Chapter 10
Balancing a cardboard cupholder tray in one hand while holding a bag of pastries underneath his chin, Sawyer opened the conference room door and stepped inside.
“Shayla was out of those cranberry-oatmeal bars you like, so I got you—” He stopped mid-sentence at the intense look clouding Paxton’s face.
He set the coffee and pastries on the table and walked over to her desk. She held up her index finger, the universal I’ll-get-to-you-in-a-minute gesture.
He perched on the edge of the table and folded his arms across his chest, not even bothering to go back to the CAD drawing he’d been working on before he went to The Jazzy Bean to get them both an afternoon snack.
With only her “ums” and “okays” to go on, it was difficult to glean exactly what was being discussed.
But Sawyer didn’t have to hear both sides to know that whatever it was, it was significant.
If it had anything to do with her mother or her dog, Paxton would have left the office without a second thought; he could only conclude that the call was related to the job.
He fought the urge to go directly to the worst-case scenario, but Sawyer had worked on enough state-funded projects to know how swiftly they could move from all systems go to worst-case scenario.
The funding could get pulled in a minute.
All it would take was someone at the executive level deeming another project more important.
Gauthier’s flood protection would be put on hold, funds would be diverted, and he would be reassigned to another project before the week was out.
And Paxton would be on her way back to Little Rock.
It wasn’t a question as to which made him more nauseated. As important as it was to this entire region that a capable flood-protection system be in place, the thought of Paxton leaving made him physically ache.
It didn’t matter that she would be only six hours away and that he could go up there every single weekend if he chose to—which Sawyer had already decided he would do once she returned.
He was supposed to have at least another week with her.
He was counting on that week before they had to figure out the “what’s next” part of their relationship.
An acute sense of desperation swept through him.
He still was uncertain whether she even considered them to be in an actual relationship. Maybe she really was just living out her fantasy of having a bit of fun with her high school crush, and once this project was done, they would be done, too.
But Sawyer refused to accept that. She’d run away from him once before, and instead of going after her, he’d married someone he didn’t love and wasted three years that could have been spent building a life with Paxton.
Dammit, he was ready to build a life with her.
He studied her profile as she listened to whoever was speaking on the other end of the line. Those delicate cheekbones were pronounced as her lips tightened with increased tension. Even with the smooth skin of her brow furrowing, she was still so damn beautiful that she took his breath away.
When she finally ended the call a couple of minutes later, Sawyer braced himself for the news. It would determine how much time he had with her before she packed up her things and headed back to Arkansas.
“That was John, my supervisor at Bolt-Myer,” Paxton said.
“I assumed as much. Are they pulling this project?”
She shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. There’s a second team from Bolt-Myer touring a flood-protection system that’s closer to one of the possible alternatives being considered for Gauthier. Instead of our driving out to Mobile to tour that barrier system, he wants us to join them.”
“Is that it?” Sawyer’s relief was so swift that his shoulders physically dropped.
“We have to leave tomorrow, so I’ll need to change our travel arrangements.” She swiveled her chair around to face him. “But there’s still a problem,” she said.
That feeling of lead filled his stomach again as he took in the seriousness of her expression.
“Bolt-Myer is concerned about the timetable. Of course, John wouldn’t come right out and say it because he approved the survey team, but he’s very skilled at giving not-so-subtle hints when he has an issue.”
“The surveyors are done,” Sawyer said. “We have a special team at the army corps working around the clock to get the new maps drawn up. Does he realize how tough it is to get any state agency to work overtime on something that isn’t critical?”
“Yes, he knows,” she said. “John is just being John. That’s the way he is.”
“Well, you can tell John that he’s an idiot.”
“He’s my boss,” Paxton pointed out. “He holds my career in his hands. I generally try to refrain from calling him an idiot, as hard as that can be sometimes.” She blew out a sigh before continuing.
“Anyway, I told him the maps will be done within the next couple of days, which mollified him a bit, but the timetable is just one of the issues he has with this project. He was much more concerned with what he’s calling ‘dwindling community confidence.’”
“What makes him think the community doesn’t have confidence in what we’re doing?”
“Apparently, there’s video on both YouTube and Instagram of the town hall meeting from the other night. He’s concerned with how heated things became.”
Sawyer pointed in the general direction of the school where the meeting had been held.
“He called that heated? I’ve seen more heated arguments over a bad call by the refs during a football game.
That wasn’t people being upset with you or Bolt-Myer—they’re upset about the situation in general.
People in Gauthier are passionate. They need to understand that. ”
“You know that, and I know that,” Paxton said. “But the powers that be at Bolt-Myer get edgy when community members show dissatisfaction.”
“It cannot be that drastic.”
“Goodness, Sawyer, why can’t you understand this?
” She threw her hands in the air. “I’ve explained it to you before.
We may work in the same industry, but we’re operating in two entirely different worlds.
Do you know how many engineering firms we’re up against every time we bid on a project?
One viral video of a disgruntled community member going off at a town hall meeting can lead to Bolt-Myer never working on another project in Louisiana again.
There are too many other capable firms the state can turn to.
Bolt-Myer can’t write off Nathan Robottom’s rant the other night as just a community member mouthing off, because it could mean the difference between tens of millions of dollars in state contracts.
I can’t just write off John’s concerns, because it could mean the difference between my moving into a project director or even a division head role, or being stuck as a project manager for the rest of my career. It really is that drastic.”
She brought one hand up to her temple and rubbed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I have a lot riding on this.
Every single project I work on can make or break my career.
The pressure is enough to suffocate me sometimes, but it’s been that way my entire life.
It has never, ever been easy for me, but I do what I have to do, and I get the job done. ”
He sat back for a moment, unable to come up with a response after her impassioned speech.
She was right. As much as it pained him to admit it, every single thing she had said was right.
He’d faced his share of hardships—he’d watched both his parents suffer through cancer and buried them both before he turned thirty-five—but he had never had to endure the kind of pressure Paxton faced every single day.
And she managed it with far more strength and grace than he could ever muster.
It made him love her even more.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.”
“It’s okay,” Sawyer said. “I needed to hear it.” He walked over to her desk and captured her hands, bringing them to his lips. “You tried to tell me before, but it wasn’t until just now that I realized how much harder it has been for you.”
“Don’t turn me into some martyr,” she said.
“I’m not. I’m pointing out how strong you are. And you’re right—we need to do whatever we can to make sure this project comes in on budget and on time. It’s your career on the line here.” He clamped his hands together. “So, what do we have to do to make Idiot John happy?”
“You up for that road trip?” she asked.
“I’ll gas up the car.”
“Actually, I need to book us some flights.”
“We’re flying?”
“Yeah,” Paxton said, turning around to face her computer. “You may be familiar with the site they’re touring. It’s in Southern Illinois.”
Sawyer’s stomach dropped. He already sensed what she was about to say.
“Just outside of another small town called Cairo.”
Paxton struggled to maintain her calm as she sat across from Sawyer at the hotel restaurant where they had met the engineering team from Bolt-Myer.
If she had known Clay Ridgely would be here, she would have made up an excuse for both she and Sawyer to forgo this trip.
She was certain after her coworker’s third thinly veiled sexist joke of the night that Sawyer was going to reach across the table and choke him.
Thankfully, the social aspect of the evening was over and talk had moved to business.
Or maybe things were about to get worse.
“I heard you hit a couple of snags on your project, Paxton,” Clay said before he sipped the whiskey that was against company regulations to indulge in on a business trip. Not as if that mattered to Clay.
“I wouldn’t call it a snag,” she said. “We’re simply being thorough. It would be foolish and irresponsible to install a flood-protection system that could possibly fail to protect some areas.”
“You’re going to be over budget, aren’t you?” Clay asked, his smile sly.