Christmas at the Cabin | ONC 2023 (Complete)

Three | Wrong Place, Wrong Time

"We aren't going to make the meeting," I radio back to Bee an hour later. "Can you call Damien's associate and reschedule?"

"Sure," Bee replies. "Want me to give you an extra hour?"

"What's the time?" I ask, not wanting to pull my watch out of my warm sleeve again.

"Just past noon."

It's still possible, but he's lagging. There's too many decisions to weigh.

"It seems really important that we arrive at this meeting on time," I say. "Maybe we should push it two hours just to make sure. I'm not confident an extra hour is enough."

"Consider it done, Amelia. I'm off in an hour, so Jasmine will be in to replace me. I'll make sure she knows what's going on."

"Thanks, Bee. I appreciate you."

"Any time. I'll let you know when it's done."

"Two hours?" Damien fumes, stomping back to the path after dealing with nature's call. The one place I really refused to tell him what to do, hoping he could figure it out on his own. Seems he managed that at least.

"Two hours what?" I ask, hoping he didn't hear everything.

"You pushed my meeting by two hours?"

"I—" How did he figure that out?

He holds up the radio. "You really shouldn't have taught me how to use this before you had that secret call with your friend."

Cringe.

"And especially since you two felt the need to gossip about me and my dealings with Mr. Pavlides."

"You heard that, too?" I'm just glad he can't see my blush creeping up my cheeks behind my scarf and hood.

"Why would you make that decision without me?" he practically roars, but I resist the urge to cower.

"Because it isn't a decision," I step into his space and press up on my toes so I'm a little taller. "I'm not deciding how long it's going to take us, I'm estimating our arrival time based on speed, distance, and known conditions. I could still be off, but it's not a decision. It's a calculation."

"It's more than that." He also steps in, probably trying to intimidate me. And I admit it's working just a little bit. "You decided he shouldn't wait for us. You decided to push it two hours instead of push us. You never asked if I could go faster than we are."

He's right about that. "Can you?" I challenge. "I know how important it is for you to make the meeting, so I estimated high. What's so wrong with that?"

"Because he's... Ugh you don't understand anything."

"I'm not supposed to, Sir." I emphasize the last word. "I'm supposed to be communicating as little as possible and being complicit in this little farce you have going to impress this guy. And I'll do it because you're paying us too well not to. But that is all I will do. And I will not be spoken to like that. I'm out here busting my ass and working extra hours so you can get where you need to go. Safely. I've already given up on receiving any thanks, but you could at least try not to degrade me."

"I didn't degrade you," he pulls back. "I'd just appreciate you running things by me before you change meetings with the client. He's very particular about time and—"

"Time is money," I interrupt. "I remember."

Is it possible Mr. Crabby Pants is smiling?

"I was going to say he won't appreciate me moving the meeting by two hours without an explanation."