Pleasing the Boss

It was midday and I was already feeling like I'd been in a car wreck.

I smirked at my own thought. Of course that was being dramatic. I was aching in muscles I never knew I had. My every limb was sore. Even as I sat in the shade and reveled at the feel of the cool autumn breeze on my slick dirty skin, I knew that mustering the energy to get up and go to work again was going to be painful in of itself.

Honestly I enjoyed working outside. It was just such a drastic change. Sitting against a tree in silence on the side of the road, I stared down at what had become my new uniform. Dirt encrusted jeans. Dusty work boots. Bright orange shirt and a white plastic hat. I never thought I'd find myself here.

I glanced wearily at the lunch cooler beside me. Closing the lid, I wondered if what I'd eaten would be enough to sustain me the rest of the day. For two weeks I'd left work starving, eagerly devouring whatever fast food I could find on the way "home" in my car. I did miss having a good meal. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

I forced myself to stand. I didn't want to look like a weak newbie crumpled under a tree when the others got back. I'd have to get used to this, at least for a while. Limping slightly, I trudged over to the edge of the massive trench in the middle of the street. Peering over the edge of the broken pavement into the chasm filled my throbbing head with vertigo. Only an hour earlier I'd been down there.

The destruction around me was pretty incredible. The massive track hoe loomed over the wound it had carved right through the sleepy neighborhood. The world around was actually breathtaking and peaceful. The homes that lined this wooded street seemed caught in a perfect time, neither so old they were falling apart, nor so new as to feel alien or invasive. Then there were the piles of rubble and broken blacktop in the street. Huge mounds of gravel flanked the machinery that was still parked in the road.

This felt more like a neighborhood I should be living in, not working in.

I turned at the sound of a truck approaching. Gravel crunched and popped beneath its tires as it crept closer, then veered onto the side of the road to park in the grass of someone's yard. All four doors were flung open as the rest of the crew piled out of the truck. I could hear a couple of them laughing, and I had to bat away the thought that they might have seen me there and had made one of their cruel jokes.

Howard, the oldest of the crew in his mid forties, approached me with a small but warm grin.

"You missed out there, Chase."

I furrowed my brow. "I'm sorry?"

"I'll say." One of the younger workers had chimed in, quick witted as ever.

Howard ignored him. "The new barbecue place. Pretty damned good food. Cheap, too. Shoulda' came along."

I shrugged. "Next time maybe. I'm still on the new guy diet. Until I get settled anyway."

"I remember those days," Howard nodded. "There was a time when I was your age I think I ate bologna sandwiches and crackers every day. It'll get better, man, hang in there."

"Don't let him lie to you, Chase!" I heard one of the others call out. Brent, I think was his name. "I been waiting on it to get better for six years man."

Howard smiled at me a shook his head. "Yeah couple DUI's might slow you down, too."

"One and a half, Howie," Brent called back laughing. "That shit at Myrtle Beach on the scooter didn't count."

I chuckled. There was not a second that went by during the work day that Brent or one of the others weren't joking or cursing or giving one another a hard time. I felt a slight twinge of worry deep inside. If I was going to truly fit in here, I'd definitely need thicker skin. It reminded me yet again that I was out of my element.

"You still driving all the way up here?"

I almost hadn't heard Howard's question. He was considerately keeping his voice down so as to keep our conversation private. I looked at him and shook my head.

"Nah, I can't make that drive this far every day," I admitted. "I put myself up at a hotel just for the week. I'm supposed to be looking at an apartment around here this weekend."

Howard gave me what I took for a look of sympathy, though it looked more like a grimace that anything.

"Wouldn't worry about it too much longer, bud," Howard said. "I know I'm gonna be putting in a good word for you with the boss. Trust me he rewards hard work. He's just been burned by a lot of people that show up for about a month and then hit the road."

I only nodded. I wasn't sure how I felt about what Howard was saying.

"Pay will eventually be worth it." Howard nodded to me. "Especially if you keep doing like you're doing. Hard to find good help. Butch pays good workers well."

I stared at the group of men leaning on the truck behind Howard. All of them were different, but they all looked like they belonged. Their arms were defined and tan, their hands were tough and calloused, and they all stood solid like they were built of bricks. Every one of them had beards. Brent had tattoos. Years of work had chiseled them into perfect tools. I wondered if I would do this for that long, if I would become one of them. Could a small scrawny guy like me get molded into that?

"Speak of the devil," I heard Howard say.

I glanced up at him before following his eyes down the street where another truck was bouncing its way across the broken mess of blacktop. It wasn't one of the work trucks, but this truck was even more massive. Right when I saw the black tinted behemoth I knew who was behind the wheel.

Out of reflex I turned and fetched my hard hat from the grass at the side of the road and placed it on my head. It was still technically lunch break, but I didn't want to take any chances. When the bellowing of the diesel motor finally ceased, I watched it's owner swing open the door and climb down onto the street.

"How's it going, Butch?" Howard called.

The huge man shook his head as he slowly stepped over toward the trench in the road. I watched him closely, though it was always tough to get a read on Butch, even when he wasn't wearing those polarized sunglasses.

"I tell ya, boys," Butch started, "I know it's some rough shit being out here, but I'm about ready to trade with one of you if I have to deal with any more of these bureaucratic bastards down at city hall."

"No thanks, Butch," Brent laughed. "My life is messed up enough as is."

Butch studied him before seemingly dismissing him, but said, "I don't even have an argument there."

The crew laughed as Butch slowly stepped over toward Howard and I. I straightened, standing a bit taller and ignoring my exhaustion. I was still not able to put my finger on it. Butch was the boss, of course, so it wasn't unusual to feel like I needed to impress him or not look pathetic. But there was more to it.

I watched his slow methodical walk over toward Howard. The man was like a bear, his every motion seeming to carry massive weight and power. But he was calm and deliberate. Every single time I'd been around him, I felt frail. He was no doubt bigger than I, but he was physically imposing no matter who he was near. His neck seemed like a tree trunk atop huge broad shoulders. What skin I could see looked like worn leather.

"Inspectors giving you trouble?" Howard asked him.

Butch waved his hand. "Nah, just some crap about permits. Stuff that seems more like Gabby's cup of tea. If it weren't for her I'd have probably lost my damn mind and choked someone by now."

The man rubbed his huge hand across the thick salt and pepper flaked beard on his face. Just that simple motion had me staring at his arms. Butch wasn't what anyone would call muscular, but his broad body was like a rock. I could see veins in his forearms. It was like his arms were too big for the skin that covered them.

"Hoping we can wrap this job up in a week or two," Butch grumbled to himself.

"Might be sooner than that," Howard added. "Another day, and this street will be done. Then it's just Sycamore and Elm Street afterward."

Butch turned, his eyebrows lifting at the apparently good news.

"Well damn, Howie," Butch said. "You boys really are moving, huh?"

Howard motioned toward me. "You keep bringing in actual good help like this one, we'll be doing even better."

I could feel myself blushing. Spotlight attention was not something I enjoyed, and now Butch was looking right at me through the lifeless eyes of his shades.

"How're you liking it, Chase?" Butch asked.

I nodded. "I like working outside. It's a great change of pace. Just trying to settle it."

I was only half lying. Butch seemed unfazed. His head tilted toward Howard a bit.

"Not working him to death, are you?" Butch asked. I could barely see the tiniest twitch of a grin hiding under his thick mustache.

"Hey, he doesn't complain, he's a fast learner, and he does whatever we ask," Howard said.

Butch gave a single nod of approval toward me and said, "Well there you go."

Howard began chatting with Butch about details of the job we were standing at, as well as an upcoming project. I tried to pay attention to pick up on a few things but it was mostly foreign language to me. I found myself once again marveling at how big Butch was. He stood with his hands on his hips, a simple pose that somehow looked fierce. The orange shirt he wore looked as though it were on the verge of splitting in certain areas.

My thoughts went to darker areas. I'd seen the guy Kayla had wound up with. It was a big guy not unlike Butch, and though he wasn't as big he was still large enough to dwarf me. I distantly wondered of that was the appeal. Had that been what she wanted? I couldn't help but picture it. Kayla with her supple legs folded behind her head, while Butch hammered himself into her. I could hear her yelp in pain. I could see that mischievous glint in her eye as her lips curled up into a knowing smile.

I blinked. Dear lord, how had that thought spun out of control. The girl was haunting my thoughts. I rubbed my eyes trying to erase the image of my new boss fucking my ex-bride-to-be, and drifted back toward the job site.

"I guess so," Butch was saying. "I better get over there before Jeffrey has it out with the damn dump truck driver."

"Good look with that, big man," Howard said as he stepped away toward the track hoe.

The crew began to drift back toward the hole in the road, grabbing tools as the machinery started back up. I took a breath, knowing I still had half a days worth of a beating to take. I turned to watch Butch slowly lumbering toward his truck, his thick legs fighting each crease in his blue jeans.

At that exact moment I saw Butch whirl and face me. For a few seconds I froze, thinking he'd caught me... what, staring at him?

"Hey, Chase!" Butch called over the rumble of the excavator. "Get over here, bud. I forgot something."

Without hesitation I hurried toward Butch's truck. He was already leaning in the open driver door. I waited patiently as he searched for something in the cab of the truck.

"Well, shit." Butch turned and spat in disgust.

I stared back at him in anticipation.

Butch shook his head and again rubbed a massive hand through that thick neatly trimmed beard of his.

"I'd forget my damn head if it wasn't attached to my shoulders," Butch told me. "Meant to grab your paycheck and bring it out here. Evidently I just thought of doing all that. Didn't actually go through with it."

I nodded and swallowed.

"It's uh... it's f-fine." I licked my dry lips. "I'll get it tomorrow."

Butch stepped forward, which put only about a foot between the two of us. I was looking up at him from under my hard hat... up over a swollen chest into a firm square face. Somehow, I could feel the man's size, as though he had his own gravitational pull.

"Nah, that won't do," Butch told me. "I know you're counting on it, kid. Just stop by and see Gabby before you leave the shop today. She'll know where it's at. She's not scatter brained the way I am."

Butch paused a moment as he looked down at me. I wanted to shrink away and hide somewhere, but I stood my ground.

"Back before we did the deposit thing, I had different crews here," Butch said. "Used to have to wait until Friday afternoon to give out the old paper checks. Gabby had 'em ready by Thursday, but if you paid that bunch on Thursday there was the high chance they found a bar to spend it all at. Half of 'em show up drunk or hungover, some wouldn't show up at all."

I stood in silence. For a while I didn't understand what Butch was telling me.

"Shouldn't have to worry about you, should I bud?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No, sir. As a matter fact I was hoping on being able to stick around and keep a steady check coming in. Turn my situation around."

Butch smiled at me, which was less of a movement by his mouth and more from his cheeks and his hidden eyes. To my surprise, the big man stepped forward, just off to my side, and clasped his arm around my shoulders.

"That's my boy," Butch growled in my ear.

His arm squeezed me, and I could feel it in my chest. Briefly his fingers dug into my shoulders hard enough I made a mental note to check for bruises. Butch spun back toward the truck and pulled himself upward, heaving himself into the seat and slamming the door. I was about to turn back to join the rest of the crew, who had resumed destroying the street, when Butch addressed me again.

"By the way," He said. "Little trick about my wife? If you knew what's good for you, you'll do as she says."

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

For a few seconds Butch just stared back at me. I felt incredibly small. It was as if he was daring me to disagree.

"I didn't get this far on my own, kid," Butch told me. "Gabby's word is just as good as mine. I shouldn't hear otherwise, should I?"

"She'll get nothing but respect from me, sir."

Butch nodded. "That's what I like to hear, bud."

As he put the truck in reverse, Butch only tossed his fingers up to me. I rejoined the crew, watching as the boss pulled away. His last warning about Gabby had been so stern I'd felt it pierce right through me. I still hadn't heard Butch yell or get angry. In my eyes, hearing him grow calmer and more serious was somehow more intimidating.

Yet again, I wondered how long I could handle this. I needed the money. That was absolutely an unwavering truth. Even if it were only for a few more months, I'd have to get a lot tougher.

****

With my lunchbox in hand and my hard hat under my arm, I trudged toward the large metal shop building that my new employers owned. Half of the enormous building was indeed a shop, where numerous machines and different types of equipment were parked. I was already headed toward the section of the building that housed the offices. I had to force my legs to make the trip. I had one more day to go, and my legs felt like spaghetti.

I half heartedly waved to a few of the workers that were leaving for the day. The lot didn't take long to look vacant. Just as I neared the office building, I heard a familiar voice call my name.

"Long day, eh Chase?"

I turned to see Brent walking up behind me. He was on his way out of the gate that encircled the lot, his keys in hand and a bright smile painted on his face. It was a smile that I didn't trust, for I'd mostly seen it when he was mocking me.

"Not too bad," I lied. "Can't wait to hit the sack tonight though."

Brent nodded. "I hear that. Just make sure you don't hit the wrong sack, buddy."

His eyes motioned toward the office building of the shop.

"Something... I should know about?" I asked wearily.

"You seem like a good guy," Brent said. "The last couple of guys did, too. I didn't really warn them, though."

I frowned. "Warn them of what?"

Brent stepped a bit closer, his wolf grin growing a bit more.

"She can be a little... nice," Brent said, his voice growing quieter. "If you know what I mean."

"Who, Gabby?" I asked.

"Uh huh." Brent was looking toward the office window as if he were expecting the blinds to open. "She was extra friendly with a few of the last boys Butch brought in. Think it took him a few months to figure it out."

I waited. "And then?"

Brent smiled at me again. "And then they didn't come back to work."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "So Butch murdered them, I guess?"

He laughed. "Nah, nothing like that. Just thought I'd give you a heads up. She tries it with everyone, buddy. Don't let it go to your head. Ol Butch must not have the stamina anymore. Why you think she came after a young bull like me?"

I scoffed and shook my head. "Wow."

"I'm too smart for that, though," Brent assured me.

"I'll uh, keep it in mind," I said.

"You do that." He was already walking away. "See you tomorrow, Chase! Maybe."

I heard him laughing to himself. Shaking my head, I sighed and pulled open the office door.

I had spoken to Gabby on the phone extensively when I was applying for the job, but had only met her once, on my first day to sign some paperwork. Even that day, she had seemed in quite the rush. But I knew I liked her. Gabby had the warmest personality of anyone I'd met at the company. Walking down the hall, I tried to remember if her door was last on the left, or the one just before it.

As I passed the other offices, the doors were wide open and the lights inside each were all off. It was rather late. It didn't surprise me to know the office personnel, what few there were, left earlier than the workers on the job sites. This made it a lot easier to guess that the last door on the left that was closed was most likely Gabby's.

Glancing around, I set my things on the floor in the hall just beside the door. Other than the sound of the air moving through the vents above me, it was silent. I lifted my hand to knock on the door... but I paused. Everything seemed a bit weird in that moment. I thought of what Brent had said. I wasn't exactly fond of the guy, but how much merit was there to his warning? Was this a trap?

I sighed. I'd seen Gabby before. Yes, the woman was absolutely gorgeous. I knew in my mind a woman that looked as good as she did, who was married to a brute like Butch, was not about to go for a skinny twenty-four year old dork like myself. I pecked softly on the door.

"Come in," a voice called from within.

I eased the door open and peeked inside.

Gabby sat at her huge wooden desk in the far corner of the room. Her inquisitive eyes lit up when she saw me.

"Hey, Chase!" Gabby pushed herself back in her chair and immediately stood to greet me. "Come on in here, don't be shy!"

I stepped into the office. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to find the right words. Gabby quickly stepped around and headed right toward me. I froze, unsure of what to do with myself. Mostly, I tried to figure out where to steer my eyes. Her smile grew bigger as she neared. Gabby passed beside me and shut the door.

For about a split second I breathed a sigh of relief. But she was right in front of me now. Her blonde curls spilled out around her shoulders and her white blouse, which barely seemed enough to fit the older woman. I dared not look down, fixing my eyes on hers... which were far more powerful. Heavy shades of shadow encircled her bright green smiling eyes.

"Well, how's it going out there?" Gabby began quickly. "You settling in okay?"

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, everything's great so far."

Gabby's grin grew wider. "You're not letting those boys beat you up too bad, are you? I know they like to abuse one another all the time. Especially our new guys."

I relaxed a bit and offered her a weak smile. "No, I think I can handle them."

"You stopping in to see me tonight?" Gabby still smiled, her eyes narrowing slightly.

I balked at the question, but powered ahead.