Tension Released

MaintenanceRequired

The factory's break room smelled like burnt popcorn and microwaved spaghetti. Samantha sat hunched at the corner table picking half heartedly at a turkey sandwich she didn't remember packing. The first half of her day had been chaos, paperwork, safety training, a quick tour that left her more confused than before. Everyone seemed nice enough, but there was a hardness to the place, a rhythm she hadn't quite found yet. She could feel her body buzzing with stress. It wasn't the kind of buzzing that didn't go away with deep breaths. It lived under her skin. It had roots. Jordan had been the only calm moment in the storm, and that scared her more than it soothed her. Don't look for safety in strangers she reminded herself. That's how she got here in the first place, She glanced around. A few employees lingered near the vending machines, cracking jokes and comparing scars, literal ones, from tools or machines, the kind you bragged about here. She wasn't part of the conversations, and she didn't try to be. She'd never really been a part of anything. "Hey Samantha" She looked up sharply to see a woman in a blue polo and steel toed shoes standing in the door way. It was Tina. Samantha straightened "Yes." Tina gave her a clipboard and a smile. "Can you head over to machine bay 3 ? Looks like your machine has been reassigned and they need help moving some equipment over." "Me?" Sam blinked. "I mean:: sure of course." Tina nodded. "You won't be alone. They'll show you, shouldn't take long. Machine bay 3 was louder. Hotter. The air buzzed with power tools, the hiss of welding, and the occasional bark of laughter. Samantha hesitated just inside the threshold suddenly wishing she could disappear. And then as if summoned by some cruel trick of the universe he was there.

Jordan.

This time he wasn't just passing through. He was standing over a cluttered workbench, hands dirty,shirt clinging slightly to his back. His hair was messier than before, and something about the way he moved... Focused, relaxed, like he belonged here, made bet chest tighten. He spotted her instantly. Look who they sent to help he said with a crooked grin spreading across his face. Samantha froze. "If I'm on the way, I can.... "You're not." He grabbed a pair of gloves from the bench and tossed them to her. Come on, we are just moving a press back to the north wall. Won't bite. She pulled the gloves on clumsily. "You sure" I'm new. I don't know what I'm doing yet. He shrugged Nobody does. They just pretend louder. That made her laugh. Again. Which was becoming a problem. They worked in sync, slowly, carefully. She wasn't strong, but she was precise, and Jordan noticed. When she anticipated his movement and adjusted the equipment brace without being asked, he gave a small approving nod. "You've done factory work before?" He asked. She shook her head. "No, I was a waitress and I done some retail, worked as a bartender for a while. Hmm. Explains the hustle he said. He didn't press her for details. He didn't ask about her past, and she thought that was a little odd, and it made her like him a little more for not asking.

Suspicious maybe.

After the job was done and the machine was settled, he peeled off his gloves and looked at her with that calm, unreadable expression.

"Not bad for a rookie."

"Not bad for a guy with grease on his eyebrow."

He wiped it, grinning. "You'll fit in here"

That simple sentence made something tighten in her throat. She didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. Back at the locker, she sat alone again, trying to quite the storm in her chest. She was supposed to to be focusing on her kid, new job, finding a new place to live, herself.

Not one men. Not again.

But there was something in the way Jordan had looked at her, like she wasn't broken. Like she wasn't chaos. Like she was just a..... person. And that somehow, was the most dangerous feeling of all.