18. England
England
Claire bounced down the hotel steps and spotted Noah sitting in his car in the guest drop-off area. She studied his face as he read something on his phone. It was a strong, masculine face. And could be quite expressive at times. This morning, it was closed off.
She opened the car door and plopped into the passenger seat. "Good morning!"
He clicked off the screen and shoved it into his pocket. "Morning," he said, without even a glance in her direction.
He looked over his shoulder and pulled out without waiting for her to finish clicking her seat belt. Okay, then. Mr. Grumpy Pants is back.
"So, you were totally right about crashing. Thanks for the heads-up."
He grunted, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Oh, and I ate at The Mill last night. Thanks for the suggestion. The hostess recommended the steak, and it was delicious."
At Noah's continued silence, Claire searched for something to talk about. She cocked her head at the music playing in the background. "What kind of music is this?"
He reached over and turned up the volume, effectively stopping further conversation. Maybe it was just his lack of caffeine. She perked up. Tomorrow, she'd bring a to-go cup from the hotel's coffee bar.
Claire jumped at the tap on her shoulder and blinked up at the man standing beside her desk.
Yesterday, after all the introductions, they'd shown her to an empty workstation in the admin wing of the plant office.
She'd liked the open floor plan immediately—being able to see people coming and going gave her a sense of control.
No risk of someone sneaking up on her. Or so she'd thought.
But once she'd slipped on her noise-canceling headphones and gotten lost in her work, the rest of the world had faded away.
The trade-off for focus, apparently, was surprise visitors.
She pulled off the headphones and turned to him. "Ben, right?"
"Excellent memory. Apologies for startling you. You ready for your plant tour?" He held up a hard hat marked "visitor" and a pair of safety glasses.
Claire clapped her hands together and grinned.
"Yes! I was so excited when y'all offered it yesterday.
" The British employees had been welcoming and eager to show her around the office.
When they mentioned a plant tour, she'd agreed right away.
The overt friendliness was a pleasant surprise after riding to work with Noah.
Both yesterday and today, she'd gotten a glimpse of exactly how grumpy the man was without his morning coffee.
He'd thanked her for the coffee this morning, but maintained his austere demeanor.
Stubborn man. If she weren't careful, his attitude might bleed over onto her, and she refused to be a grumpy person.
On the ride home tonight, she planned to talk him into coming early tomorrow and eating breakfast with her.
Maybe the secret was to get caffeine and actual food in his belly before the ride.
She locked her laptop screen and took the safety equipment from Ben, then followed him through a maze of cubicles and down a stairwell to a room stocked with more safety gear.
It reminded her of the mudroom at her grandparents' house where her Gran made her grandfather change out of his dirty farmer's clothes before entering her clean kitchen.
"We need to get you a set of earplugs as well. I didn't have any at my desk." Ben reached into a bin and handed her a pair of disposable earplugs. "You'll need to put them in before we enter the plant. Also, stay within the yellow pathway, where it's safe to walk without steel-toed boots."
"Got it," she said, opening the package. She followed his lead and donned her gear. "Ready when you are!"
Ben made a wonderful tour guide. He explained the different areas of the plant, what each did, and what cost center they belonged to in the system, which was fantastic since that's how she organized them in her head.
Being able to match the data she'd managed to the actual machinery and processes gave her a truer picture of what they did at Caprock.
Claire held the rail of the catwalk, looking down on the shop floor, while Ben explained how they integrated the diamond cutters into the drill bits at the station below them.
A movement to the right caught her eye. The hard hat and safety glasses hid his face, but those shoulders and the way he moved?
Noah was bent over a large piece of machinery, working beside several others.
"What's going on over there?" she asked. The group was having a lively discussion and pointing to various places within the equipment.
Following her gaze, Ben led her over to get a better view. "Looks like they're replacing a roller on the line."
"And Noah does that? I thought he was a production manager.
" Her breath caught when Noah's shirt tightened across his muscles as he forced a plate open on the machine.
He said something to one of the other men, who jumped in and pulled out a twisted piece of metal.
When the part came out, everyone cheered.
"Noah does everything. He's rarely in his office and usually out wandering the plant. And that particular line? He's been raising a fuss about it for months, telling everyone it's misaligned and eating through parts. I bet he gets someone's attention today." Ben grinned.
Claire studied Ben. "You admire him." She knew the project team respected Noah for his knowledge, but Ben's admiration seemed to go deeper.
"Who wouldn't? He knows every machine in the plant and can do most of these guys' jobs better than they can. He probably trained most of them. Anyway, the next station is right up here."
Claire followed Ben, but kept her eye on the floor below.
Once the broken part was out, everyone scrambled to get a new one in and the line working again.
Noah's face was smeared with grease and his shirt bore a few dirty hand prints from everyone slapping him on the back.
They were all smiling, happy to be back in business.
When the tour ended, Ben stashed her safety gear back in the gear-up room and led her a different way back to her desk. As they walked through a long hallway, her steps slowed as she browsed the photos hanging on the wall. Realizing he lost her, Ben walked back to stand beside her.
"This is our hall of fame. Employee events and memorable occasions go up here." He pointed to one framed picture featuring a group of people who were all smiles. "That's Noah. We'd had a spectacular day at the company picnic."
Claire peered at the smiling man in the photo. "He looks so young. And he's filthy! Everyone is dirty." She laughed. "Just what exactly did y'all do at this company picnic?"
Ben's face lit up. "Tug o' war. Loser fell in the mud."
Claire raised an eyebrow. "So, everyone lost?"
"No, Noah's team won, but it devolved into a mud fight afterward.
Best. Day. Ever." Ben pointed to another photo with Noah leaning against a large wooden desk.
"This is the desk he built for our former plant manager.
He worked day and night to get it done in time for the retirement party.
Some of us helped with the finishing touches like screwing in drawer knobs.
She focused on the desk. "Noah made that?" The craftsmanship astonished her.
"Sure. He's always making things. People are always roping him into helping them with DIY projects. One time he helped build the set for a school play for some chap's kid."
"Really?" Claire was seeing a whole other side of the man.
"Yep. You ready? I need to escort you back to your desk and then go make some phone calls." Ben looked at his watch.
"Oh! I am so sorry. I didn't mean to hold you up." Claire blushed.
"No worries. I enjoyed the break, and it's always good to walk the floor and get a reminder of why we're here.
" Ben smiled and led Claire back to her temporary desk on the second floor.
She paid attention to the route they walked, so she could sneak back later and check out more of the photos on the wall.
She definitely wanted to ask Noah about his woodworking skills this evening on the drive back to the hotel.
Claire saved the latest—and hopefully last—revision to the site code file and pulled up the script she'd written to recheck the data.
Noah had added the final site yesterday and was ready to upload the import file to the system.
She entered the command to run and let her mind drift while the script processed.
Today was Friday and their last day in the England offices.
It'd been almost a week, and she'd thoroughly enjoyed her time here.
She'd made new friends, whom she was sure she'd stay in touch with through their jobs.
And she'd coaxed Noah into sharing breakfast with her at the hotel.
He'd surprised her when he'd agreed, then elated when a full stomach and caffeine made a huge difference in his demeanor.
Her grandmother used to joke that the way to a man's heart was through his belly, and Noah sure seemed to follow that rule.
Claire had already made a list of dishes she wanted to make for him when they got back to Houston.
Tonight, the plant controller was treating them to dinner at a local favorite, which she was looking forward to.
She'd eaten at the hotel restaurant the first two nights, then ventured out to explore other nearby options, including a cozy pub Srini had recommended.
Claire didn't mind dining alone; back home, it was her norm.
But she'd discovered if she ordered her meal at the bar, the friendly bartenders often talked to her, and occasionally, a fellow solo diner would strike up a conversation.
The cursor on her screen blinked, pulling her attention back to the task at hand. No errors this time. She opened the corporate messaging app and pinged Noah.
Claire B: No errors on pre-check. Ready to load into sandbox. You ready to test?
She waited as dots appeared, indicating he was typing.
Noah R: Let her rip.
They'd seen little of each other during the week other than the drive to and from work.
Apparently, when Noah was back in England, he resumed his day job as production manager.
Their only communication on project work had been via email, messaging, or recaps on the fifteen-minute ride home each evening when he dropped her off.
She might as well have been back in Houston for all she saw of him.
After the care he'd shown the night of her seizure, she was certain their relationship had moved beyond frosty professional to something closer to friendship.
But after this week, it seemed they'd slid backward and were once again stiff, unfamiliar colleagues.
She hoped it was more to do with the environment and not with her.
Maybe the seizure had freaked him out. That would be disappointing.
He seemed more solid than that, even more so now that she knew how much everyone here respected him.
From the stories she'd heard all week, he was a permanent and very involved figure. A real company man. A lot like her dad.
Noah kicked off the reports they needed to confirm the upload worked and focused on the planning schedule before him.
He'd managed to keep up with his production duties for the most part, but with the project ramping up, he was worried about needing to offload more of his daily tasks, so they didn't fall through the cracks.
He'd addressed his concerns with his boss on Wednesday.
While they were talking, he'd asked Mitch about the potential Australian plant, which to Noah's disappointment, turned out to be just a rumor at this point and nothing concrete.
He'd been busy at home as well. Tristan often scoured antique markets and estate sales for materials and had texted Noah about an antique bookshelf he thought could serve as the base for his entryway storage unit.
Tuesday evening, Noah had driven to his brother's shop and examined the piece, taking measurements and snapping some images for reference.
The storage unit was really taking shape in his head now.
He'd been finalizing his design the last three days and was looking forward to spending tomorrow in Tristan's shop before he and Claire left for Norway on Sunday.
He rubbed his face, thinking about her. Guilt made him cringe at leaving Claire to her own devices this week, especially after her seizure last Tuesday. But she hadn't seemed too worried, and he'd successfully put some distance between them, locking away those unexpected… tender feelings.
He scowled at the planning sheet he'd just filled out. Everything was off by one row thanks to his meandering thoughts. He crunched it into a wad and lobbed it at the bin in the corner. Pulling out a fresh sheet, he started over.