Celeste asked what had changed. "Nothing changed," Victor said. Desmond found what should have been in the report from the beginning. He explained the outdated drawing, the issue log, and the 18 minutes Desmond had stayed behind to make sure responsibility was assigned correctly. Celeste glanced at the wall clock.
I thought he had somewhere to be. He did. His daughter had a robotics competition. Celeste looked through the open doorway. Desmond was kneeling beside the panel with his sleeves pushed up and a meter in one hand.
He was completely focused on the work. Did he make it barely? Celeste looked down at the report again. Desmond had needed the overtime. She had seen enough in his face to know that even if he never said it aloud.
He had refused it to keep a promise to his daughter, yet when leaving would have helped him keep that promise. He had spent 18 minutes protecting an apprentice who could give him nothing in return. More important, Desmond had not told anyone. Later that morning, a contractor suggested a cheaper route for an access point above the ceiling. The alternative would pass inspection and save several hours, but future maintenance would become much harder.
Desmond studied the proposal. It'll pass. The contractor smiled. Good, Desmond added. I wouldn't install it.
The smile disappeared. Why? Because somebody has to service that connection later. If you close it this way, they'll have to tear out half the ceiling to reach it. The contractor shrugged.
That won't be our problem. Desmond looked at him. It'll still be somebody's. Celeste had been standing nearby with a tablet in her hand. She looked at the drawing, then at Desmond.
What would you do? He showed her a slightly more expensive route with cleaner access. Celeste listened through the entire explanation before telling the contractor to do it Desmond's way. Desmond gave one small nod and returned to work. He did not look pleased with himself.
He did not glance around to see who had noticed. That stayed with Celeste more than the argument itself. Until then, she had been curious because Desmond Booker seemed to want nothing from her. Now she was beginning to understand that his indifference to her money was only the surface of something larger. He judged work by whether it was right when no one was watching, and he seemed to judge people the same way.
For the first time in a long while, Celeste found herself wanting a man's judgment before she wanted his attention. Over the next 3 weeks, Desmond remained assigned to Easton while the project moved toward opening. Nothing changed between him and Celeste in any dramatic way. She still arrived with a tablet in one hand and a schedule in the other. He still answered questions directly, finished what he was there to do, and left when the work was done.