Trevor
adjusted his goggles and jumped. He might as well have dived into liquid ice.
The bone chilling water enveloped him, slicing through his flesh with numbing
clarity. The painful cold caused every hair on his body to stand on end and set
his teeth to chattering. His breath effectively stolen by the freezing water,
he managed to fight to the surface of the pool.
He
stared at his work crew in shock, unable to think of a single cuss word.
"Cold,
ain't it hombre?" Rufus, the only Mexican on the crew asked. Rufus stood a
mere five feet four inches tall, with jet black hair in careless disarray, his
typical work uniform of jeans and baggy tee shirt threadbare, but clean. He
held Trevor's towel in a crumpled wad of disheveled terry cloth. Trevor eyed
the towel, anxious to wrap himself in its warmth.
He
tried to glare at each of his three employees in turn. Was his face frozen solid? His eyes seemed the only organs still
responding to brain impulses. No wonder the guys refused to inspect the pools. What had he been thinking? He'd been
thinking of how to get a jump on the competition and save his floundering
company at the same time. The company, his legacy and inheritance upon his
father's passing, or rather forty-nine percent of it. His mother, in
conjunction with the stockholders, owned the other fifty-one percent.
Trevor
had shown a propensity for designing pools early in his life and over the years
his father had made Trevor's drawings a reality with several of the pools
installed in the greater Las Vegas area. Trevor much preferred designing to
installing or maintaining. Conceiving, planning and drawing were the part of
the business Trevor did best. Running a crew proved his downfall last summer.
If he couldn't manage these guys they might all end-up unemployed. He had to
find a way to prove to himself, his mother, and the stockholders his value as
more than a rich, spoiled screw up.
The
outdoor temperature in the sun at this hour boasted 52°F and rising. Not bad
for a brisk walk, but not the overly warm triple digits this same pool area
would harbor in three month’s time. People wanted to use their pools as soon as
the temperatures hit the low eighties which required inspecting and repairing
the pools in cooler temperatures.
"Ready
to get out Boss-man?" Brodie, the smart-aleck on the crew, crossed his
arms over his chest. Not an easy feat for a guy with a chest circumference of
fifty plus inches and arms to match.
Anxious
to get out of this fix without losing face should have been Trevor's first
concern, but survival preempted his faulty leadership skills. His gaze fell on
Darin, the youngest man on the crew and Brodie's 'little' brother. Both
brothers wore Under Armour and jeans for work this morning. Brodie often beat
Darin's tender hearted emotions out of him whether physically or by shear
intimidation of muscle and strength. Even so, Darin didn't let Trevor down this
time.
"Guys,"
Darin hesitantly pleaded. "His lips are turning blue. Shouldn't we help
him out?"
Brodie
dropped his arm, his palm toward Darin as if to catch him with an underhand
swing. "Not 'til he admits we aren't 'girly-men.' What do you say Trevor?
Are we being 'girly-men' for refusing to jump into these unheated pools for
another month or so?"
Chilled
to the bone, Trevor did his best to swim toward the pool steps at the shallow
end of the pool. As soon as he thought he could reach, he put his feet down to
touch the bottom of the pool. Had the guys warned him the cement owned colder
temperatures than the icy water he would have laughed. Now he could barely gasp
in shock.
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