“Maybe it’s negotiable,” he suggested. “Carrying the bag. How important can it be? I didn’t even notice it when I read through the packet.”
“This type of fine print is calledboilerplate,” she told him. “That generally means non-negotiable.”
“Come on,” he said. “You’re a lawyer.Everything’snegotiable.”
“I wish,” she said, looking down again at the document on the table in front of her. She sighed. “Oh, God, Idoreally wish…” But instead of finishing her thought, she shook her head and forced a smile.
“What?” Jim asked around a bite of toast. “Maybe I can be your fairy godmother, you know, make your wish come true.”
She laughed at that, but shook her head again. “I wish I was really in charge of the team—thatteam leaderreally meant teamleader. So, unless you can re-write these rules…”
He shrugged expansively. “Navy SEAL.”
She laughed again, but this time rolled her eyes. “You say that a lot—as if it’s your catch-phrase, or… It means whatever you need it to mean in the moment, doesn’t it?”
She was right about that. “In this case,” he told her, “it means that rewriting the rules is kinda our jam.”
“With all due respect, sir, please don’t sayjam.”
They both looked up to see Thomas King carrying his tray toward the bussing area.
“Too old?” Jim asked the younger man with a laugh.
“And too not-from-California,” Thomas grinned back at him. “Please also purgecowabungafrom your vocabulary, sir. And, Dunk asked me to tell you that he’s finally got a few minutes to spare,” the young SEAL continued. He gave both a nod and aMa’amto Ashley as he then continued on his way.
Jim finished up his eggs with one last large forkful. “Gotta run,” he told Ashley as he stood up. Ow and ow. “Meet you out at the O. Don’t forget—this morning’s exercise is ateamevent.”
“Believe me, I’m well aware of that.” She nodded as he took his tray toward the corner with the trash cans and dirty dish basins.
But was she? Really…? As Jim glanced back at Ashley, she gave him one last rueful smile.
“Think about it—team,” he told her, but he was far enough away now that the noise of the clattering dishes made it impossible for her to hear him, and as he watched, she shook her head, frowning slightly to signal that she wasn’t able to read his lips. So he tapped his head instead, but he could see that she still didn’t understand, so he held up six fingers, but she still shook her head.
Sadly, he couldn’t be any less cryptic. His team leader had to figure it out for herself—best he could do was make broad hints.
As he went to talk to Dunk—about Ashley, although his conversational subtopic of how best to help her was now on hold as a discussion of team leader duties took priority—her words echoed in his head.I can’twaitto be dragged up and over that wall by Bull and Todd.
Yeah, that was gonna be hard to watch.
He was certain that Ashley would figure it out eventually. He just hoped—for his sake as well as her own—that it would be sooner rather than later.
***
Bull “helped” Ashley up to the top of the O-course wall—one hand on her butt, the other beneath her arm, which ended up, yes, on her breast.
It could’ve been accidental—yeah, right, in some alternate universe.
He somewhat laboriously pulled himself up and slid down the other side as she got her bearings and teetered there, balancing on the top. She risked a glance over at Jim, who was leaning against the fence across the compound. He’d absolutely seen that—his eyes were narrowed and his mouth tight. But he didn’t stop them—he just went back to looking down at his phone.
“Come on, move it!” Bull shouted up at her, once he was securely on the ground, with a gesture that was half impatience and halfI’ll catch you.
“No, I got it,” she said, because the wall wasn’tthathigh, and sliding down was much easier than clambering up—although in truth, she’d really only needed a clasped-handed toe boost from him, which of course wouldn’t have allowed him to grope her as thoroughly. “Back off, Mr. Edison, give me space.”
Of course, he didn’t. He moved closer, hands outstretched as she slid down—right into a crotch grab, Goddamnit.
“I got it, move back!” she said, louder this time as she twisted to get away from his hands and his leering, laughing face. There was enough of an edge to her voice that Jim looked up again from whatever he was doing—sending texts or emails, or God, maybe even live-tweeting this debacle—during this so-calledplanning phaseof their first morning exercise.
Before Team One was officially timed as they ran the obstacle course, their task was to figure out the best way to get through it as quickly as possible, considering their individual limitations—i.e.herlimitations.
