by Claire Adams
“I’m sorry about that,” Luke said. I glared at him. “What?”
“You never did answer my question, though,” Dean said, turning back to face me.
I could feel my pulse in my fingers as I lifted the glass of champagne to my mouth. “Which question was that?”
Dean chuckled. “How is the champagne? You said you didn’t get a chance to enjoy it the first time you were presented with it. I wonder if it’s everything you thought it would be.”
“Well, let’s see,” I said, trying to act as if I weren’t completely out of my depth. I set the top edge of the glass against my lower lip and poured a sip’s worth of champagne into my mouth. The taste was stronger than I’d expected and a lot drier. Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I said, “Wow. So that’s what champagne tastes like, huh?”
“You’ve never had it before?” Dean asked, smiling with one side of his mouth. “I find that somewhat surprising. You seem like a rather cultured young woman.”
That phrase sounded like a compliment, but the addition of the word “young” to the operative word “woman” was clear enough. He wanted to keep me at a distance, recasting me as the sister of his deputy CFO, instead of the woman he picked up who was now interning at the company. I was convinced that was the best thing for him to do, but that didn’t take any of the sting out of the apparent rejection.
“Thanks,” I said, finally. “I’ve never been a big fan of wine.”
“Let me guess,” Dean said, “you were one of those people who thought, growing up, that wine tasted like fruit punch or something like that, only with alcohol in it?”
“Something like that.”
“Give it some time and keep drinking the finer wines and champagnes, and I bet you’ll come around before you know it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
While we were talking, it made sense for us to look at each other. Showing a person attention during a conversation is Etiquette 101. The problem was, now that the words had stopped, he wasn’t looking away. I wasn’t looking away, either, though every thought in my head was telling me to simply shift my gaze over to my brother. I just couldn’t.
Dean’s bright, green eyes had a hold on me, and try as I might, I could not escape it. This wasn’t a staring contest; I might have had a chance if it were, but this was something else.
He was asserting himself, his authority. He was showing me that he was the one in control, and that if anything were to happen, it would happen because he wanted it to. I didn’t even know what that meant when I first thought it, but the impression didn’t go away when he finally turned his attention back to my brother.
“Have the two of you already ordered?” he asked. “I feel like we’ve been sitting here a long time without anyone coming by.”
Luke said something, and then I think I said something, myself, after that, but it was all a jumbled mess in my memory. I couldn’t get those eyes out of my brain.
In a way, he was staking his claim, asserting his authority over me. We’d both agreed only a few minutes before that nothing should happen between us again, but the way he just dominated my thoughts without even saying a word made me feel something I’d never felt.
In that moment, I wanted to give myself over to Dean, not just in body, but entirely. In that look was dominance, authority, but there was also a hint of tenderness in the way he looked at me. I had never been so wet in my life.
Chapter Three
The New Deal
When Dean joined Luke and me for dinner, I had forgotten the reason Luke had invited him in the first place. Two weeks after that night, though, my entire life became working on what they had discussed.
Farnsworth & Temple was preparing a new product for release, a new take on accounting software that was said to be capable of replacing CPAs almost entirely. To be fair, that was pretty much the tagline for every bit of financial software I’d ever heard of, so I wasn’t too overwhelmed with the implications of it. I didn’t know this thing already had a lot of people pissed off, even though it wasn’t anywhere near completion.
I didn’t know how it worked. Luke had even gone over the specifics with me, but that only muddied the waters. What I did know, however, was that any life I had before the project started went out the window the second Luke had me assigned to it. As an intern, my duties hadn’t changed much, only there was a lot more to do and it seemed like everyone above the level of intern, Luke included, was dumping their excess onto me and the other interns on the project.
I was on my way to Luke’s office, leaning back to keep my balance as I carried what felt like half my bodyweight in papers, books, and folders. When I got to the office, Marika wasn’t at her desk. I tried to hit the intercom button on her phone, but nearly dropped the entire stack of organized documents in the process. With no other recourse, I walked up to Luke’s office door, put my back to it, and knocked by bumping the back of my head against the door.
“Come in!”
“I can’t!” I called back.
After a few seconds, the door opened. I pushed Luke out of my way, feeling very much like my arms were about to fall off, and I carefully placed the stack of documents onto the desk.
“Is that all of it for this morning?”
I scoffed. “That is the first load of it. Do you want me to wait on bringing the others?”
“No,” he sighed. “We do that, it’s just going to start piling up and we’ll never get ahead. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. My back hurts a little, but I think I’m starting to regain feeling in my fingertips.”
“No, I mean on the project. Are you volunteering for stuff, going out of your way to show why you’re the best intern of the group?”
“Was I supposed to be doing that? I’ve just been trying to get my work done; I didn’t know I was supposed to be launching a political campaign, too.”
“It’s all politics. I could have you promoted because of my position, but if I do that, nobody’s ever going to respect you or any position you may hold in the future. You need to prove yourself, not just to me, but to everyone around, so when you do get hired on permanently and actually start drawing a salary, everyone knows you earned it.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I really don’t think I can do much more than I’m already doing.”
Luke took the top half of the stack and moved it over to create two piles. The stacks still leaning, he divided it up again. “Have you gone through any of this?”
“I went through some of it; the other interns went through what I didn’t. It should all be proofed and ready to go, wherever it’s all going.”
“Do you know what we’re trying to accomplish?”
“I heard the spiel when the project started, but as far as a technical understanding, I have no idea.”
“What we’re doing is killing jobs. If this technology works the way R&D think it will, we could gut an entire industry.”
“Inspiring. It’s always nice to see companies working hard for the little guy.”
“Believe it or not, that’s what we’re trying to do. Imagine being able to do your own budget, your own taxes, monitor all of your investments with the click of a button.”
“Can’t you already do that?”
“To a certain degree, yes, you can. Up until now, though, software has never been able to equal, much less outperform, a flesh-and-blood CPA. What the team is doing here, with project Yalta—”
“I still think that’s a stupid name,” I interrupted.
He sighed. “What we’re doing with project Yalta is providing the consumer with all of the tools a CPA has at his or her disposal, and through use of AI logarithms, useful insight into every bit of information placed into the program.”
“Yeah, but the program doesn’t exist yet.”
“That couldn’t possibly matter less. The only barrier to getting anything done is some CEO deciding to make it happen. We could have almost zero carbon emission
s worldwide in ten years if the head of a major energy company decided to actually take on the research.
“The problem with changing anything is there’s always a lot of people who don’t want to see the change happen. People have dedicated their lives to something we plan to destroy: the concept that you need to hire someone to handle your assets. That’s going to be an incredible benefit to our consumers, but it’s going to be hell from CPA unions and likely the accounting world in general.”
“Why are you telling me any of this?”
“You need to start thinking like you’re not just an intern. You need to start thinking like you’ve got skin in this game because the truth is you do. Yeah, you’re not going to design the software or be involved with any of the mathematics, programming, or direct development of the software, but the more you understand about what we’re doing, why we’re doing it, and the potential fallout from doing it, the more prepared you’re going to be to have your own office up here one day.”
“I am nowhere near prepared for something like that.”
“That’s the point. You’re not prepared for it now, but you will be.”
“I appreciate the pep talk, but I should really get back and grab the next stack for you.”
“I need you to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Have an opinion.” The way he said it, I felt like I was being put on the spot, like I’d doing something wrong.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you, and from what everyone’s been saying, you’re always quick to offer to help, and you’ve got a solid work ethic.”
I furrowed my brow. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“No, that’s fine if you want to be thought of as the best intern. In fact, if you want to stay an intern all your life, just keep doing what you’re doing.”
“You’re telling me I need to act like something else if I want to move up?”
“People think of interns as grunts. They do the mindless work so the rest of us don’t have to deal with it. Interns are there because they get things done and they do it without rocking the boat. Interns are kind of like the inner workings of a watch, they keep things going, but unless something’s out of place, you hardly even think about them.”
“How flattering.”
“What you need to do is present yourself as someone who doesn’t belong as an intern, not because you’re bad at your job, but because you’re too good for it.
“The way to do that is to start having an opinion. If you see something that could be done better, say something about it. If you can see a potential issue arising, don’t just try to weather it, actively seek to solve the issue and let people see you doing it. The only thing worse than not putting forth the extra effort is putting in the extra effort and having nobody notice.
“Is this starting to make a little more sense? Right now, you’re working hard. What you need to do, if you’re going to stand out, is to start working smart. Now, I need a file that’s supposed to be in with all this stuff, but I’m not finding it. I assume that’s because it’s in another stack.”
“I’d have to know what file you were looking for, but yeah, probably,” I answered, starting to get the feeling this whole exercise was nothing more than my brother showing off.
“Okay, so how do we solve this issue efficiently?”
“I go get the other stacks of documents so you have the file you need?”
“What if it’s not in the next stack that you carry? I legitimately need that file right now.”
“I can just go and get you that file.”
“You don’t know what I’m looking for, and even were I to tell you, it would probably take you an hour at least to go through the stacks to find what I’m looking for.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Figure it out,” he says, “but I want that document on my desk in five minutes or you’re fired.”
“Five minutes? Weren’t you the one that just said—”
“Ooh,” he said, looking down at his watch, “time’s already going. I’d be quick about it.”
“Even with a cart, it’s going to take me longer than that to get down there, collect everything, and get it back up here.”
“It’s time to start thinking outside the box. What is faster than your feet?”
“You’re seriously giving me riddles right now? I mean, are you still timing this?”
“Yeah, you’re down to about four minutes, and I’m not joking. If you can’t figure it out, I will fire you.”
My mind was a dam giving way to a flood of different ideas, though none of them were the slightest bit helpful. He was trying to get me to think as if I were already above the station of intern, but that didn’t change physics. The papers were three floors down, and even if I’d had ten minutes, it wouldn’t have been enough time to do it all myself. That’s when it clicked.
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
“There you go,” Luke said. “Now, who are you going to call?”
“Shut up, I’m busy,” I snapped. My immediate boss, Mr. Johnstone answered, and I spoke into the phone, saying, “There’s been a change in plans, and I need all of the documentation going to the deputy CFO to his office in three minutes or it’s going to be hell to pay for all of us. Can you get all the interns in the area to bring all that up as quickly as humanly possible?”
Luke was nodding behind his desk, a mischievous smile crossing his face.
On the other end of the line, Mr. Johnstone was saying, “Who is this?”
“If those documents aren’t up here in this office in two minutes, I will not be held responsible for the fallout.” With that, I ended the call. I looked back at my brother. “Okay, now you might not fire me, but as soon as Mr. Johnstone realizes that was me, he’s going to do it for you.”
“He won’t. In the future, I’d go straight to one of the interns and make them your go-to person. The way you did it, you were still hiding behind Johnstone’s authority. You need to start taking some of that authority for yourself.”
“I’m pretty sure they told me not to do that when I was being trained.”
“Yeah, that’s because most interns are interns because they don’t want any more responsibility than that. You don’t want to be an intern. You want an office.”
“Do I?” I asked.
“I think you do.”
“How are we on time?”
“It’ll get here. Johnstone’s scared of me ever since I became deputy.”
Sure enough, about a minute later, Marika, who’d apparently returned to her desk, buzzed, saying, “Yeah, I’ve got like six interns out here with a couple trolleys’ worth of papers for you.”
Luke held up his watch to me so I could see the still-running stopwatch he’d put on the exercise. It read four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
“Tell them never mind,” he said. “I found the file I needed in my desk.”
“Yes, sir,” Marika’s voice came back and the intercom went dark.
“Now comes the not-so-fun part,” Luke told me.
“What’s that?”
“Now you need to go out there before they’ve left so they know you’re the one who made the phone call and had them all sent up here. I’d imagine Johnstone probably threatened them, so they’re liable to be pretty upset at you.”
“None of this was my idea.”
“That’s one of the things you’re going to have to start getting used to if you’re going to go anywhere with this company or any other. It’s just a fact of life that people above you are going to make you their scapegoat, and not only do you have to go along with it, you have to embrace it. Learn to love the hate of your underlings.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if they didn’t hate me?”
“If you have any power over them, they’re going to hate you eventually, no matter what you do. By the way, if they’re back on the elevator before y
ou’ve caught up to them, you’re fired. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”
As I hurried out of the office, my only parting words to my brother were, “I hate you.”
His last words to me were, “Don’t apologize; it’ll undermine your credibility!”
I found the other interns waiting for the elevator and grumbling among themselves how stupid and evil the higher-ups at the company were. None of them knew they were part of my crash course in corporate leadership, assuming that’s what Luke was trying to accomplish. I was supposed to somehow out myself as being the reason they’d been told to drop everything, load up a few hundred pounds’ worth of documents for something that doesn’t yet exist, and then get back to work.
“Marcy,” Kyle, one of the interns, said as I approached, “isn’t there anything you can do about your brother?”
“I made the call.” I didn’t know what else to say but that.
“What do you mean?” Sandra, the blonde bombshell lawsuit of an intern, asked.
“The deputy CFO for the company we work for needed a file, and it was a time-sensitive matter. I’m the one that called Johnstone and had you guys bring everything up here.”
I’d never seen half a dozen faces tighten up and go dark red so quickly. Right when I could feel the onslaught of Marcy-hate coming on, though, six pairs of eyes in front of me went wide and every mouth closed. I turned around to find Dean approaching.
The rest of my comrades averted their gaze as he came to wait for the elevator. When the doors opened, they all stepped out of the way to let the big boss get on first. In that moment, I could hear my brother’s voice in my head, telling me to step up and stand out, so I made sure I was the next one on the elevator, and I planted myself directly next to Dean.
It felt so awkward, so incredibly unnatural claiming my position like that, but it worked. As my co-interns got on, they averted their gaze from me as they had with the CEO. While I knew this wasn’t going to be the end of my new power play, it felt good seeing the early results.
The doors opened on the fourteenth floor, and I waited for all of my future underlings to exit before I started, but Dean held me back with the touch of his hand on my shoulder. I stopped and let the doors close before doing anything else.