his number and would call him this afternoon.
“A
permit problem, but Ken helped out.”
“Great.”
She’d follow up with Ken, one of the safety officers.
Joe
handed her a report. “The incidents for the shift.”
Bridget
glanced through the short list. A twisted ankle and a level transmitter that
was sticking, which meant a tank could potentially overflow. She sighed. So
much of the plant was rundown and needed replacing. She had her own project to
replace relief valves on the crude tower that were venting to atmosphere.
“I
hear the new safety manager’s starting today,” Joe said.
“That’s
the rumor.”
“What’s
he like?”
She
looked up. “No idea. I don’t even know his name.”
“It’s
tough they didn’t give it to you. We all wanted you to get it.”
Bridget
smiled. He was genuinely upset for her. It was nice to be appreciated. “It is
what it is. Anything else I need to know?”
“Nah. That’s about it.”
“Great.
Why don’t you go home?”
“Hallelujah
to that.”
Bridget
chatted with the incoming shift supervisor and made sure he knew about the
sticking level transmitter.
“Bridge,
that thing always sticks. It’s the nature of the stuff. It’s murder on
equipment. It usually unsticks itself.”
“If
the tank overflows we could be in serious trouble.” The likelihood might be low
but the consequences were very high.
“All right. I’ll get one of the guys to raise a work order.”
“Thanks.”
She’d have to remember to check it was done. Part of the problem was the guys
on the plant were so used to its quirks, they didn’t recognize the potential
incident. “Don’t forget to remind your guys not to cut through the units.”
Each
section of the plant was a separate unit, surrounded by a concrete containment
area. Roads divided the units and workers were meant to use those roads, but
too many of them took shortcuts to save time. It was also bad practice, as
everyone had to sign on to the exact unit they were working in so they knew
exactly where everyone was if an emergency occurred.
“Sure thing.” He turned to his computer.
Bridget
sighed. She’d been dismissed. Most of the guys thought she was overly safety conscious
to the point of being pedantic but she couldn’t help it. She knew what it was
like for someone not to make it home from work.
“Have
a safe shift.” Replacing her hard hat, she strode across to the administration
building where her office was located. She had another hour or so before her
new boss arrived and she wanted to write some notes so he knew the current
status of safety at the plant.
Stopping
by the breakroom, she poured another coffee, greeted a few co-workers who were
early starters like herself, and then retreated to her office and turned on her
computer. She opened her email, scanned quickly to make sure there was nothing
urgent, and then began to type a report for the new manager. Management might
not think she was capable of doing the job, but she wanted to give her new boss
a good first impression.
A
knock on her door had Bridget glancing at the time. Already half past nine and
she hadn’t left her computer. She turned around to find Anthony, the human
resources manager, standing at the door.
“Bridget,
I want to introduce you to our new safety manager, and your new boss. I thought
the two of you could have a chat, and then you could call a department meeting
and introduce him to the team.”
Bridget
stood. “Sure, Anthony.”
He
turned to gesture the person into the room. “This is Jackson Gibbs.”
Bridget’s
stomach dropped and she gasped. She blinked quickly, hoping her eyes were
playing tricks on her.
They
weren’t. Jack was standing there, with the thick brown hair she’d dug her
fingers into on Saturday night, and those brown eyes looked as stunned as she
felt.
Holy hell.
The
disappointment felt like a heavy brick in her stomach. The one guy she’d
connected with since Lionel, and he was her new