Sawyer pointed in the general direction of the school where the meeting had been held. “He calledthatheated? 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 reallyisthat 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.
“Anyone with any sense would recognize that coming in slightly over budget is nothing compared to the toll it would take on a community if it floods,” Sawyer said in a tone so thick with disgust that only an idiot wouldn’t realize just how pissed he was.
Of course, Claywasan idiot, so the icy atmosphere around the table was lost on him.
“Maybe in your line of work,” he said with a guffaw. “But that’s not how we do things in the private sector, buddy.”
“Well, maybe the private sector should change its practices,” Sawyer said.
“Spoken like a state engineer,” Clay said, clapping his hand on Sawyer’s shoulder.
It was obvious that he had no idea Sawyer was ready to pummel him. For just a second, Paxton was tempted to let them go at it, but she knew it would only cause more problems. She quickly turned the conversation to a fellow coworker who had just won a bid for a nuclear power plant upgrade, the first for Bolt-Myer.
