The Intern: A Sweet Lesbian Romance

by Mia Archer

  No. I wasn't going to think like that. I was going to stay positive. I wasn't going to dwell on losing my job, though it would be more accurate to say I'd thrown it away. I definitely wasn't going to concentrate on the lingering pain of losing Erica. We'd only gone on a couple of dates, after all, and that last one ended spectacularly. It's not like I lost much.

  And yet I couldn't help but think I'd lost a hell of a lot. The girl who'd introduced me to a whole new world. Gone.

  Damn it.

  My phone buzzed and pulled me away from the pity party. I pulled it up and smiled to see a message from Amber. Good old reliable Amber.

  “Ready for some good gossip?”

  “Sure, shoot,” I said. It’d been a couple of days since my spectacular exit. I figured things had enough time to percolate nicely since then.

  “We just got done having a lovely group meeting between Christine and everyone on the floor. She stood in front of her office and made everyone stand in that open square around. Basically yelled at us for a half hour asking if anyone knew what you were up to when you left and implying that you deliberately sabotaged her.”

  I snorted. Of course she’d say something like that. Easier to throw the person who just departed under the bus than to deal with her own failings as a manager, after all. It stung just a little that she was pulling that, but only just a little. After all, I was free of the bullshit. It’s not like she could level those accusations or go off the deep end while I was forced to sit there and take it anymore.

  “So did anyone fess up?” I asked.

  It might be possible for her to piece together everything I’d been working on if she really worked at it and put together all the emails I’d sent out to various people in the department. She could even go in and check my records in the system if she was feeling particularly diligent, but diligence and work weren’t exactly Christine’s strong suits. I still marveled that she’d been able to get promoted to her current level of incompetence. The joys of corporate America, I suppose.

  “No one’s talking,” Amber shot back. “Not sure if they really don’t know what you were doing or if they’re just stonewalling, but the way Christine blew her stack when she realized she wasn’t going to get any help was amazing. I’m surprised no one’s reported her for it.”

  I chuckled. The first laugh I’d had since quitting. It was good to know that my abrupt departure was at least causing some trouble for my old nemesis. I could only hope that her situation would spiral more and more out of control with each passing day. And it looked like I was going to get updates on the regular thanks to Amber acting as my mole on the inside.

  Suddenly things were looking up again. Sure I was still in the same dire situation I’d been in just moments ago, but somehow knowing that Christine, the architect of so much misery in my life over the past couple of years, was finally having some of that misery come around to bite her in the ass made my crappy situation sting that much less.

  I suppose you had to take the wins with the losses.

  19: New Sheriff

  Three days. Three damn days that bitch had been allowed to continue running business as usual down there on the seventh floor. Three days of fuming and biding my time. Not going back to my cubicle because I knew I’d explode the moment I saw her.

  Three days of not being able to take the first step of a path that I hoped would lead me back into Nicole’s good graces. Three days without her. Three days thinking of how much I’d screwed up. How much I’d acted every bit the spoiled little rich girl she claimed I was.

  Three days of self-imposed torture. Dad wanted to just fire her and be done with it. I wanted to give her enough time to hang herself by the noose she’d been so helpfully winding for the past two years. I figured a couple of days of torture was the least she deserved, but not what she was going to get.

  Firing was too good for her.

  So I was still fuming with all the raw anger I’d felt three days ago when Christine fired Nicole as I watched the numbers going down on the elevator. I suppose I should be happy. This was a sign dear old dad was finally letting up just a little.

  Yeah, he was letting up. Just a little, but at what cost? I'd had a pretty damn good thing going with Nicole. I'd felt something with her that I hadn’t with other girls. Other girls were just one night stands.

  With her I could see so much more, and now all those hopes were dashed. Maybe I was being a romantic fool. Maybe I was acting a little over the top and blowing a couple of dates and a good rapport on the job way out of proportion. Still, I couldn't help but feel that this final "fuck you" mind game from dear old dad had cost me something pretty special.

  At least he was doing his best to try and make it better. All part of the newer softer dad who knew I was no longer taking his shit. It felt weird.

  And already I was racking my brain. I was desperately trying to figure out how the hell I was going to get her back. And I just didn't know. I'd screwed things up pretty well, and from what I read in Christine's report about what happened that morning Nicole had left in a pretty spectacular fashion. Hell, I’d been part of that spectacular exit in that one brief shining moment when she kissed me and I thought everything was going to be okay.

  Fat chance.

  That report had been interesting, not the least of which because half the stuff had probably been made up on the spot to make her look good. I looked down at the paperwork in my hands. I was going to start the path to making things better. Even if they didn’t ever get better with Nicole I could at least rest assured that I’d made life better for an entire floor of workers by removing a vindictive harpy from a position of power.

  A part of me was terrified about doing this, but then again I suppose I had to start doing this sort of thing eventually. And who better to learn on than with a woman who I already despised? I grinned. I couldn't think of anyone who’d be a better test run. I stepped out onto the seventh floor and made my way directly to the giant glass cube in the center. The thing really was an impressive bit of architecture. It was a pity it was wasted on someone who was such an incompetent manager. That was about to change though. I opened the door and moved to sit in front of her desk. I even kicked my legs up and crossed them.

  From the way her eyes went wide and then narrowed she didn't miss the not-so-subtle hint there. She'd been very clear about how scandalized she was that Nicole had done this very thing when Christine was trying to fire her. Well, let her steam about someone else doing it. It was time she learned there was a new sheriff in town, and I wasn't afraid to do what needed to be done.

  "Come to apologize for the stunt you pulled?"

  I blinked. "Why would I do that? I have nothing to apologize for."

  "Fraternizing with your supervisor? That seems like a pretty big deal to me," she said.

  "That would be a pretty big deal, but maybe a write up at most. Definitely not cause to fire someone. Wouldn't you agree, Christine?"

  Her eyes darted around. She suddenly had the look of a hunted animal. Good. The predator had her scent, and it was time to move in for the kill.

  "In fact, I understand Nicole ended up leaving over something very similar. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you Christine?"

  That hunted look got even more pronounced. Her eyes darted around as though she was looking for help from someone. Of course there was no one here who would help her. I understood from the increasingly frantic reports she was sending to her bosses about why no work was getting done that the floor was practically in a state of mutiny. Not that I could blame them. Not after her reign of terror.

  No one was willing to fall on their sword for this boss. She created such a toxic culture that I'm sure everybody would applaud when she was put in her place.

  “Nicole didn’t get fired. She quit of her own free will. That’s not my problem that she doesn’t know when to be thankful for what she has. I propped her up for too long. I was too soft on her and look how she repaid me!”

 
"She quit? Because in another report you sent up to HR you made it very clear you fired her. So which is it, Christine? One way you falsified corporate documents and that could have serious legal ramifications. The other way you really overstepped your bounds and disobeyed an order from the owner. Which one are you going to choose?"

  "Who do you think you are? You might be Zeidner’s daughter, but right now you’re also just an intern!"

  I decided now was as good a time as any for the dramatic reveal. I fumbled in my pocket for the brand-new keycard they'd created for me a few days back complete with a brand-new picture and my real name on it.

  "See what it says on there? Erica Zeidner. I'm not incognito anymore, and it's time for me to clean house."

  "You're not in charge of me," she said.

  "Not yet. I don't get my cushy new vice president position until I graduate officially, but dad's been impressed enough with the work I've done so far that he’s decided to let me take on more responsibility. Including clearing out an HR issue that's been plaguing the seventh floor for about five years now."

  Christine's eyes went wide, but she had a good enough poker face that she was able to quickly school her face back to somewhat normal. But I'd seen that momentary fear. Oh yeah. She was worried.

  "How could he be impressed by what you're doing? From where I'm sitting it looks like the only thing you've been up to since you got here is going out and getting drunk and having a little bit of fun with your supervisor on the company dime. Not exactly the kind of thing worthy of giving you a VP position."

  There was something about the tone of her voice that caught my attention. Something about the way she talked about a vice president position. Almost reverent. Definitely jealous.

  "Is that what you were hoping for? Back before you got stuck doing middle-management down here and taking out your bile on everybody on your floor?"

  Christine sniffed, and that was all the confirmation I needed. I leaned forward over her desk.

  "What if I told you he was impressed with a little bit of data analysis I did? Going through the system and seeing that the person who was doing most of the supervisory work and reporting on this floor wasn't the person who was getting paid to do the supervisory and reporting work on this floor?"

  "You're biased," she spat. "You would say anything to protect her."

  "You're right," I said.

  I slid my paperwork across the desk to her. The same papers I'd showed dad earlier in the week, but sanitized a bit. "It just so happens that this time around anything I could say to save her job also happens to coincide with the facts. Everything is logged in the system. Including how much time you've been spending playing solitaire. Did you never pay attention to the lectures from IT about how they can track all of that?"

  "I…"

  "You figured the guy in IT you were sleeping with would protect you from this? It's okay. I found out about that when I talked to the head of IT and did some deeper digging."

  "He told you about that?"

  "He told me about his suspicions, but you just confirmed it for me."

  "You sneaky bitch," she said.

  "Better a sneaky bitch than just a plain old bitch."

  "So what do we do now?" Christine asked.

  I shrugged. "Originally my dad wanted me to fire you. But that's messy. It requires documentation. Sure we've got plenty here, but technically I'm supposed to write you up. Discipline you. Give you chances to improve yourself. I don't think that's going to happen, though."

  "So what then?" she asked.

  "It's simple enough. You're going to go back to work on the seventh floor. You get a cubicle of your own, and a bump down in pay to coincide with your new position."

  "And if I refuse? If I decide to sue?"

  I shrugged. "You can. Of course I don't think you're going to. Not after you sign of this document waiving your right to do anything like that."

  "I’ll do nothing of the sort!"

  "Fine, then I fire you and we go after you for wage theft. There’s certainly enough evidence in the system to get a nice fat felony on your record."

  I really had done my homework. I'd been so furious that I went digging for anything I could use against her. I figured it was worth one night of no sleep to see the look of pure terror on her face. I wasn't actually completely sure we'd be able to get the felony charges to stick, but if there was one thing I'd learned from watching cop shows it was that you brought out the big guns right away in the hopes that the criminal would plead to something lesser.

  And so I had to hide my grin as she reached out and signed the documents.

  "Very nice. Now I'd like you to spend the rest of your day clearing out your office and moving your things to your new cubicle. It just so happens one has opened up recently. I'm sure you know where to go."

  "I'm not going to forget this," Christine said.

  "Neither am I. I'd advise you start looking for a new job, regardless. I have a feeling you're not going to like who I have in mind as your new boss."

  Not that I thought the girl I had in mind to be Christine’s new boss would even give us the time of day. Still, a girl could dream.

  And with that I stood and made my way out of the office. Everyone was staring at me. Apparently we'd gotten loud enough in our spirited conversation that they could overhear bits of it.

  "Did you really just fire Christine?" One lady asked. I think it was that Amber girl Nicole always chatted with back when we shared a cubicle.

  "Sure did!" I said with a smile on my face. "Now back to work everyone. You'll want to set a good example for when your new supervisor gets here."

  "But you're just an intern," one guy said.

  "An intern with friends in high places," I said. "It's been fun, but I have more business to attend to."

  And with that I stepped off of the seventh floor. Hopefully it wouldn't be for the last time, though. With a little luck I’d have a very compelling reason to return to the seventh floor on a regular basis. I just had to work one final bit of magic with an assist from dear old dad. Magic for my personal and professional life.

  I desperately hoped it worked.

  20: Interview

  "Are you sure about this place?" I asked.

  "Absolutely sure," Janet replied back.

  I looked at the place where I was supposed to have a job interview. A job interview that I honestly never thought was coming, but here I was. Sitting in front of a pretty swanky country club. Definitely not what I'd expected when Janet gave me the address. I'd been expecting something more along the lines of an office building.

  "Who the hell am I interviewing with?" I asked.

  "They asked that discretion be used at all stages of the interview. I'm afraid I can't give you a heads up."

  "Well that seems damned peculiar," I said.

  "Very much so. Hopefully you'll understand."

  I sighed. At least this time I was the one doing the sighing and not her. "You're not going to tell me anything else?"

  "Nope. Just count your lucky stars that you got this interview."

  I suppose I should consider myself lucky to even have an interview. It had been a week since I quit my job in such a spectacular fashion. I'd been calling Janet’s office on a daily basis. It was getting to the point that I was on a first name basis with her secretary before I even had a chance to give my name, and I'm sure she was tired of hearing from me by now.

  The lack of results despite Janet’s early optimism had me worried. I'd started mentally packing everything into boxes and trying to figure out what I was going to have to donate before I headed home and left the city. Probably for good.

  At least this was a small sliver of hope to hold onto.

  My car looked decidedly out of place pulling up to the country club. I hardly ever drove the thing, and it was definitely more utilitarian than the expensive luxury car monstrosities on display. I only really kept the thing for trips home, and my dad was the one who paid the bill to have
it kept in a garage on a monthly basis. There was certainly no chance in hell I'd be able to afford it in this city on what I made.

  I still didn't think this interview was going to go anywhere. Janet’s warning about gossip traveling fast in an industry had been running through my head. Usually just after I finished moping over not having Erica around anymore and just before I launched into a vigorous session of kicking myself for being stupid enough to quit so spectacularly in the first place. I was starting into that downward spiral again as I walked up to the impressive front gates entrance.

  I forced myself to get it under control. It wouldn’t do to show up to an interview acting batshit insane, after all.

  I gave my name to the nice girl at the reception desk. She was pretty enough. That was another change since quitting. I’d found myself looking at every girl and assessing her prettiness. And not just in the casual way that I used to look at girls and think about how attractive they were. No, now I was looking with interest.

  I suppose I'd always been doing that, it's just that I'd never noticed. It had always been subconscious rather than in my conscious mind.

  I gave my name and she smiled.

  "Right. Our guests are expecting you. If you wait a moment we’ll have someone take you to their private dining room."

  I didn't bother to ask who exactly their guests were. I figured I wasn't going to get that information from the receptionist if I wasn't getting it from Janet. And so I took a seat and waited. Given my current situation I’d wait all day if they asked me to.

  A private dining room sounded pretty swanky. Of course if they were doing the interview in a country club like this in the first place then they probably had money to throw around. I suppose that boded well. If, by some miracle, I did manage to land the job I’d have to be sure and come in with a decently large salary requirement.