8. Jordan

Jordan

O h my God, those abs! I knew Jim was fit, it was obvious through the tee shirts and jeans he wore to work every day and all the heavy lifting he did, but I hadn't been prepared for actual washboard abs. It had taken every bit of self-control to keep from moving closer and tracing those ridges with my tongue.

Then I'd remembered that I was eight years older than him and also his boss, and that cooled my ardor like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.

I walked fast as I made my way back to our sector of the factory, hoping that a little bit of exertion would clear my head. My footsteps echoed off the drab concrete walls as I clomped down the hallway. These steel toed boots were heavy, and you couldn't help but sound like an elephant when walking in them. Or so I told myself.

When Jim backed the forklift into that post I'd come close to panicking. And I wasn't a person who panicked about anything. It was weird, I didn't know him at all, but for some reason the thought of Jim getting hurt made me freak out. I didn't fully relax until I saw him pulling the forklift away from the post an hour later, sending me a wink as he drove towards the machine shop to have the guys take a look at the damage.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Right before quitting time Jim found me at my computer, filling out the end of shift reports.

"See you at LJ's?" he asked.

I nodded without looking at him. "Yeah, I'll be there, probably be about half an hour though."

He gave me a smile that made my panties incinerate. He had this way of looking at me that was like I had one hundred percent of his attention at all times. "Okay, see you then."

After I finished my reports and briefed the foreman on the next shift I headed into the locker room to get my stuff and clean up a bit. I kept deodorant in my locker, so I freshened up my pits, swished some mouthwash, and re-did the bun that contained my thick, curly hair.

I preferred it down, but it wasn't safe in a factory. Normally I pulled it down as soon as I got home from work, but since I was heading out to the bar I figured I'd keep it pulled back. I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard. Of course, that didn't stop me from applying a bit of lip gloss before I went out to my car.

LJ's was a large bar just up the road. I'd been around long enough to know that this was the go-to place for anyone at the factory who wanted to grab a beer after their shift. Whoever had the foresight to open the only bar in a two mile radius right next to the town's largest employer was a genius.

Jim was at a table in the corner with three other people. When he saw me come in, he waved me over. I moved to the open chair next to him and gave everyone a smile.

"Hi, I'm Jordan."

"Jordan, this here is Leo," Jim said, pointing at an old guy that was somewhere between sixty and eighty years old, it was hard to tell. "Leo has the distinction of being our longest term employee."

I reached across the table to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, Leo."

"I'm George," a hulking man next to Leo said. "Welcome to our little corner of the world."

After I shook his hand I turned to the other woman at the table. "I'm Lillian," she said, giving me a warm smile. "I'm always glad to meet another woman in this sea of testosterone."

I learned that the trio all worked in Jim's regular sector. It was obvious from all the teasing and inside jokes that this group had known each other for a long time and were good friends despite their obvious differences. I liked them all right away.

"How's Jimmy doing over there in your sector?" Lillian asked as she poured me a beer from the pitcher in the middle of the scarred table. "He gettin' into any trouble?"

"Jimmy?" I laughed.

For some reason, the nickname called to mind a little boy.

Jim rolled his eyes. "They've known me since I started working at the factory when I was just out of high school. I was still going by Jimmy then."

"We taught the kid everything he knows about manufacturing," Leo added.

"Well you should have taught him how to back up a forklift," I said, sending my employee a teasing smile.

"What happened?" Lillian asked, sending Jim a concerned look.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Miss Lillian, just a little accident. Nobody got hurt and all they had to do was hammer out the metal and the forklift was as good as new."

"You had an accident? David's gonna be pissed," George piped up. He was definitely the quietest of the bunch.

Jim shrugged. "Accidents happen. I'm just glad nobody got hurt."

We spent the next hour and a half talking and making our way through two pitchers of beer and an enormous basket of fries. I didn't drink much as a rule, so I switched to water after my second beer just to make sure I was okay to drive. And to keep myself from doing something stupid, like jumping my employee.

Somehow Jim's chair seemed to be moving closer and closer to me, although I never saw it happening, until his leg was pressing against mine from hip to ankle. His shoulder bumped me every time he moved his arm, and the heat of his body warmed me until I felt like I should fan myself.

He was different here, maybe because he felt more comfortable with his friends than he did with the new crew in our sector. At the factory, he seemed very serious, intense almost. But with his friends, his entire demeanor was more lighthearted. I'd heard from David Weston and another foreman that Jim had a reputation as a jokester, but while working for me, he'd been nothing but mature. Tonight he joked and teased and seemed almost flirty with me.

I would have thought I was imagining it, but I'd noticed his friends exchanging meaningful glances as they watched us together.

Lillian left first, telling us she needed to get home to her boys. I'd learned that between her and her husband they had six boys, although two of them were away at college. I shuddered thinking about how loud her house must be. I'd lived alone ever since I was in my early twenties, and I loved my peace and quiet.

George left next, leaving just Leo, Jim, and myself. The older man seemed reluctant to leave, and I had the sense that maybe he was lonely. I almost asked if he had someone at home, but I didn't want to upset him if he didn't. Finally Leo pushed himself away from the table.

"It was a pleasure meetin' you Miss Jordan, but I got to get home and feed my cat," he said. "I hope to see you again some time."

Leo looked between me and Jim with a look I couldn't decipher. "I'll let Jimmy here make sure you get to your car okay."

"Oh, I'm fine," I protested. "I'm from Detroit. I can take care of myself."

"I'm going that way anyway," Jim said mildly. "Might as well walk together."

Usually guys who acted protective of the women they knew irritated me, but for some reason with Jim I found it charming.

"Okay then."

We said goodbye to Leo, who stated he needed to ‘hit the head' before he drove home and walked outside to the parking lot. There was a large deck on the side of the bar, filled with a group of loud talking smokers, but the lot itself was relatively quiet.

"This is me," I said, pointing at my ancient Camry.

"Thanks for coming out with us," Jim said, "You should join us again."

"I'm sure I will. Your friends are nice."

I opened the door, sliding into the driver's side, and turned the key. Instead of turning over, the car just made a loud clicking noise. Frowning, I pulled the key out, reinserted it, then tried to start it again. Another clicking noise.

I jumped as I heard a knock on the window. I'd thought Jim had taken off to his own car, but he was standing there, motioning me to open the door.

"Sounds like your starter is dead," he said.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"I recognize the sound."

"Are you sure it's not my battery?" I asked. "Maybe someone can give me a jump."

He reached in and turned on the lights. They illuminated right away. "It's your starter. We'll have to get you towed to Jenson's garage."

"Okay," I said, pulling out my phone. "I'll call Triple A."

"No sense doing that. Triple A is gonna call Jenson's, which is closed for the night. They're the only mechanic in a fifty mile radius. You're not going to be able to do anything until morning."

I stared at him like he wasn't speaking English. Living in a small town was new to me. For most things, you could get help any hour of the day back in Detroit.

"Come on," Jim said. "I'll give you a ride home."