by J. A. Dennam
Oh yeah, burnt out fluorescents. There were...looking up at the rows of lights, she counted...four? No, five.
“The box of tubes is over there,” Tom said, entering the building behind her. “I’ll get you a ladder.”
Her lip curled in distaste. A ladder. She hated the damned things. They were too unstable, especially with no one on the ground that she trusted. “I can get up there without a ladder if you want to just hand me the tubes.”
Not again. Did the girl ever learn? “Might not be a good idea given how your last climb turned out.”
The reminder stung. Dryly, she replied, “Why, does he have this building rigged, too?”
Tom wasn’t about to deny it, but he wasn’t going to confirm it, either. He’d always thought young Austin had crossed a line in order to pursue this destructive path toward revenge. “Help yourself, then,” he conceded, stepping back to give her the lead. “But wouldn’t it Cwous des be easier with a ladder?”
The two rows of lights hung high from a sturdy truss system. Danny was more comfortable up there, relying on what was proven solid. “It’s faster without one,” was the excuse she settled on.
Finding secure footing on a set of steel shelves, she was able to advance to the top of the wall and reach one of the trusses that vaulted upward toward the ridge. The zigzag supports offered solid grips and she reached the first fixture in no time.
Someone walked in just as Tom climbed a few steps of the ladder, reached high for a long tube that dangled eerily from the ceiling. Flummoxed, the man squinted toward the rafters, saw her hooked up there working upside down. “Holy cow, Tom, Boss ain’t gonna like that.”
Tom handed up a new bulb and she took it. “I know it, Frank, but this one’s determined to dig a hole.”
Danny didn’t know what the big deal was. This was how she and her brothers changed the lofty bulbs in their own equipment building. She slipped the prongs into the ballast and was instantly bathed in white light. “If he’s so worried about his safety protocol, he’d be here to enforce it.”
Tom chuckled, but nearly lost his lunch when she jumped from one truss to the other. In a hurry to keep up, he climbed down, moved the ladder and ascended a few steps just in time to collect the next burnt tube. “If you fall,” he grumped, “it’s my ass, too. Not just yours.”
Fall. Amused by that one, she took another bulb, unmindful of the small group gathering by the door.
“Like a goddamned monkey,” someone mumbled.
“I used to have a monkey,” another man replied. “Didn’t have tits or ’tude like this one.”
She heard that. “Y’all are a bunch of assholes,” she drawled, and instead of the ruthless comebacks, she received goodhearted laughter and a whole lot of agreement.
Well...it was something.
After the job was done and she and Tom were alone, Danny took the opportunity to corner the old foreman. “You know, these guys wouldn’t make it past the first interview at Bennett Salvage.”
It was only a matter of time before he found himself in this type of uncomfortable position. Tom could tell just by the way Danny Bennett handled herself she’d survive. Despite her gender – or perhaps because of it – she exuded a confidence and skill that commanded respect. A leader, the same as he’d once been.
“Play your cards right and you could run this place,” he observed loudly, despite the shaft of guilt that made him inwardly cringe. “Maybe you could actually get some productivity going in this yard.”
The mere tho C>Thually gught was laughable. “Yeah, right. We both know the odds of that happening.” But at least she knew Tom was somewhat on her side now. “I just don’t understand why Cahill hires them in the first place. This has got to be the biggest joke of a salvage yard I’ve ever seen. Oh, it’s organized enough, but everything’s broke down, nobody works, there’s no structure of any kind, you don’t enforce discipline or – heaven forbid – work ethic, and...”
“First thing you gotta do is change your outlook.” Now that the ladder was put away, Tom rubbed a bowlegged knee and limped toward the exit as she dogged him from behind. “The salvage yard is like the unwanted stepchild of the Cahill Corporation. Nobody really cares because it’s not much of a money-maker, not like the on-site demolition and explosives departments are. But,” he stopped, turned to fix her with a thoughtful look. “Austin is a good boss. The men respect him, think of him as a friend. Which he is. They wouldn’t have jobs if it weren’t for him and they’ll put out a good effort when he’s around.”
“Then why isn’t he around every day?”
Did she care? What an interesting concept if she did. “He works some of the demolition jobs, the important ones. Can’t be in two places at once.”
The man started walking again and Danny kept up, drove right to the point. “I understand your loyalty to him, but you’re a decent man, Tom. Why do you constantly look the other way when I know you’re bothered by what’s going on here?” His hesitant look prompted her to clarify. “The trap...” Yep, he knew exactly what she referred to. “The dirty tricks I’ve had to deal with, the sexual harassment...”
“You understood the risks when you agreed to work here.”
“But you barely fall short of egging them on. That’s a little over the top, don’t you think?”
They reached the forklift and Tom climbed in. The girl wasn’t stupid. And it went against his grain to allow her to be railroaded by Austin and his crew, but dammit he was tired. Ineffectual. Burnt out. He reached over, turned the battery key. “No one has ever been able to stop a Cahill on a mission. Remember that. Best you can do is ride it out.”
Ride it out. That’s it? That’s all he had to offer? “Wonderful,” she sneered. “Thanks for the advice.”
“Okay, I’m taking bets here! Right here, Jay, in this hand, that’s where you put your money!”
Danny stopped what she was doing and turned to watch the culmination of yet another wager. One of the crew named Frank was standing on a trailer of electrical cabinets that he should have had stripped already. The demolition crews would be arriving within the hour signaling the end of the day and the man was now in a panic to catch up. He would do that by duping the others into a race with the promise of a monetary prize t Ceta And o the winner. How clever, Danny thought, shaking her head in disgust.
Tom whizzed by on the Bobcat and Danny glowered at the back of his white-haired head.
Then, a thought popped into her own. With her last ten bucks tucked in her pocket, her chance to fatten it was staring her right in the face.
“Ten bucks says I can strip those cabinets faster than any of you,” she shouted from her workstation. Heads turned, but then her measly offer was dismissed as the larger bets continued to float about. Digging in her pocket, she searched the small crowd until she spied Mac resting on a pile of old lockers. The hardhat dangled loosely in his hand as he scrubbed the thin tuft of earthen hair on his wide head. Wide face, big mustache...Mac resembled a strongman sporting as much fat as muscle. She approached him with more confidence than she felt. Yes, very big, very strong, but with no coordination whatsoever. If she were to guess his age, she would say he was in his late thirties and working a dead-end job. There was room for improvement, enough room to make her plan a successful one.
“Hey…Mac, is it?” The man spared her a glance. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Not interested, Bennett.”
That gave her pause. Mac, along with everyone else, seemed to know who she was and why she was here. And they were all Cahill loyalists. But she bolstered her courage, taking on the supervisory tone she’d used with countless Bennett employees. “Only a fool turns his nose up at a chance to make easy money.” She had his attention now. “I noticed you never participate in the ‘games’ as y’all call it. My guess is because you don’t think you can win.”
“Bingo. I’m too poor to throw my money away.”
“And if I can help you quadruple it?”
<
br /> The look he sent her beneath the hardhat was mixed with a combination of hope and doubt. “I’m listening.”
Moments later, Mac sauntered up to the trailer and held out two ten-dollar bills. “I’m in, but I’d like to make a suggestion.”
Frank snatched the money and counted what he’d already collected. “What’s that, my man?”
“Since this will only make you look like you’ve accomplished something today, I suggest we work in teams of two. Whoever’s in gets to chose a partner.”
“Sounds fair to me. Anyone have a problem with that?” No objections were made, so Frank, a tall lanky man with dark brown hair, light-blue eyes and handlebar mustache, lowered himself to the ground. “Okay, I have Torsten -vs- Mac! Torsten, chose your partner and take the cabinets to the right. Mac, you and your partner take the set on the left.”
Torsten chose the new kid because of his energetic and competitive spirit. As a team, their win was all but a sure thing against the big guy with no speed and coordination whatsoever.
t.&>
The electrical switchboard cabinets were set up much like lockers, approximately three vertical rows of doors, five doors per row. The value was in the copper busbar located behind the switchboard buckets. But in order to reach it, the buckets and side panels had to be removed. The work consisted mostly of turning wrenches, removing screws and lifting extremely heavy buckets. Alone, Mac had no chance, but then he chose his partner and the snickers floated through the crowd.
Danny bounded to the top of the loaded trailer as if she were on air. That alone brought on a few comments.
And she hadn’t even started yet.
“Damn, that was almost freakish.”
“Didn’t you see her changing the light bulbs? Talk about freakish.”
She whispered something to Mac, he nodded in agreement and the four competing members of the crew indicated they were ready. As soon as Frank gave the yell, it was an all-out war between team-Torsten and team-Mac.
Though Mac didn’t appear to be doing much. It was Danny who whipped out her drill, fit it with the right bit and began removing hinges with incredible speed. Soon Mac was tossing cabinet doors to the ground as they were removed from the first, second, then third row.
Danny then replaced her drill with a twelve-inch screwdriver and tackled the larger screws that held the buckets in place. Those screws were harder to get to, but she’d done this before. She knew exactly where to look, exactly what tools she’d need and soon Mac was hefting out the freed 70 lb. buckets, tossing them over the side like they were made of cardboard. The men on the ground stood with hands on hips and watched in utter amazement. The woman sped along with such fluid grace it was almost beautiful. She was working without a hardhat, which was against safety rules, but all the men were guilty of the same thing when the boss wasn’t around. A few strands of sun-kissed hair had escaped from the loosely knotted bundle at the base of her neck and some of the men forgot about the race all together.
Torsten lifted his first bucket, hefted it over the side and looked around to see why everyone was so quiet. His endorphins kicked in when he saw the princess tackle her fourth bucket. The kid was just getting to his second, starting with the door, and Torsten realized they’d have to pick up the pace if they were going to beat the other team.
And losing was not an option. He shouted at the kid to work faster.
Mac was enjoying his job immensely. For the first time in years he was pumped. With Danny turning the screws, all he had to provide was the man-sized muscle.
They finished the first row of cabinets, quickly moved to the next.
“Shit!” Torsten yelled, realizing it was no longer a neck-and-neck race. Halfway through his lockers, he started to fumble in his haste. His coordination was falling apart as he sank further into panic mode.
The buckets we Che ful.&nbre out. Danny took the sledgehammer Mac handed her and they both began to pulverize the red plastic dividers that were in the way of the copper busbar.
“That’s cheating!” Torsten yelled, having wasted valuable time in the past meticulously unscrewing each one.
“That’s determination, ya pussy!” someone yelled back from the crowd, most likely a worker who’d bet on the wrong team.
As Mac continued to wield his sledgehammer at anything in the way, Danny sailed to the ground and tackled the side panels. Her drill whizzed with precision until the panels came loose and fell to the ground. Now the end of the busbar was exposed and she dove into her tool belt for two sockets. Mac now made a slow, careful decent from the trailer and waited for Danny to need him. The other team had two remaining buckets to go before they could even start clearing out the red dividers. His heart was pumping with excitement and he hoped he wouldn’t have a heart attack before experiencing his first win.
Bolts were falling, and as they did, Mac pulled out the individual bars one-by-one.
Night was falling. Austin was exhausted, realizing he’d rather be in bed than in his office finishing paperwork, but the practice had become habit. They had begun gutting the interior of the old Minerva plant and, slowly but surely, they were making progress. The light fixtures alone had taken all day. It was a huge facility despite its age, and his salvage yard was piling up with anything that could be loaded on a truck and hauled there to be picked apart. It was doubtful his crew could keep up.
“Here’s eighty dollars.” Austin eyed the wrinkly stack of bills Danny placed on his desk. “Put it toward my debt.”
Without another word, she was gone. He hadn’t even heard her come in.
Chapter 5
For the first time, Danny had company at lunch. Mac sat down across from her, flicked a napkin open and shoved it in the v-neck of his exposed undershirt. She briefly looked up at him in surprise then took another bite of sandwich.
He cut to the chase. “So, what’s with the pink tools, Danny? I mean, come on. Is it really worth the razzing you get from these guys?”
The corner of her mouth twitched as she focused on her potato chips. “They aren’t just pink, they’re hot pink.”
Mac raised an eyebrow, “Pink is pink, princess,” and plowed into his barbeque sandwich.
Danny swallowed the food in her mouth, leaned forward and spoke low. “Tell me, Mac. Have you ever h Fhe fu Road your tools borrowed or stolen, never to see them again? No matter how many times you write your name on them?”
“Yeah, all the time.”
“Not me.”
After it sank in, he straightened and gazed at her in wonderment. “Well, I’ll be. She’s a goddamned genius.” He regarded the top of her head while she ate. “Something tells me you’ve got a whole bunch of tricks up your sleeve.”
Her smile was brilliant. She was beginning to seriously love Mac. “Comes from a whole bunch of experience. I have my own crew at home.”
“No shit?”
Well, he didn’t have to look that surprised. Of course, what the hell would she be doing here, right? “Depends on the job, but I’ve supervised up to seven guys.”
“And they don’t mind taking orders from a woman?”
“Some do...at first. But there’s this kid, Shaw, who has enough respect for me to keep a nice balance. He’s assigned to most of my jobs.”
Sounded more like a raging crush to Mac. “Boyfriend?”
A chip hovered below her mouth. Why did everyone assume that? Going with it, Danny regarded him like a best girlfriend at a slumber party. “Sure, why not? He’s certainly hot enough. Great bod, great smile, tons of skill...and he’s got this really cute birthmark on his left butt-cheek that looks like a portrait of George Washington.”
Instantly put off, Mac reared back. “Really?”
Her laughter carried through the commons room, earning her several fascinated looks.
The next morning, Mac emerged early from his room, tool belt thrown over his shoulder filled with his own tools instead of the expendable damaged ones owned by the salvage yard. He entered the c
ommons room whistling and hung the belt on a bracket next to Danny’s.
The bathroom beckoned.
Moments later, Austin walked in to grab a bagel and coffee. Sue followed shortly after and caught sight of her boss standing in the middle of the empty room with hands on hips, a perplexed look on his face.
“What’s up, boss?” she asked, then shifted her gaze to whatever had captured his attention. Her mouth split into a grin.
“Since when did this turn into a romper room, Sue?”
Sue produced a throaty chuckle and shook her head. “Why, isn’t that just the prettiest shade of pastel purple I’ve ever seen. Next to the pink it looks like Easter.”
“Don’t laugh,” Austin replied dryly. “That’s your brother’s tool belt.” He could hear her teeth click together behind him and he glanced back at his assistant. “Is there something about Mac I should know?”
Her brother? With purple tools? Throwing her hands up, Sue hung her head and began to back away. “As far as I know, I’m the only queer in my family, boss.”
“Then I can only assume Danny had something to do with this.”
“Maybe so. She’s a clever one, that girl. Had these boys practically calling her ma’am last I looked.”
Austin frowned. “And how did she accomplish that?”
The man didn’t look pleased and Sue was amused. “Oh, you should probably hang around more. Observe to get the full effect.”
Just then, the young woman in question emerged from the restroom, worn ball-cap pulled down low to hide the dark circles under her eyes...and the pink in her cheeks from being interrupted by Mac. The stalls had doors, but there was something about sharing a restroom with a man that was embarrassing as hell. Danny’s demeanor instantly changed when she caught Austin glaring at her.
“Whatever I’ve done wrong, it’s probably due to lack of sleep,” she muttered and moved to the breakfast bar.