Chapter 10 Lincoln
LINCOLN
@theanswerisno:
Team up with me
@pancakesareelite:
You’ll be better off teaming up with a more seasoned player. I don’t want you to lose this tournament
@theanswerisno:
What happened to all that talk of “we are undefeatable together”?
@pancakesareelite:
When did I say that?
@theanswerisno:
You haven’t, but you totally should.
I resisted the urge to lay my head face down on the sixteen-seater mahogany table. The other engineers were late. Or maybe I was a few minutes early. But this was my first meeting with all the managers since taking on this potential role, and I had to make a good impression.
But I was exhausted.
“Rough night, Carden?” Anders asked as he stepped into the room and rubbed his stomach.
“Sure,” I replied, frustrated that my frustration was showing even when I tried hiding it.
But it was a rough night. I’d stayed up late in an attempt to catch up on my emails before this meeting. I overslept. Missed my run. Ran out of meds and had no time to refill my prescription. I was completely thrown off.
The other managers filed in and took their seats, some already bragging about their interns.
I sat thinking about what I’d say about Elizabeth. I’d been on-site and in so many meetings that I hadn’t been able to properly guide or evaluate her since she started.
When I’d stayed quiet for too long, Anders turned to me. “How’s Gordon-Bettencourt coming along? Caught her putting on makeup yesterday when she should have been working. Not that I’m complaining.”
Around the table, faces broke into silent smirks.
“Not that we’re complaining,” the head of urban design said. This earned a quiet chuckle from some of the others.
“Gents, seems like a good time to remind you about Simucon’s strict policy against workplace relationships,” Anders said, still grinning.
“Simucon also has a no-nonsense approach to workplace harassment.” My tone brooked no room for argument. “She’s coming along fine. Eager to learn, picking up concepts quickly, although her first attempts are generally sloppy. She seems to be in a rush.”
“Probably trying to catch up to the others. She’s a few years older than them,” the senior engineer in Bridges said before raving about his interns.
“She started at UCLA in her twenties, dropped out after a couple years, then took time off. That’s when she was all over the tabloids.
At some point, for some reason, she transferred to San Diego State and continued her studies.
Rumor has it, there was some family drama. ”
“What happened?” Anders asked, leaning in.
“Can’t seem to find the specifics,” the engineer continued. “With that much control over the media, they’ve been able to keep it hush-hush.”
“They haven’t kept anything else about her quiet. Her entire dating history is online, and it’s long. She certainly had fun in those years when she quit engineering,” Anders said. “Heard she even dated Rupert Bryan—you know that star from that superhero movie.”
Richard nodded. “I heard about that. And Axe Nilsson, the racer. I wanted to ask her about it the other day, but thought it was better not to.”
I didn’t know any of that, and I didn’t need to.
“You’re right,” I snapped. “Because it’s none of our business. Unless you’d like it if we all started poking around your upbringing, marriages, affairs, and divorces.”
A few of the men around the table stiffened, but I couldn’t stop. Elizabeth was a person whose choices should be respected and kept private, like anyone else. “We need to evaluate her on her technical ability.”
“I agree,” Fischer jumped in. “Let’s move on with this meeting, please.
I have another meeting in thirty minutes.
In short, I think Cedric is going to be a wonderful addition to our division.
He’s a shoo-in.” He pulled out a scroll of drawings and unrolled them across the desk.
“For position two, it’s a close call between Haaziq and Peter.
Both have excellent results and workmanship.
I’ve been working closely with Cedric, but Richard has been overseeing the other two. ”
“It’s only week three. We have five more weeks before the final test. I don’t think we should be discussing final placements.
It could create bias,” I said, making a note to scrutinize Haaziq’s and Peter’s work myself.
“Besides, I’m not all that impressed with Cedric.
You haven’t mentioned his inaccuracies.”
I was aware that Cedric’s mistakes were overlooked by Fischer. But I didn’t care if he took offense. His review was as error-filled as Cedric’s design.
The engineer huffed, crossing his arms and lifting his nose in the air.
“Let’s be honest. It’s not going to be Gordon-Bettencourt.
You’re speaking about creating bias as if she isn’t wearing short dresses and low necklines to earn favor.
Cedric is working on getting this job fair and square.
Perhaps you need to remind your intern that placement is based on technical knowledge. ”
My blood boiled, and I sat up straighter.
All the exhaustion from this weekend was sucked out of me and replaced with a simmering rage.
“Fischer,” I called, meeting his blue-eyed gaze, “I notice you refer to every other intern by their name. Her name is Elizabeth, and your comments are inappropriate.”
A strange defensiveness curdled in my chest. Elizabeth was trying, and she was learning. She deserved respect. On second thought, it wasn’t that strange wanting to defend her. “I haven’t been able to dedicate the required time to properly guide Elizabeth. I’ll prioritize her going forward.”
“Interesting, since she said you’ve been a great mentor,” Anders said, a twisted smile on his face.
She did?
Fischer raised his hands. “Whatever the case may be, I don’t think you should be wasting your time, Carden. You said her work is sloppy. Why is she here?” He turned to Anders. “Is it because of her family influence?”
Anders shrugged. “Maybe.”
My hand balled into a fist around my black pen. I shook my head, willing the anger to subside. If there was one thing that drove me up the wall, it was opportunities being granted based on wealth instead of merit. “I hope that isn’t true.”
Anders turned to face me. “Or maybe I hired her to test you. I can’t make you a manager based on your engineering talent, Carden. You need to be able to manage. Manage your intern. If you can do that, the job’s yours.”
I stood, unable to be around them. My mood wasn’t under control.
I needed sleep, and I needed my ADHD medication.
I needed to get out of this meeting. I could feel myself unraveling, and they shouldn’t see that.
“Understood. Please excuse me as I have a meeting at the Princely intersection in forty-five minutes, and it takes an hour to get there.”
Without waiting for permission, I dipped my head and left the boardroom.
Spinning through to my office, I grabbed the construction drawings and set them down on my desk.
Elizabeth arrived with a fresh cup of coffee in her hands and smiled brightly.
I kept my head down. Every part of me was already on edge, and her fitted yellow summer dress and sweetheart neckline poked at my annoyance after the meeting I’d had.
She set her coffee cup down on the desk and leaned over my construction drawings while I lifted my car keys, hard hat, and reflective vest.
Her loud gasp called my attention. I turned around as her caramel-colored beverage soaked into my construction plans.
The last strand holding me together broke. My fist came down on the desk between us. Elizabeth flinched, and her body went ramrod straight.
“No, no, no,” I ground out, along with a string of curse words.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Carden.” Her voice came out as a squeak. “I’ll print another set.”
“Leave it.” I shook my head and left before I could do or say anything else that would make a bigger mess out of this situation.
I made it to the site twenty minutes late and without drawings.
The rush of the day continued, but my heightened emotions simmered down.
Elizabeth’s wide gray eyes and shaking voice sprang to mind.
I jumped out of my truck, and while walking to the container we’d be meeting in, I checked my phone, which seemed a couple minutes away from dying.
I navigated to my email app, where I typed out a message.
Elizabeth, apologies for the outburst earlier. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.
I hit send. It wasn’t fine. They would be expecting the drawings, but I didn’t want the guilt eating at her. It made me feel guilty knowing she’d be feeling guilty. I couldn’t begin to explain the logic of my feelings. Even my therapist struggled.
“Where are my drawings?” The resident engineer was nearly snarling upon my arrival. Problems. That’s what that meant. Always wretched problems.
“Delayed.” I pursed my lips in what I hope was a fairly polite smile.
“Just like you, then,” he replied.
I learned a long time ago when to fight fire with fire. An apology would do no good here. “What’s the crisis? Spit it out.”
“We’ve hit rock.”
I sucked on my teeth and turned to face the contractor. “I told you to hire a geotechnical specialist.” If everyone could stop cutting corners to save a buck, that would make my job ten times easier.
We explored the site, and I made note of their progress and any potential problems we might face. Saunders left me in big trouble with this one.
As we neared the entrance, a bright red Mini Cooper pulled up. The door flung open, and Elizabeth sprang out.
Holding a scroll of drawings.
And wearing absolutely no PPE.
“Who is that?” the resident engineer said.
“My engineer.” I shot him a warning glance before he could say anything stupid.
“Mr. Carden.” She walked up to me, her still-shaking hands extending the roll of drawings. “I printed a new set. It’s the latest ones. I cross-checked it against the coffee-stained plans.” Her face scrunched up, and her red cheeks made the small scattering of freckles disappear.
Something inside me softened unexpectedly as I took her in.
Her copper-red hair had unraveled from the long ponytail she’d had earlier.
Her gray eyes were still wide enough for me to see the whites around them, and the corner of her burgundy-painted lips twitched downward.
Gone was the sunny disposition and sassy woman I’d come to expect.
I must have been far angrier than intended.
Stepping closer to her, I whispered, “I’m so sorry about earlier. You didn’t have to drive all the way here.” I took the drawings.
“Coo can handle it.” She flashed me a weak smile and gestured to her car.
Of course she’d named it.
“Thank you.” I squeezed my hands around the drawings, grateful for the set. It solved so many problems. I glanced back at her smile. I didn’t like that it was unsure. I didn’t like the fear still lining her voice.
Sighing skyward, I felt my walls being beaten down.
Manage your intern.
“You can join for the rest of the meeting, but you’re only allowed into the container and back into your car. You’re not dressed appropriately to go anywhere else on this site.”
“Really? Awesome!” she said with a little hop. Far too excited for such a boring meeting, but there was sunshine creeping back into her voice. “Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me. It’s part of my job.”
Looking at her on a good day was risky, and today was downright treacherous, but I couldn’t resist feeding off her enthusiasm. She made me feel some unlabeled feeling I’d never felt before.
I led her into the container and laid the drawings on the desk. Then I talked them through it. Twice. Because the first time, they were all looking at Elizabeth.
When my meetings were done, I could finally breathe. I took a slow drive back to the office, and on the way, I stopped at the pharmacy where I could refill my prescription. It also happened to have a delicious takeout place next door.
Zoya’s Xpress was the home of the best chicken salad sandwiches in town.
“My favorite customer!” the small Indian woman said as I stepped inside. I’d bet she said that to everyone. “Chicken salad? With a bit of heat?”
My stomach grumbled. I nodded and leaned against the doorframe of the tiny but clean hole-in-the-wall cafe. Driving and being on-site always made me hungrier than usual. I shook my head thinking about Elizabeth driving up there in a wild panic with a roll of drawings.
Did she eat today?
I’d seen her eating at the Friday announcements where little sandwiches and cookies were offered. She didn’t seem to be allergic to sugar or dairy, and she once mentioned enjoying a chicken salad sandwich.
But she never ate at her desk, and she never left long enough to eat anywhere else either.
Why?
It wasn’t unusual that I’d noticed this. I noticed everything. This was a totally normal thing for me to notice.
Especially in the house I grew up in where my mother was always offering me—and anyone around us—food. There was nothing more important to her than ensuring people had eaten.
My mind wandered while the smell of spiced chicken filled the air.
“Two,” I said to Zoya. “Please make it two.”