The Rig 1: Rough Seas Read Online Free PDF Page A

to the menu.
    “I'm glad you could lend your expertise.” He closed the menu. “Are you ready to order?”
    Sheila smiled. “Yes. By the way, thanks for this.”
    “No problem.” Wes smiled back. “Actually, it's my pleasure. Not often I get to take a beautiful woman out to dinner.”
    Sheila could not help but blush.
    “Thanks, I guess.”
    When the waiter came over Wes ordered the special of the day and Sheila chose the same. They sat in silence for a while.
    “So, what were you doing when the boss called you?” Wes asked.
    “Actually, I was doing nothing when the Senator called.”
    Sheila took up her napkin and placed it in her lap.
    “My interns are entering all the data we gathered for the research we were doing in the Gulf of Mexico. Nothing I can do until the end.”
    Wes was about to ask her about the project when the waiter interrupted again, asking whether Wes would like to choose the wine. He nodded and began a detailed description of what he wanted in a wine. The waiter made a suggestion and Wes nodded his consent.
    “Seems you know something about wine?” Sheila was surprised.
    “Grew up on the Sonoma coast.” He looked around to watch the waiter. “No way you won't learn about wine when you live there.”
    “I'm impressed.”
    “You weren’t called by the boss?” Wes asked, having picked up on what she said earlier.
    “No. I got the call from Senator Jacobs,” Sheila answered, wondering whether Wes did not know that.
    “I asked the boss to see whether you were available, didn't know he would involve someone in Congress.” Wes let a small pause fall. “How do you know the senator?”
    Sheila gave him a wry smile.
    “He passed a bill which got me funding for a few projects which might prove climate change. And gave me some funding out of his own pocket.”
    “No strings attached.”
    “Pfft,” Sheila made a derisive sound. “Many strings attached. But you only find out about those after the fact. Keeps threatening to cut funding if I don't do what he wants.”
    “But your research is not compromised?”
    “I refuse to compromise my research,” she sighed. “But any research is open to cherry picking and interpreting in random ways. Like that tornado thing.”
    Wes leaned forward. It was the tornado research she had done that had first brought her name to his attention.
    “What was with that?”
    “The interpretation of it in Congress was complete bullcrap. There simply is no increase in tornadoes.”
    Wes was not surprised. He had read the research and had drawn a different conclusion from the media.
    “Did they make such a big hash of it?”
    Sheila shook her head.
    “I went to a hearing to talk about it and they just said the exact opposite of what I was telling them and took that for fact, pretending I had said it.” She shook her head again, her lips pursed. “Bunch of douche bags.”
    Wes grinned. He had not seen the hearings but determined to make a mental note to look them up on the C-Span database when he got the chance. He could imagine the way it would go though, as it seemed to go like that every time.
    Wes impressed Sheila even more when he judged the wine on smell alone, instead of tasting it.
    Their first course arrived soon after, which was a spinach risotto. She filled him in on her research and then asked about his work. Their Wellington arrived and it was perfect with the red wine Wes had chosen.
    “It must cost a fortune to get this stuff here,” Sheila remarked. “They must make huge amounts of money to be able to keep this up.”
    Wes bit his lip. Sheila frowned at him, wondering what he was trying not to say.
    “This place is losing money by the bucket loads; floating on subsidies right now,” Wes said.
    Sheila gave him a look of surprise.
    “You're joking? I thought this was supposed to be ‘The City’ of the future?”
    Wes suppressed a snort of laughter.
    “It was. And it's failed. They can't get the green energy thing right, so it's