“What is it?” I asked, a little sharper than usual.
“Nothing. I’ll ask Marcello when he gets back.”
My hackles rose. “Is it an engineering question?”
Duncan looked me straight in the eyes. “Yes.”
A four-year Bachelor’s degree in environmental engineering. A master’s degree in environmental and forest management. Throughout it all, I worked as a part-time apprentice with Forestry and Land Scotland, which enabled me to secure a job as an engineer with them straight out of university. I’d experienced zero misogynism during my apprenticeship and walked into my job a little naive.
My first job as a woman in charge of a site roaming with men was eye-opening. They constantly deferred to the project manager, and unlike Marcello, this guy quite enjoyed undermining the hell out of me. One day, I was depressed and at a breaking point, and Mac had taken me for a long walk along the beach. After confessing what bothered me, he gave me a stern pep talk about standing up for myself, no matter how scared or outnumbered I felt. He said many men weren’t (frustratingly) even aware they were being sexist and were just mimicking the behavior of those in charge.
But the manager, he said, knew exactly what he was doing. He was a bully, and the only way to beat him was to show him I couldn’t be bullied. Mac said, “They’ll try to label you as the angry woman when you stand up for yourself. He’ll try to make it seem as if you’re blowing things out of proportion, but don’t let him. Take charge, because if anything under your purview goes wrong, you’re responsible, no matter if he made the decisions. And he’ll let you swing for his mistakes.”
So I took Mac’s advice to heart, returned to the office, and made it clear no plans would be made unless I’d signed off on them. The project manager pushed back, but I warned him I wouldn’t stand for it, that my arse was on the line, and if he didn’t stop undermining my decisions, I would take the issue all the way to the top—and I’d be loud about it.
He didn’t listen.
So I took it to the top.
As a company that prided themselves on diversity, they reprimanded the project manager. He was furious. But we finished the project with me in charge of my own decisions. We never worked together again.
I’d been lucky over the years to gather a solid team. Few new people came and went, and those who did were amazing. It was a great industry to work in. And I didn’t want anyone upsetting the status quo.
“Duncan.” I faced him. “Let me make this clear so there’s no confusion: I am the project engineer. You are an assistant. I am your boss as much as Marcello is. If you have engineering questions regarding the project, I’ll have the answer, since I implemented the plans. So, if you have a question, ask me. If I give you a task, you do it. Simple as that. We clear?”
The little shit had the audacity to sneer, but he nodded slowly.
“I have influence over who stays on this team, so be careful,” I warned gently, and his eyes widened ever so slightly, as if he hadn’t expected me to call him on his bullshit.
It was midafternoon. We’d taken a break for lunch after Jim and his timber harvester had made swift progress. The tricky part of the day arrived right on schedule. We’d reached the river banks, thankfully far away from the tourist attraction that was the Wee Hoose (a tiny house on a tiny island in the middle of Loch Shin), which made felling more dangerous. Anytime we had a sticky spot on our site or were near houses or power lines, we brought in highly skilled fellers who used chainsaws. My feller was Kelly Wright. I’d made it my mission to make sure women who wanted to work in this industry were given that chance.
Marcello was nowhere in sight as I finished the last of my sandwich while reading an email on my phone regarding my Caelmore project.
“Hey, boss.”
I looked up to find Kelly standing in front of me. She wore a T-shirt, hiking trousers, boots, and a safety helmet. “Hey, you, how are you?”
“Good.” She grinned. “Danny proposed on Saturday.”
“Congratulations.” I hugged her.
She laughed. “Thanks, thanks. Aye, it was a surprise, but obviously, a good one.”
I studied her face. “You’re practically glowing.”
“Aye, that’s called sweat.” She nodded to the supply shed. “Got my gear ready?”
“Always.”
She jerked a chin over her shoulder. “Will we go over which trees first?”
“Yeah, yeah, just let me finish replying to this email, and I’ll be right over.”
I was typing on my phone, head down a moment later, when I heard a man shout, “Hey, hey!” I glanced up from where I stood near the loading area to see Duncan intercepting Kelly. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked loudly, belligerently. “This is a live site.”
Kelly crossed her arms over her chest, and I couldn’t hear her response as I marched toward the pair. She looked over at my approach, anger glittering in her dark eyes. “Who is this guy?”
“Who am I? Who are you, more like it?” Duncan huffed.