“Hey, Dave, glad to see you’re here today,” one guy said, as the superintendent placed two taco shells on his plate.
“I’m glad you came back, Marty,” Dave returned.
“Hamburger or chicken, Marty?” Ned asked.
“Hamburger, thanks.”
Following Dave and Ned’s lead, Shae asked, “Shredded cheese, Marty?”
Marty started to reply, but a crewmember behind him appeared to nudge him, so instead, Marty just pointed.
Shae forced herself to keep her smile intact. She gave Marty a generous serving of shredded cheese, then turned to the next person in line and asked him the same.
When Pete Martin appeared, she was the first to speak. “I gave my father your regards when I saw him yesterday. He asked me to tell you and all the guys how much he appreciated your cards.”
After a long pause, Pete finally grunted, “Uh, thanks.”
Reluctant acquiescence. She added, “I asked his doctor how soon he can have visitors. He told me it would probably be another week. But as soon as visitors are allowed, we’ll let you guys know.”
Pete’s eyes widened. “Good. Thanks.”
Next to her, Ned moved closer and tapped her elbow slightly with his own. Finally, he approved of something she’d done. If she’d had more time to compose her thoughts before the meeting yesterday, she probably would have thought to check on this and brought it up herself. But that bridge had already been crossed. All she could do now was anticipate the road ahead.
Splat! A blob of taco sauce shot through the air from the plastic squeeze bottle a foot away and landed on her front. On her new blue blouse. She stared at the growing stain before she realized what had happened.
The crewmember who’d thumped the bottom of the squeeze bottle, apparently to loosen the sauce, gave her a “my bad” grin, and then said, “Oops. Sorry. The stuff came out sooner than I thought it would.”
“Those guys were just testing you,” Ned had told her yesterday. Was this another test or was it just an unfortunate accident? What would her dad do? Hell, her dad didn’t own a new blue blouse. Her reaction was up to her. She wanted to clobber the guy. Better yet, retaliate with her own shots of taco sauce aimed his direction. But she wouldn’t let herself be suckered into a mindless reaction again. Not when the whole point of this second meeting was for her to show restraint.
She grabbed a couple napkins and dabbed up as much of the sauce from her blouse as she could. Wouldn’t prevent the stain—had to suck up the fact the blouse was ruined—but she needed to get as much of the stuff off before it dripped on her pantsuit. But first she scooped up a bit of sauce with her gloved index finger and took a taste. “Not bad.” She smiled at the crewmembers still in line, gawking at the show. “But better on your tacos, I’m sure.”
She plucked the offending crewmember’s name from recent memory. “Good shot, Jimmy.” She leaned across the table toward the man and fixed a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Just to be on the safe side, let me help you with that sauce.”
Jimmy took a step back, held up one palm while he protected his plate with the other hand. “Uh, that’s okay, Ms. Harriman. I got enough.” He scuttled away.
While she still held the bottle, she turned to the next man in line. “How about you, Bob. Can I offer you some taco sauce?”
Bob shook his head and sped away as fast as Jimmy. She’d made her point, so she set down the squeeze bottle and went back to spooning out shredded cheese and lettuce as if nothing had happened.
“I’ll take a heaping helping of that cheese, Ms. Harriman,” the next man said. “That’s what makes the taco.” As soon as she’d ladled it out for him, he added, “Not the sauce.”
She looked up from the container of cheese just in time to catch his hint of a smile. Well, what do you know? Maybe she’d passed this test.
As soon as the line cleared, Ned leaned over. “Great save! I held my breath there for a moment, wondered if we were in for a food fight. But you came through like a pro.”
Dave whispered, “How’s your blouse, Shae? Did it survive the taco sauce?”
She turned away from the serving table to check. “It’s a goner, but if it regained the tiniest ounce of respect for me, it’ll be worth the loss.”
Once the crewmembers had eaten and the remains of the meal were cleared away, Dave called them to order. “Welcome back to Part Two of our orientation meeting, everyone.” Before anyone even thought to snicker or interrupt him, he went on to say, “Hope you enjoyed the meal.”
Polite applause.
“We’ll do this kind of thing more often as the project unfolds, to celebrate the conclusion of various milestones along the way.”
More applause. More enthusiasm.
“You can thank our interim boss, Shae Harriman, for the idea. Just one of the small innovations she’s introducing. With her dad’s full approval, of course.”
Everyone glanced over their shoulders at Shae seated in the back of the room. Just look gracious, Shae. Don’t correct Dave by telling them the food was Ned’s idea. What innovations? First she’d heard of them, but she’d come up with something. For now, the crew had to believe she had their best interests at heart as she introduced her own small touches. With her dad’s blessing, of course. She hated that last part, but after yesterday, the crew wouldn’t take kindly to anything with just her name on it. Plus, it was in her best interest to keep her dad informed.
Though difficult, she kept her mouth shut, remembered Ned’s coach-owner analogy.
Before Dave moved on to the main agenda, he returned to the subject of Shae one more time. “I also want to thank Jimmy, who made me look good with our new boss.” He paused, allowed everyone’s attention to drift to their fellow crewmember. “I tried to talk her into wearing an apron today without success.” The room exploded in laughter.
Dave waited for the room to grow quiet again. “Just so you know, we’ve now removed all the taco sauce from the premises.” More laughter, at Jimmy’s expense this time, as those around him nudged him to make sure he’d heard.
Dave, you showman. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Okay, let’s return to the real reason for this meeting and talk schedule and workload.” For the next twenty minutes, the group listened while Dave laid out the plans for the project. No one interrupted. No one walked out.
At first, Shae’s defensiveness got the better of her as she sat there and absorbed Dave’s words. I said all that, too. How come no one’s questioning Dave when he says it?
But then she broadened her observations and noted not only Dave’s body language, the nuances in his presentation style and the sequence in which he laid out the plans but also the group’s reaction to him. He took his time at first, started with humor. At her expense, he’d found something that put them all on common ground, and that shared experience resulted in a positive outcome.
The day before, she’d been so anxious to get started and have the meeting over with, she’d not given herself time to relax and play to her audience. Truth be told, had she not experienced the grilling, it never would have occurred to her, even now, how important it was to relax.
“That’s about the size of things. At least for the moment,” Dave concluded. “Any questions?”
The room went silent for a few beats, and then, as if the group had elected its own designated spokesperson, Pete Martin raised a hand. “Uh, Dave. We all appreciate your coming in today to go over things again. We heard about your wife. We’re glad all went well with her surgery.”
Tiny steel bars threaded their way through her veins. For all the good will they’d attempted to generate with the free meal and Dave’s presentation, the crew’s mood had returned to this. She sensed the next question before Pete Martin opened his mouth again.
“Thanks, Pete. All of you. It was fairly routine surgery, although it came on fast. My wife is doing quite well.”
“Good to hear,” Pete continue
d.
Shae held her breath.
“With old Tim out for the time being and you dealing with an emergency yesterday, it really drove home the point that we’re all working under jerry-rigged leadership. No disrespect to you, Ms. Harriman,” he gazed back at Shae but added, “Shae, we realize you’re just helping out your dad, but too much is at stake here for someone who’s never led a project like this to be in charge.”
“That’s what I’m here to explain—” Dave said.
Shae stood and faced her people. “No one is more aware of my supervisory and management inexperience than I am, Pete. But I do have legitimate credentials for this job. Like a civil engineering degree from Iowa State. I’m familiar with this company and all it stands for, because I’ve worked in the administrative office the past five years.”
“I, uh, didn’t realize you were an engineer,” Pete replied.
She stuck her chin out just a tad. “I really want us all to succeed.” She inhaled, exhaled, and then said, “Yesterday was a great lesson for all of us. Painful, but informative. Now that it’s out in the open, I hope we can accept the fact I’m here, at least for a while. Whenever I appear to go the wrong direction, I hope you’ll work with me to correct it.”
Speech concluded, she took her seat again. She’d really set herself up for a letdown now, even though she’d felt compelled to make the statement.
Pete bit his lip, wiggled in his seat. “I, uh…sure.”
Dave quickly cut in with, “Thanks, Shae. We all appreciate your commitment to this project.” She willed herself to appear professional and gracious. A few chairs away, Ned nodded and gave her a discreet high sign.
When Dave glanced toward the back of the room, Shae turned that way as well. A few of the office staff held trays of champagne flutes ready to move in as soon as the meeting ended. Who authorized champagne? The crew may have been treated to lunch, but they were still on work time, when alcohol was off-limits.
“Come on in, folks,” Dave called, as if not quite sure what else to say. The staff moved among the audience, distributing the drinks.
After everyone had been served, Dave took hold of a glass. “Uh, well, wasn’t expecting this, but our, uh, developer, Ned Collins, apparently wanted to add his touch to today’s meal. If the weather permits, we break ground next week.” He raised the glass. “To clear skies, a little luck, God’s good graces, and the construction of Sullivan’s Creek.”
Everyone held their glass aloft, joined in.
Toast over, champagne consumed, the group began to file out. Shae rose to shake hands with people, wish them well in the weeks to come. But those who remained either went up to congratulate Dave or stopped by Ned to thank him for the champagne.
She should be relieved, happy. They had their crew back. At least the crewmembers had been civil. Even laughed a bit. Instead, she stood there like a pillar of stone, a frozen smile belied the rage growing within. This meeting had been aimed at the crew, Dave, her, and their reconciliation. But Ned couldn’t leave well enough alone. No, the superstar, who apparently craved an audience, had been hell-bent to remind her and everyone else he was the one who paid the bills. Couldn’t let her enjoy even this tiny victory.
Chapter Eight
Within ten minutes, the room emptied except for Shae, Ned, and Dave. Since the office staff had cleared away the remaining food, there wasn’t much cleaning up to be done.
Dave drifted over to the chair where Shae still sat attempting to process what she had just observed. “Looks like things have settled down here. I’m going back to the hospital. Call if you need me.”
She came out of her reverie long enough to say, “Thanks, Dave. You really turned things around. “
He lifted his shoulders. “You did your part, too. You kept your calm when you needed to. Even joked with the guys a little.”
“Speaking of jokes, you weren’t so bad yourself. I’ve never seen you lead a meeting let alone defuse a potentially explosive situation like that. Thanks.” She shook his hand, held it a fraction to convey her appreciation.
“Uh, you’re welcome,” a somewhat surprised Dave returned. “See you tomorrow.”
“That was very gracious of you,” Ned said, after Dave left.
“Even I have my moments.”
“Some meeting,” he commented. “Twenty-four hours ago, I wasn’t sure we’d ever get to this point.”
“We?”
He returned a puzzled look. “Well, yeah. I was right there alongside you in the serving line. And then, there was the champagne at the end—”
She gritted her teeth, still seething. “Yes, the champagne. Fairly high-ticket item for someone who has nickel-and-dimed everything else. Did you find a liquor store with a two-for-one sale?”
“Actually, I raided the Woodley wine cellar at my friend’s invitation. Alcohol on the job probably isn’t the best idea, though.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“It was just a small flute, Shae.”
“Champagne may be the drink of choice in the entertainment world, but not in construction. Even I knew these guys are generally beer drinkers, unless they’re at a wedding or anniversary party. All you did today, besides one-upping me, was demonstrate how little you know about this world. Not the best start for the guy who wants to be his own project manager.”
He grimaced, stared at the floor momentarily. “Okay, point taken, although I was only trying to help you seal the deal.”
“Why? You weren’t the one they threatened to walk out on.”
He leaned so close she could smell his woodsy aftershave. “Oh, really? It was my project in jeopardy. If I hadn’t…” He stopped and sucked in his lips.
“If you hadn’t what?” A tiny bubble of suspicion poked her brain.
“Never mind.”
“Never mind? What did you do, Ned?” she challenged, letting her misgivings underpin her tone.
He didn’t answer at first. Then, “I’m glad Dave was able to be here.”
“Uh-huh?” She lifted a brow.
“I wasn’t sure he’d understand the gravity of the situation. Especially since his mind was probably on his wife.” As an afterthought, he added, “As it should have been.”
“What does that mean?” She couldn’t keep her voice from rising.
Backing up a step, he placed his hands in his pants pockets. “I, uh, went to see him at the hospital.”
“You…did what?” She was almost shrieking now.
“His wife was still in recovery. He was just sitting there, waiting to hear about her condition. He welcomed the distraction.”
“You went to the hospital? Intruded on his privacy?”
“It was a bit, uh, irregular, I agree. But I called first to make sure he was okay with seeing me.”
“People don’t do that to other people.”
“I said I checked with him first. Made sure I wouldn’t be interfering. It worked out well in the end.”
“It was my job to contact him. Which I did.”
He shifted his stance. “You had your hands full setting up today’s meeting. I had the time to check in with him.”
She didn’t know which was worse, his interference or his belief she hadn’t. “You went way beyond your bounds.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe so. But face it, Shae. You were in over your head yesterday. I had too much at stake to risk you not following through on this plan.”
She drew in her lips. He had no confidence in her? These past weeks, she’d been so focused on keeping his involvement to a minimum, she’d forgotten the concerns he had about her when she took over. “I did follow through with Dave. I also proved myself at this meeting, as you said yourself.”
“Only because Dave was here to lead.”
She couldn’t dispute his point. Dave had saved the day. But it cut that their client still doubted her. Damn! She’d been working so hard to make a go of this assignment.
Unable to come up with an appropriate rejoinder, sh
e reached for her bag and stomped off.
From behind her, he called, “There you go again. Ought to get yourself some running shoes for faster takeoffs.”
Déjà vu. Only yesterday she’d felt the same way at her office, slamming, then locking the door. Shouldn’t have walked out. Should have held her ground. But his lack of confidence in her had shaken her own confidence so much she couldn’t talk.
She grabbed a coffee mug on her desk and threw it across the room. It caromed off the side of a file cabinet—her dad hadn’t yet digitized all their records—and shattered. It took a couple beats for her to realize what she’d done. Then the tears arrived. A deluge she couldn’t stop. Who was she more upset with, Ned or herself? One thing was for sure: working with him, having him as project manager was proving to be more difficult than she ever imagined.
Better sense told her to get out from under this project now. Two Rivers couldn’t afford Ned Collier’s way of doing business. But it couldn’t afford to lose his business either. With her dad on the sidelines, it was up to her to figure out how to make this work.
From now on, she had to be on guard and watch Ned much more closely. How was she supposed to do that without risking her heart?
****
Two days later, Shae sat in her car and watched the stakes go into the ground to mark where they would dig Ned’s mother’s lot. The weather, which had turned cold and windy, reflected Shae’s mood. Why was it taking so long? They should have finished an hour ago. Old Man Todd, the despot whose company was responsible for the excavation, had probably drawn out the process in return for having to discount his fees.
A knock on her side window startled her. “Miss Harriman?” One of the crew. From his puckered eyes, things weren’t going well. Nonetheless, she chose the high road. “How’s it going, Marty?”
“Slower than we’d like. But this outfit is known for doing a crackerjack job. Mr. Todd wants to know if you want to check the first section.”
How considerate of Todd. Was this for real or was it a set-up to make her look like a rank amateur? She’d never witnessed this part of a project before, except as in intern in college. But she was game. She could read site plans with the best of them.
Tough Enough to Tango Page 8