It was already crowded with patrons and noise, the smell of food and drink mingling with the scent of bodies after a long workday. Danny scanned the crowd until he saw her at a round table. He recognized Daphne by her long blonde hair and the diamond-shaped tattoo beside her right eye. The apprentices always made up stories as to why she had it; no one in the Union knew the real reason.
She was dressed in a dark jacket that buttoned diagonally, and she’d tied a blue kerchief around her neck. She attracted a few stares from men and women alike. Danny knew from his own mother’s muttering that some women thought wearing men’s clothes was beneath them.
Danny squeezed through the crowd, murmuring apologies and getting beer spilled on him until he reached her side. She ran frosty blue eyes over him like a cat evaluating a mongrel’s size and potential for trouble. Danny tried to smile, and she scoffed.
“No thanks. I’m not that desperate.”
“What? No, I’m here to talk about Enfield.”
“Enfield?” She looked him over again. “Brandon Summers was supposed to meet me here. Not you.”
“Well, it’s me you’re going to get.” Danny sat beside her, but not too close. “Seeing as I’m the current Enfield mechanic.”
This was a bold thing to say, since technically he wasn’t the only mechanic who could be called to Enfield. It was rare for someone to be assigned to a clock tower full time.
Daphne raised an eyebrow. “You’re the current mechanic.” He couldn’t tell if it was a question.
He thought about his speech, the one he’d planned so precisely in his head. He opened his mouth and took in a breath to begin, but all that came out was, “You can’t go to Enfield.”
Her high, smooth forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Of course I can.”
“You shouldn’t, though, is what I’m saying.”
“What are you talking about?” Daphne hadn’t finished her drink, but she looked ready to bolt.
“I’ve been working in Enfield lately, and I know that clock tower better than anyone. It was a mistake to assign you there.”
“A mistake?” Her voice turned low and her long, pale fingers curled around the tabletop’s edge.
“What I mean is—you’re a wonderful mechanic. You might even be better than me. I mean, wait … you are better than me—”
“How would you know? You’ve never seen me work. And for that matter, yes, I’m a better and more qualified mechanic than you are. Why are you wasting my time?”
His plan was going to shambles. Danny imagined Colton’s disappointed face, the Enfield tower exploding. He gathered himself for another attempt. “But that’s it exactly! You’re much too qualified to be stuck with a lousy, small clock like the one in Enfield. You deserve better projects, better towers, which is why I’m offering to take this assignment. Trust me, you don’t want to work in a place like Enfield.”
Her eyes never left his face. He schooled his expression into what he hoped was concern, the face of a young man who would never lie.
Finally, she said, “You never told me what you were doing in Tom’s office.”
Danny stomped down the urge to scowl. “I think we’re about even, don’t you?” When she looked confused, he clarified, “You told the Lead.”
“I didn’t tell the Lead anything.”
Now it was his turn to be confused. If she hadn’t told the Lead about being in Tom’s office, then why had he taken Danny off the Enfield assignment?
She traced the outline of her glass as she stared at him. “If you take the Enfield assignments from me, how am I supposed to get paid? I have to feed myself.”
“Why don’t we switch assignments? Or I could pay you. Here, I’ll even buy your drink.” He tried not to cringe at the thought of more lost money.
“Are you cracked or something? I told you I’m not that desperate.”
“Keep your skirt down, I prefer blokes.”
With her bill settled, he walked her outside. She stopped at a chrome-plated motorbike, and Danny had to look twice. Even the sight of it made his stomach squirm. He preferred his father’s jalopy compared to this vehicle of certain death.
“I know more about you than you think,” she said suddenly. “And what people say about you. They feel sorry for you. Maybe I do, too, a bit.”
Danny didn’t say anything. Daphne unstrapped her helmet and sat astride the hulking machine.
“I understand, a little, what it’s like.” She paused, her breath hanging before her in the cold. “People knowing something about you that’s invisible. The way they look at you, as if they can see it if they stare hard enough.”
He felt his heartbeat in his stomach. He wanted to ask her if anyone ever did see it. If she wanted them to see it.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t agree to do this. It’s too risky, and I can’t afford to lose my job. It’s all I have.”
Danny fumbled to pull a fiver from his pocket he’d been saving for his next auto repair installment. “Look, I can pay—”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but no.” Daphne hesitated, perhaps debating whether to say more, but she just sighed and strapped on her helmet. With a kick and a rev of the engine, she was speeding down the street, taking his last hope with him.