Chapter Text
Shane did his best to kick his steel-capped boots against the doorframe and wipe them on the mat before he entered the office donga. It was a losing battle against the red dirt of the Western Australia outback, every floor in every building covered with it, but it still felt polite to try.
He nodded at the admin assistant sitting behind the desk in front of him before he turned the well-trodden path to the meeting room that took up half of the right side of the demountable building. A big project like the MLH gold mine always had a lot of meetings, especially for a principal geotechnical engineer, which Shane had been for the last five months. But with the ambitious expansion project they were working on, he felt like he spent half of his time in meetings. At least the admin buildings had good air conditioning.
As usual, he was promptly five minutes early to the project ‘work in progress’ meeting, but he wasn’t the first in the room. Scott Hunter, the principal mining engineer and functionally the lead of the entire mine, was sat at the table with old-school print-outs spread in front of him.
“Morning Shane,” he said with a smile. He had almost a decade on Shane, was very handsome and well-liked, always with a smile for everyone, despite the intense pressure he was under.
“Morning,” he replied, setting himself up with his laptop and opening his spreadsheet with his latest calculations and a blank word document to take notes on any action items for himself.
More people filtered into the room until it was a sea of navy and bright yellow and orange high visibility shirts. The other principal engineers chatted amongst themselves, but Shane remained quiet. He was the youngest person in the room, and it was still a struggle for him to feel like an equal to the wealth of experience around him.
“Sorry, sorry!”
The door opened once more and Kip, the project manager, hurried into the room in a fluster.
“Sorry, I was on the phone with Crowell and we went over, I’m sorry to keep everyone waiting,” he apologised as he sat down and quickly opened his laptop.
“It’s two minutes Kip, don’t worry about it. Besides, it makes us feel better about how far behind we are on every deliverable if you’re a little late too,” Scott said kindly.
Kip smiled gratefully as he settled, and with a quick flurry of keys, he straightened and looked around.
“Ok, let’s start. I’d like to begin by acknowledging the traditional owners of the lands on which we meet today…”
Kip efficiently led them through updates on resolved and recent incidents, risk updates, production status and Shane’s own update on ground conditions for the existing mining activities.
“Ok, now onto the expansion and update on milestones,” Kip said, to a chorus of groans through the room.
The expansion project was… a mess. Maybe that was unfair, they were all very competent at their jobs and capable of expanding. But the company wanted it to happen yesterday, for half of the cost it was going to take.
They were going to be over budget, were already behind on every milestone and the constant demanding emails from Crowell about ‘all hands on deck’ and ‘get it done’ were unhelpful and the current bane of their days.
“I know guys, but let’s run through it. Shane, how are geotechnical calcs tracking?”
“I’ve got the ground readings and an initial plot for first-in-ground drilling and assumptions, but until we have a principal blast engineer, they can’t be signed off,” Shane said. They all already knew this, but still the role of principal blast engineer remained empty. He’d consulted with the two other blast engineers on the project, but they just didn’t have the authority or experience to further the work.
“Well, we finally have good news on that!” Kip said, dimples appearing as he grinned.
He was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Rose Landry, senior HR coordinator, poked her head in. Her hair was as red as the dirt outside and she glanced around the room with a smile, brightening slightly as she locked eye contact with Shane.
“Sorry to interrupt, everyone! Kip, I have –” Rose indicated behind her.
“Great timing, we were just talking about him,” Kip beamed. “Let’s welcome our new principal blast engineer…”
Kip’s words were muffled by the blood rushing in Shane’s ears as Rose stepped aside and a tall, well-built man with dirty-blond curls stepped into the room.
No. No no no –
Ilya Rozanov.
It was definitely him.
Same mole on his cheek, same distinctive cupid’s bow lips, same devastating grin and disgusting levels of handsomeness.
“… better acquainted over the coming days, but as a quick whip-through, we have: Kip Grady, our project manager extraordinaire,” Rose started, pointing out everyone sitting at the table. “This is Scott Hunter, our principal mining engineer; Eric Bennett, our principal mechanical engineer; Elena Rygg is our principal electrical and power engineer; Harris Drover is principal control systems engineer; Ryan Price, our principal environmental engineer; Hayden Pike, our OH&S controller, and –”
“Shane Hollander.”
The sound of his name rolled off Rozanov’s tongue with his thick, Russian accent.
Curious eyes all turned on Shane and he knew his cheeks were probably flushing at the attention.
“Ah, we worked together a couple of years ago,” Shane stuttered out, wanting to glare at the smirk that tugged at Rozanov’s lips.
“Fantastic! It’s always easier to settle into a new workplace when there’s a familiar, friendly face,” Rose said peppily.
After a beat, Shane realised they were all waiting on a cue from him and he summoned a tight smile.
“… great. Um, Ilya has all his orientation stuff today, so I’ll set up a meeting between blast and geotech tomorrow morning first thing, sound good?” Kip asked.
Shane nodded and tried to smile more sincerely, but it probably came off as a grimace.
Fuck.
***
Shane was more than ready for the day to be over as he pulled the work ute up to the parking lot by the accommodation office a bit after 6pm.
“Thanks mate,” the two men who’d hitched a ride called out to him as they hopped out of the cab. Though there was a regular bus route between the housing camp, the admin offices and the mine site, there were always people needing to run back and forth and not enough utes to go around.
He stopped at the public bathroom block to wash his hands and face of dust before he headed to the cafeteria for dinner.
It might be early for dinner by regular standards, but the site had 400 hungry people who had just worked a 12 hour shift; the cafeteria was a mad house.
Shane got in line and collected his protein, a starch, some vegetables and filled the rest of his plate at the salad bar. He grabbed an apple juice before he headed for the long, picnic style tables and was waved down by Hayden. There was no need, they ate around the same time at the same table every day, but it still made Shane feel nice to be wanted.
“So, what’s up with you and Rozanov?”
Shane should have expected the question. Every site he’d ever worked at was always gossip-hungry. Long stretches of time in close quarters without much to do but work, multiplied by the lack of new people, especially women (much to the chagrin of the 90% male population), all resulted in people starved for entertainment.
“Nothing. Like I said, we worked together once before,” Shane said, focusing on his food.
“That wasn’t nothing. When he came in, you looked like someone pissed in your cornflakes,” Hayden joked.
Shane shrugged, still not meeting his eyes.
“He was just a bit of an asshole, when I knew him. I’m sure he’ll be fine here. He’s good at his job,” he added as an afterthought.
Rozanov was great at his job, Shane wasn’t surprised he’d been promoted to principal. And he was definitely an asshole too. But there was a lot in between that Shane had no interest in sharing with anyone, not even his friend.
Hayden made a thoughtful noise. “Ok. Where did you come across him, PNG?”
“No, um, Canada.”
“Pissed you off on your home turf, huh?”
Shane scoffed and shoved a large forkful of food in his mouth.
He was saved from having to reply when JJ, another geotech engineer who worked under Shane, sat his food down across from him. JJ had been on site for most of the day, and Shane had meant to ask him about instrument maintenance –
“Heard you have beef with the new blast engineer,” JJ said with an intrigued look.
Shane rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“He was an asshole in Canada,” Hayden filled in for him.
As though summoned by his colleague’s interest, Shane looked up and immediately caught the gaze of Rozanov himself.
He was already looking at Shane with that infuriating, amused glint in his eye, like he was in on a joke that Shane wasn’t.
Rozanov broke their stare first as he dropped his tray to a table and sat down with Rose and Kip. They always had dinner with people brand new to the site on their first night, to save them from the awkwardness of having to find a table in a hall full of strangers, like it was high school.
Usually newbies started in batches, four or five guys onboarded at a time. Not Rozanov. He was the solo star, all the attention on him – as usual.
Shane tore his glare away.
“Can we talk about something else, please? Hay, how’s Jackie?”
That got Hayden talking – they’d be lucky to get a word in the next hour, in between his besotted ramblings about his wife and kids. Perfect.
But Shane didn’t start to relax until he was on the way to his donga, intent on a shower and maybe a chapter or two of a book before an early night.
One of the perks of his seniority was that he got an edge donga – one of the few containers that faced the landscape and Lake Carey in the near distance, instead of being pointed right at the next line of dongas four metres away. When the mosquitoes weren’t too bad, he liked to sit outside and watch the sunset. As a bonus, the donga next to him, technically built in the same container as his own, had been empty for a couple of weeks, so it had been extra quiet, a real luxury in a crowded work camp.
But as he approached his door, he noticed the window on his neighbour’s donga was open, revealing the fly screen inside. It was airing out for a new occupant.
Shane’s stomach dropped.
No. No way –
“Hollander.”
There was no mistaking that voice.
Shane turned slowly, facing Rozanov as he skirted – too close – to Shane before stopping in front of his own door with a grin and a set of keys dangling from his hand.
“I know you enjoy alone time,” he said, waving his other hand carelessly around to indicate the relative isolation he was ruining.
Shane narrowed his eyes at him.
“Sorry,” Rozanov added, unrepentantly.
“S’fine,” Shane said stiffly. “Not like you picked here on purpose.”
Rozanov’s grin widened but he didn’t answer. He inserted the key, going in smoothly first time, and unlocked his door. Before he disappeared inside, he winked at Shane.
Shane turned away sharply.
He knew all about Rozanov’s charms. But now he was older, wiser and a principal engineer. He’d be keeping his professional distance.