Drilling Deep

I’ve spent the last decade and a half on this oil rig, aside from the few times my supervisors forced me to take time off out of concern that I would go stir-crazy. They don’t understand that I like the solitude and manual labor this job requires. No one does.

As the Drilling Rig Foreman, it’s my responsibility to oversee daily operations and jump in when necessary. That part, I don’t mind. It’s the paperwork and filing reports that are killing me.

The big boss has a “brilliant” idea to send his daughter to my rig for a month to help me get things organized. Cora is bright, bubbly, and tragically uncoordinated. She might have a knack for filing systems, but her clumsiness is becoming an issue. Mostly because I feel the need to follow her around and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.

I can’t explain the urge to wrap Cora up in a blanket and tuck her into my bed. Never felt this way about another human being. My defenses don’t stand a chance against her sweetness and sunshine. When her father finds out about us, I have to convince Cora she can trust me with her future. Failure is not an option.