Page 1 of Under His Control

1

Jacob

Nothing important is waiting for me at home, yet I can’t stop looking at clocks when the work day is almost over.

I glance away from the water pressure readings on the SCADA monitor to check my watch again.

Twenty minutes left.

The control room’s door swings open. Lewis, one of the pump station maintenance guys, strides inside.

He goes straight for the heater and hovers his palms over it. His bulky frame and orange hi-vis vest stand out in this room with its white walls and beige filing cabinets.

“Nearly minus twenty out there,” he says. “My balls went back up inside me.”

I let out a huff and lean back in the creaky swivel chair.

“Are you sure that’s where they went? Maybe you never had any this whole time.”

Lewis chuckles. “I have the biggest balls you ever seen, bud.”

“I’ll die happy if I never do.”

In a past life that seems so foreign now, I was the CEO of my mother’s cosmetics company. My employees only ever spoke to me in breathless deference. Inappropriate subjects were out of question.

At this water treatment facility, I’m just another worker providing clean drinking water to the county. I’m not wearing a suit that costs more than someone’s monthly salary to stress my importance. I’m in the same uniform as everyone: a long-sleeved navy blue polo shirt with the company logo stamped over the left breast, jeans, and steel-toed boots.

I prefer it. I prefer being just one of the guys than the one who stands out. When everyone was looking up to me, they witnessed my failures too.

Lewis turns to warm his back then strokes his thick, greying beard. He’s completely bald under his black beanie and has a strict regimen for his facial hair. He swears every guy should be slathering their face with argan oil.

“You want in on the pool this week?”

“My answer is the same as last week. Always will be every week.”

“But it’s eighty mil this time.”

“That doesn’t change my mind.”

“Damn. I wish you would ‘cause we’re down one. Today’s the buy-in deadline and Fiona didn’t come in.”

That’s why I haven’t seen her all day.

I thought she was avoiding me like I’ve been avoiding her.

Everyone knows dating a co-worker is risky business. I’m more risk averse than most with romantic relationships. Since Fiona works in dispatch, I’ve been turning down her invites to hang out this past year.

Well, she wore me down. I met her at a bar a few nights ago and it was the first time in a long time I went on something resembling a date.

Huge mistake.

The first red flag: she pressured me to drink even though I told her I was sober.

“One glass won’t kill you,” she said while rolling her eyes.

The next red flag showed up minutes later. She sat on my side of the table, rubbed my crotch, and wetly whispered in my ear that we should fuck in the restaurant’s bathroom.

I’ve been celibate for almost a decade. The last woman I slept with turned sex into a noose around my neck. It’s hard to trust another won’t hang me again.