pointed up, where the orange-clad worker in the bucket was working on something she couldn’t see, then across the street to another pole.
“So why aren’t you running it over to that pole there then?” she asked, as if the question were obvious.
“Because, ma’am,” he said, sounding exasperated. “You don’t attach both lines at the same time. You can do all kinds of things wrong, including having the wire the wrong length, or connecting it to a live feed by accident. One at a time.”
Above them the bucket began to descend.
She frowned. “I see. I’m sure there’s more productive things you could be doing with your time.” She pointed down the road. “I see another branch on the line there.”
“Yes, ma’am. There are three more on this street before the next intersection. We’re working as fast as we can. But—”
They were interrupted by the man in the bucket. “But there’s only one bucket per truck, and we only have one truck. So how could he get up there and clear the branch while the bucket is in use?”
She spun, looking up at the lowered bucket as the familiar man in it climbed out and dropped ten feet to the ground like it was nothing. Apparently he was as athletic as he was in good shape. Neither of the two men with him blinked an eye at his actions. They must be used to it.
“Hello, Alexander,” she said, trying to keep the sourness from her voice.
“Name’s Lex,” he replied gruffly, slapping his gloved hands together. Tiny bits of metal and possibly plastic shavings flew everywhere, including right at her. The debris bounced off the orange jumpsuits, but it stuck in her hair and vest. “Oh, sorry about that.”
She grimaced.
“What can we do ya for, miss?” he asked.
“Vince and I are out visiting the work crews.”
Lex’s facial expression didn’t change. He stood still, looking right at her. Petal stared right back. Eventually he seemed to gather that she was done speaking.
“I can see that,” he replied, removing his hardhat.
Her shoulders tightened. How did he do that? How did he manage to get under her skin so easily? She glared at him, but the look seemed to just wash right off his face. His dark green eyes, the color of the forest canopy at twilight, seemed entirely unaffected by anything she did. They stared right at her, possibly even through her. It was a rather unsettling effect. There was a wildness to this man, she realized, an untamed nature. The dark brown hair on his head was a sign of that, an unruly mess, the length perhaps of a finger, pushed all to one side but messed up by his hardhat.
As she tried to stare him down, Petal realized for the first time just how tall he was. When she’d seen him earlier she’d been at her desk, and the height difference hadn’t been nearly as evident. Now though, standing on her own feet, her neck arched backward so that she could look up
at him. It was a disadvantage she was used to, however, and not one that would put her off stride any further than she already was.
“Well, we wanted to ensure that everyone was working hard, and that things were getting accomplished.”
“We always work hard, don’t we boys?”
“Of course, boss,” the other two workers replied in chorus.
“See,” Lex said with a smile. “Working hard.” Then he frowned. “At least, they were. Why did you stop them? I asked them to clear the tree here from the street while I was up fixing the line. It should have been done by now.”
Petal clenched one hand into a fist. “Clearing the road is not your job.”
“Power Line Worker Handbook. Section Two. Subsection Three-A. And I quote: ‘The crew leader shall determine which objects constitute a threat to the integrity of the lines and all associated areas, including but not limited to poles, connectors, and transformers.’” He grinned at her. “In my estimation, this tree is a threat. If someone were to hit it just right, they could turn it, driving the trunk into that pole, and possibly damaging the lines.”
He gestured at the pole in question. Petal wanted to roll her eyes. The feasibility of someone actually doing just that was out of this world. But he was correct; the crew leader was best suited and given final say on what could and couldn’t be removed.
“Besides,” Lex said, stepping closer to her and dropping his voice. “They couldn’t do anything anyway until I was finished hooking up the line. If you hadn’t interrupted, they would have been done and we could be halfway to hooking up the other end of the new line already. They needed work, and this helps us in the eyes of the residents. That way they feel better about our services, and will bitch less about the exorbitant prices you corporate jerks charge. Now, if you don’t mind, ma’am, please go back to the office where you belong, and stop bothering me, my men, and my other crews. We have a job to do, and all you’re doing is slowing us down. Got it?”
He spoke low enough so that only Petal could hear, but it had to be obvious to anyone watching that she was being dressed down. She seethed at her treatment by this lowly line worker, and considered returning the favor, including telling him to pack his stuff and go home, that he was done with Western Hydro. But she couldn’t. One of the first things she’d done upon arriving was review the crew leaders. Lex was not only the senior most, but according to all reports, he was also the most liked, and most knowledgeable. Firing him would not be productive. Right now she needed to be as productive as possible. The quicker she was able to solve this crisis, the better she would look to her superiors back at the head office. A raise, or even a promotion was on the line here. She had to handle this properly.
