Sawyer had not imagined the sneer in her voice when she said “someone like you.”
It didn’t take a degree in rocket science to uncover the true meaning behind her words or the tone in which she’d spoken. Paxton Jones resented that he had been a rich kid; she always had. As if it was his fault that his father owned the lumber mill that employed a good number of the laborers in town.
The fact that she grew up in Landreaux, one of the poorest areas of Gauthier, did not help the situation. Differences in status or class had never been a huge issue in this town, mainly because other than his family and the Gauthiers themselves, most of its residences were hardworking, lower-middle-class folks. There were those who fell below the poverty line, but instead of deriding them, the people here quietly did what they could to help.
Paxton, however, had never accepted help easily. Neither had her mother, even though Belinda Jones had swallowed her pride a time or two when things became too much for her to handle. Sawyer was positive that Ms. Jones had never told her daughter about the instances when she had availed herself of the financial assistance the Cheryl Ann Robertson Foundation, which his father had set up in his mother’s memory years ago, supplied to needy families in Gauthier. Belinda Jones was too proud.
Like mother, like daughter.
As far as Sawyer was concerned, when it came to this project, Paxton could choke on her resentment. Her hang-ups about his money didn’t make a lick of difference to him. Making sure this flood-protection system was the very best it could be was more important than worrying about the chip on her shoulder.
“I’ve worked in this field for a long time,” Sawyer said, trying like hell to keep the resentment out ofhisvoice. “I understand budgets. I also understand what happens when people allow budgets to compromise good design.”
“Forget the titanium valves,” Paxton said, slicing the tip of her red pen through the line item. “I’ll give you these,” she said, pointing to the alternative barrier reinforcement he’d suggested. “But keep in mind if we choose to stick with this design, we’re going to have to cut corners somewhere else.”
“Stop taking such a hard line,” Sawyer said. “Budgets get blown all the time. The last three projects I worked on for the state all were over budget by at least thirty percent. The extra money is already figured into the state’s budget, because they know the projects will go over.”
“Not onmyprojects,” she said. “I don’t know how you state boys operate, but one of the things that makes me a good project manager with Bolt-Myer is my accuracy for hitting my budgets and my completion-date targets. This project in Gauthier will be no different.”
“You’re determined to make this difficult, aren’t you? Are you doing this just to spite me?”
She turned her chair toward him, her face full of haughty indignation. “How much weight does that giant ego add when you step on your bathroom scale in the mornings?”
Sawyer ran both hands down his face. It was a conceited thing to say. It was also unfair. Within the first hour of working with her Sawyer had already determined that she was, above all else, a professional.
He held his hands out to her. “I just don’t want everything to turn into a fight, Paxton. I want you to be open to hearing my side.”
“I am open to hearing your side. This isn’t a dictatorship,” she said. “As long asyouunderstand that when it comes down to the final decision, it’smyass that’s on the line. You get to return to your safe government job, but my job security is tied to my performance. I have more riding on this project than you can possibly know, Sawyer, and I will not allow anything to interfere with it. Are we clear on that?”
The intensity in her stare matched the seriousness in her voice. He wanted to refute her words, but they were true. He didn’t have as much at stake when it came to his job. He would be fine no matter what.
But this wasn’t his typical project. His concern superseded his personal well-being. This was about Gauthier.
“We’re clear,” Sawyer answered. “This isn’t just a job to you. I get that. But it isn’t just a job to me, either. I don’t go into work every day just to collect a paycheck. As I’m sure you know, I don’t need to,” he said before she had the chance to throw it in his face. “However, when it comes to this particular project, I am just as invested as you are. The people of Gauthier deserve the best flood-protection system we can provide, and as long as I’m the engineer on this project, they’re going to get it. You need to keep that in mind when you think about your budgets. Now, are you clear aboutthat?”
She held her jaw so rigid that Sawyer was certain it would shatter. Several long, intense moments passed between them, sending the tension in the small conference room into the stratosphere.
Paxton was the first to break. If she’d waited two seconds longer, he would have beaten her to it.
Dammit.He could not take an entire month of these showdowns. He would go crazy.
“I’m willing to compromise on some issues,” she said. “Ifyou can prove that they will make a significant difference to the overall effectiveness of the system. You don’t get to just throw something out there because it’s this cool new technology that you’ve been dying to use.”
It irritated the hell out of him that she would assume that he could be so frivolous, but Sawyer wasn’t up for yet another face-off so soon. He was still catching his breath from the last one.
“Fine,” he said. “So, are we going with the titanium valves?”
She popped a potato chip in her mouth, dusted off her fingers, and said, “No. Next item.”
Chapter 3
Paxton pulled intoa slanted parking slot two spaces down from the entrance to the Gauthier Law Firm. She grabbed her briefcase from the passenger seat and exited the car. As she rounded her front bumper, she looked up and down Main Street, and stopped short. The cashmere-silver BMW 750i that she secretly coveted—yeah, she’d looked up the base price; it was way out of her budget even before she’d bought Belinda the bar—was not it its usual parking spot.
Had she actually made it here before Sawyer?
Yes!
She was going to switch those desks. She was getting her window seat today, dammit.
