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She used the time to study him. Learning to read a man’s character had become a means of survival. After spending just two weeks at the High Stakes, she had been able to determine which men were harmless, which would require a firm hand and which to avoid altogether.
Unfortunately, Miss Maggie’s girls hadn’t had the luxury of refusing to entertain a paying customer, a problem Jessie had never faced. Ace had promised that no one would bother her, provided she allowed everyone to believe she was his little lady. And no one had.
She’d come to know the Lord during those difficult days. He’d protected her and helped her leave that life behind.
Based on what she’d seen on the way home the day before, Flynt had a strong dislike of saloons and wouldn’t set foot in one. She certainly couldn’t imagine him ogling a woman the way Ace’s patrons had ogled her. Flynt had shown her kindness and consideration from the outset. Working for such a man would be a pleasure.
Kurt muttered something, but she ignored him. She’d worked hard to get where she was. Some people weren’t going to be happy, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. If she’d let the naysayers have their way, she would still be sweeping floors and emptying dustbins at Mr. Fullerton’s office back in Chicago.
Bless the kindly engineer. Thanks to him, she’d been able to leave the High Stakes behind and learn how to draw. All because he’d found her one sunny Sunday six years ago sketching the quaint church she’d attended back East and had given her a job at his engineering firm. She’d come to California in ’70, armed with the knowledge she’d acquired from Mr. Fullerton, and had finally gotten her first drafting job two years later when Mr. Bishop hired her.
Flynt quickly outlined her next assignment, and then he turned and addressed his team. “In honor of Jessie completing her first drawing, you may leave for lunch early. Enjoy yourselves.”
Rather than joining the others, Jessie found a shady spot behind the office and enjoyed a solitary meal. She hadn’t seen a hydraulic mining operation up close before, so she watched in awe as the huge monitors shot high-powered streams of water up to five hundred feet, blasting away the hillside. The process was fascinating, even if the destruction of such beautiful scenery wasn’t. The miners needed the water from the canal she would help design, but she preferred to think about the crops that would flourish with a proper irrigation system.
The whistle blew, signaling the end of the break. She deposited her lunch pail in the closet, washed up and returned to the Den, eager to begin her next drawing.
She entered to find Trace and George standing in front of a brand-new drafting table in the spot between Kurt’s board and Flynt’s, which had been empty before.
Trace turned, a grin on his face. “Look what was delivered while we were at lunch.”
George sauntered to her side. “Allow me to escort you to your station.” He held out his arm.
She wrapped one hand around his elbow and pressed the other to her chest. “That lovely board is mine?”
Trace loped over to take her other arm. “It’s a beauty, isn’t it?”
Kurt, seated at his drafting table, spit his response. “It’s fancy.”
That it was. The four draftsmen’s tables had plain black bases with three heavy brass feet. Her board’s base was all black with beautiful gold stenciling.
Kurt kept his focus on his drawing. “Wait until Arnold sees it. He’ll have something to say, for sure.”
Trace gave her arm a brotherly squeeze before releasing it. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just upset on account of his board isn’t as fine.”
“Yours is very nice, Jessie. Look at this.” George pulled out a drawer on the upper left. “There’s a matching one on the other side.”
“Sure is.” Trace pulled it open. “There’s something inside. Instructions perhaps?” He pulled out a cylindrical piece of paper and handed it to Jessie.
She unrolled it and spread it on the drafting board. Her drafting board. “It’s a drawing.”
“For a drafting stool?” Trace scratched his head. “Why?”
“That’s a good question.” George stood behind her and placed his hand so close to hers they practically touched.
She pulled hers away and ran a fingertip over the legend, where the initials FK appeared. According to the date, Flynt had completed the drawing the day before. But what had prompted him to do so? And why was the drawing in the drawer of her drafting board? She checked the dimensions. The stool had a circular rung right where she would need it.
“Look!” George directed her attention to a penciled note at the bottom of the paper. The notation indicated that the stool was being built by a furniture maker downtown and would be delivered by the end of the week. “It seems you’re going to have a stool just your size.”
As much as Flynt’s gesture meant to her, he’d given her special attention. She couldn’t allow that. “Excuse me, please. I need to speak with Flynt.” She headed for the door.
Trace stopped her. “What’s wrong, Jessie? Don’t you like the board?”
“I do, but...” She glanced at Kurt, whose rigid posture and jerky movements evidenced his displeasure. “I’ll be back.”
She found Flynt in the hallway. “Why did you do it?”
He stopped short. “What did I do?”
“You designed a stool for me. Between that and the new board...” She shook her head. “It’s different than the others. It should be the same.”
“I designed the stool, but I had nothing to do with the board. You’ll have to take that up with Corby.” He jabbed a thumb toward the manager’s office. “It was all his doing.”
Her irritation faded. She softened her voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just that I don’t appreciate being singled out. It’s hard enough for me to gain acceptance as it is.”
“That wasn’t my intention. I saw how sitting on an ill-fitting stool caused you discomfort. My goal was simply to make things easier on you.”
Her lips parted. She quickly pressed them together, drew in a calming breath and attempted to set things right. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. As I said before, I’m not used to being shown such consideration.”
But Flynt wasn’t like many of the other men she’d known. “The stool will be wonderful. I look forward to using it. And I do appreciate your thoughtfulness, even though I misinterpreted things.”
“Apology accepted.” He held out a hand toward the Den. “How about returning to your station so I can get you started on that new drawing?”
“I want to talk with Corby.”
“I know. You will. Later.”
He was right. Approaching their manager in her present state wasn’t a good idea. Besides, the beautiful drafting table could be his way of showing her that he wasn’t as resistant to having her there as he’d led her to believe. She’d have to give that some thought.
The afternoon passed quickly. Working on her new board was a joy.
Before Jessie knew it, the whistle for the mine’s shift change blew, signaling the end of their workday. She put her tools away and gathered her things from the closet. Lunch pail in hand, she hurried to Corby’s office and rapped on the door.
“Come in.”
She stepped into the smoky room and was transported back in time to the High Stakes, where the air had been blue on busy nights. She shoved aside the memory. “Good evening, sir. Do you have a minute?”
“Indeed. I was actually going to call you in. Would you ask Flynt to join us, please? I have something important to discuss with the two of you before Harvey shows up with the wagon.”
Corby’s serious tone didn’t bode well. “Yes, sir, but first I wanted to discuss my drafting board.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s wonderful, but—” she summoned her courage, which had a tendency to falter when he frowned, as he did now “—I don’t know that it’s the wisest choice.”
“Why’s that?”
She clutched the handle of her lunch pail so tightly it dug into her palm. “It draws attention to the fact that I’m a woman.”
“You are a woman, Jessie.” A fact he liked to point out. “According to my wife, Delia, women like pretty things. Isn’t that right?”
There would be no arguing with him, so she might as well accept his generosity. “Thank you for the board. It’s very nice, but I would appreciate it if you would treat me like the other members of Flynt’s team from now on.”
“Your request is noted. Now, if you’ll get Flynt...” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
She located Flynt in front of the office and relayed Corby’s request.
Flynt fell into step beside her. “Did he say what it’s about?”
“No. Just that it’s important and won’t take long.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with your drafting board, does it?”
She shook her head. “That matter’s been resolved.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Flynt opened the door to Corby’s office and followed her inside.
Corby looked up. “Good. You’re here.”
Flynt pulled out a chair for her, and she took a seat. Then he sat. “What’s this about?”
Jessie admired his forthright manner. She’d learned to speak her mind without preamble as men did, but her confidence wavered in the face of Corby’s scowl.
He gathered the papers on his desktop into a single pile, thumped them on the surface to even the edges and set the stack aside. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “As I feared, having a woman on the team has created challenges.”
A sense of foreboding filled Jessie. “If it’s about the drawing board, I apologize for taking issue with it.”
Corby shook his head, causing the ends of his massive mustache to dance. “It has nothing to do with that.”
She chose to be as direct as Flynt had been. “Then what did you want to discuss, sir?”
“Your presence in the Den has caused quite a stir. The fellows have spent far too much time vying for your attention—or fighting you. I’ve come up with possible solutions sure to get things back on track.”
Corby paused, bouncing his gaze between her and Flynt, which unsettled her even more.
“What did you have in mind?” Flynt leaned forward, clearly as eager to find out what ideas Corby had come up with as she.
“Moving Jessie to a different location would solve the problem.” Corby shifted his attention to her. “There’s a small room down the hall opposite the surveyors’ office. Working there would eliminate the distraction in the Den and give you privacy.”
“That won’t do.” Flynt’s tone was firm. “There are no windows, just a skylight. That’s insufficient. When she leaned over, she would cast shadows on her drawing.”
She couldn’t endure such conditions. Even if the lighting wasn’t an issue, the isolation would be. “I agree. And I need to be near Flynt. His direction is essential.”
Corby nodded. “That’s true, which is why I came up with a viable alternative. We could move your board to the end of the row and create a partition between your station and the others. You would have adequate lighting and wouldn’t be a distraction.”
Flynt responded in a firm tone. “She shouldn’t be shut off by herself just because she’s a woman. She’s a member of my team and deserves the same treatment as everyone else.”
Emboldened by Flynt’s show of support, she challenged Corby. “There’s got to be something else that could be done. Couldn’t Flynt just tell them to get back to work? He is their boss, after all.”
“He has, numerous times, but they’re young men. If there’s an attractive, available young woman in their midst, they’re going to be watching her. They can’t help themselves. What we need is an invisible barrier, so to speak.”
Flynt’s brow creased in confusion. “What do you mean? You’re obviously not talking about a sheet of glass.”
Corby fingered his watch fob. The jangling of the gold chain heightened Jessie’s apprehension. “If the two of you were to spend time together, that could solve the problem.”
Relief relaxed her shoulders, which she hadn’t realized she’d tensed. Corby’s request was a simple one. “We will, especially if I’m working closely with Flynt on designs.”
Flynt speared a hand through his thick hair, leaving it tousled. She fought the urge to reach up and straighten it for him. “I don’t think he means here in the Den, Jessie.”
“He’s right.” Corby looked her full in the face. His own registered determination, with his brow furrowed and mouth tight. “My plan is for the two of you to be seen together outside of work at social functions and such.”
She inhaled sharply and squeezed a response through her tight throat. “But if we did that, people might think we were...courting.”
Corby nodded. “Exactly. If the fellows believed Flynt was interested in you, they would leave you alone, complete their assigned tasks in a timely manner and enable us to meet our deadlines. We’ve been hard-pressed to meet them as it is, so it’s imperative these delays cease immediately.” His firm tone brooked no resistance.
Flynt had been silent. Too silent. She struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice. “What do you think? Surely you have another idea.”
He looked as nonplussed as she felt. “I wish I did.”
So did she. What Corby was asking was preposterous—and totally unfair. And here she’d thought he welcomed her. He had ordered a special drafting board just for her, after all. How wrong she’d been.
Corby opened a desk drawer and withdrew two small pieces of paper, which he handed to Flynt. “These are tickets to the Philharmonic Society’s concert this coming Saturday evening. I look forward to seeing the two of you there—together.”
Flynt stared at the tickets with pursed lips. Clearly he didn’t like this any more than she did.
“Must we do this, sir? I don’t want Flynt forced into being my make-believe beau.” She cringed inwardly at the fanciful term that had slipped out.
“The way I see it, that’s the only option. I can’t have the work disrupted. If you want to retain your position, you’ll accept my terms. If not, I’ll be forced to hire a man instead.”
“But you bought a drafting table especially for me.”
Corby waved a hand dismissively. “That’s no problem. I could exchange it for another model if I needed to.”
What choice did she have? Corby had made it clear that if she didn’t agree, he would replace her.
But if she was to go along with Corby’s plan, she couldn’t enact it alone. She turned toward Flynt and summoned her courage. “I know what I have to gain by agreeing to this...charade, but what reason would you have for doing so?” As a college-educated engineer with years of experience, his position was secure.
“I would get to work with an excellent draftswoman.”
Corby intervened. “Once the situation improves, I could ask the board to add a bonus to his next paycheck. Provided the increased productivity warrants it, of course.”
Jessie stood, and Flynt jumped to his feet. She stiffened her spine and faced him. “Very well. If you’re willing to accompany me to events, I’ll do my part.”
Would the offer of a bonus entice him to agree? Her future at the company hinged on his answer.
* * *
Jessie had actually agreed?
