“As I was saying,” Jamie continued. “You’re all very fortunate to be here. Mr. Jeffrey handpicks his interns himself, and only the best and the brightest will do.”
I didn’t know Mr. Jeffrey handpicked interns. Samantha’s contact must’ve really come through, because he never would’ve picked me. I was a philosophy major with average grades, not exactly an up and comer in the business world.
“If you perform well,” Jamie said. “Chances are that within a year, you’ll be offered a job with a benefits package, and a great starting salary. Most quit before then, because they find the program too grueling. A lucky few hang on into a second year internship, having not quite gotten to where Mr. Jeffrey would like them to be.”
A shot a smug glance at Charlie. He had his arms folded over his chest, looking at the floor.
“Congratulations to all of you for making it here, and good luck,” Jamie said. She glanced out of the window. “There’s Mr. Jeffrey now. I’ll let him take the floor.”
The door swung open, and I expected to see an older man with completely white hair. But that wasn’t who walked through the door. I took a sharp breath in and clasped at my skirt. It was the man from upstairs, the young, handsome man I’d embarrassed myself in front of. He was Evan Jeffrey.
“Great,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Good morning,” Evan said. “My name is Evan Jeffrey. I’m CEO of JNC Industries, and your boss.” He paced the front of the room, studying the interns who hung on his every word. “I know how you feel right now. You look around at this room full of people, and you feel lost in the sea of faces. How are you ever going to stand out among all of these talented young people?”
Evan looked from face to face. He briefly locked eyes with me, and smiled. A shiver went up my spine.
“Rest assured, I know each and every one of you,” Evan continued. “I’ve studied your applications night after night in my extensive review process. Soon, I’ll be able to put faces to names. Out of thousands of applicants, you are the elite. You all have a chance to shine, and if you do, I’ll know. If you mess up, I’ll know that too. Thank you and have a good day.”
While the interns rose to their feet and clapped, Evan briskly walked out of the room. Jamie began handing out desk assignments, and we stayed in our seats until our name was called. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mr. Jeffrey had said. Thousands of applicants, the elite few. Something wasn’t adding up.
Jamie called my name and handed me a slip of paper with a desk number on it. I walked out of the conference room and looked for my desk. There was no way I was meant to be here. Had my acceptance been a mistake? Had it been meant for someone else?
I located my desk, and sat down behind it. There was a placard with my name, Lucy Carver. I picked it up and held it in my hands. There was my name, letter for letter. This couldn’t be a mistake, could it?
A tired looking man wearing a loose tie dumped a tall stack of paper on my desk. I looked up at him, befuddled. He talked in a hurried fashion, and didn’t so much as ask my name.
“Open up the admin program. Right there, that icon there,” he said, pointing at my computer. “Good. Now I’ll need you to go through these records and manually input anything before 2010. Is that clear?”
“Yes, yes, I think that’s clear,” I said.
“You think or you know?” he asked. “I won’t be running back here to answer your questions.”
I was struck by the brusqueness of his tone. I certainly wasn’t in Dearborn anymore. I quickly scanned the program on my computer, and saw the little tab where I could input information. I looked at him squarely.
“I know,” I said with confidence.
The man gave me an earnest smile, which was quite unexpected.
“Good,” he said, as if he were actually proud of me.
When he walked away to scare more interns, I looked at the stack of paper with dread. There was nothing left to do but attack it head on, as Samantha would say. I got to work, inputing each letter and number by hand. I tried to keep my head down, to not look at the time. It felt like hours had gone by. My eyes were going blurry from staring at the tiny print and then the bright screen. I finally lifted my head and checked my progress. The stack of paper was just as high as ever. I sighed, and got back to work.
A couple of hours into it, I found my groove. I worked like a machine, and soon, I’d made a sizable dent in the mountain of work. I watched my fingers fly across the keyboard, amazing myself with my speed and precision. Someone called my name, and my head shot up. I was slightly annoyed at the broken concentration. When I saw it was Jamie, I sat up straight, ready to receive orders.
“Miss Carver,” she said. “Mr. Jeffrey would like to see you.”
“Me?” I said, confused. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Jamie snapped. “Come with me.”
This is definitely a mistake, I thought as I followed Jamie to the forth floor. There’s another Lucy Carver out there. They have the wrong one.
Jamie opened a thick, wooden door for me, and I stepped into Evan Jeffrey’s office. I couldn’t wait to tell Samantha about this. She would kill to be here. The office was massive and covered with dark wood paneling. Through the large window, he had a breathtaking view of Chicago. Evan sat at his desk, his jacket flung over the chair behind him, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was looking at his computer, typing rapidly.
“Miss Carver, sir,” Jamie said.
Evan typed a little longer, then looked up from his work. “Thank you, Ms. Winters.”
Jamie took her leave, and I was stuck standing awkwardly in front of his desk. Evan regarded me distantly, but there was a warmth in his eyes. I felt a flutter in my stomach, the kind that usually preceded a crush.
Don’t fall for your boss, I told myself, strengthening my resolve. Like you’d have a chance anyway.
“Miss Carver,” he said after what felt like an eternity. “Have a seat.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as I sat down, and as a result, stumbled slightly on my way into the leather armchair. Evan opened a file on his desk, then leaned forward on his elbows, piercing me with his dark eyes.
“I was very impressed with your application,” he said.
I was overcome with guilt. I knew that to make it in the business world, I’d need to be cutthroat, but I couldn’t take someone else’s opportunity. I needed to let them know about their mistake.
“Are you sure you have the right application?” I said.
Evan let out an astonished laugh. “Of course I’m sure,” he said. “Miss Carver, I’d like to invite you to be my personal intern. If you take this position, you won’t be doing data entry, or cleaning the break room. You’ll be working with me closely. I hope you understand what an important opportunity this is.”
I shook my head in disbelief. This didn’t seem right at all. Take it, a greedy voice inside of me said. Don’t think about the other Lucy Carver. But in the end, my conscious won out.
“Mr. Jeffrey, I don’t mean to insult you. Are you absolutely sure you have the right person?” I asked. “I have my social security card. We can run the number against the one on the application.”
Evan laughed again. “Miss Carver, that really won’t be necessary. I’ve made no mistake. Now, would you like the position or not?”
I blinked, taken aback. If he refused to make sure I was the right person, then there was nothing left to say.
“Yes, of course,” I said. “And thank you.”
Evan’s eyes twinkled as his mouth spread into a broad smile. “Excellent,” he said. He returned to his computer and began typing again. “You can go home for the rest of the day. I don’t have a project for you yet.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“No, no,” Evan said, looking up at me with those dark eyes. “I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” He turned back to his work. “Jamie will give you the deta
ils.”
“Um, okay,” I said, trying to hide my confusion. “See you tonight then.” The words felt so strange coming out of my mouth.
Jamie escorted me back to the third floor. As we walked through the sea of desks, the interns looked at me with what felt like envy and contempt. I avoided their eyes. Obviously they could tell I was in the wrong place too. As I gathered my things, Jamie wrote down the address to the restaurant and what time I should be there.
It wasn’t quite lunchtime when I emerged out of JNC Industries and on to the city streets. I didn’t want to go back to the apartment and do nothing, so I decided to visit a coffee shop I’d heard a lot about. I savored a delicious latte and chocolate chip cookie, hoping the sugar would distract me from how hopelessly confused I was.
Back home, it felt good to change out of Samantha’s clothes and into my own. I looked for something interesting to watch on television, hoping to keep my mind off of work. How long would it take for Evan to realize I wasn’t up for the job? My savings would run out in a couple of months. Maybe I should forget about the internship all together and get a job a coffee shop.
When Samantha came home from work, I was excited and apprehensive to tell her about my day. She sat right on the couch beside me without even taking off her shoes.
“Tell me all about it,” she said. “And why are you home so early?”
I bit my lip and she gave me a suspicious look.
“Oh no,” she said. “Is it bad? How bad?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not bad. It’s weird. How exactly did you get me set up with this internship?”
Samantha blinked, confused. “Get you set up? No, I just sent in your application for you.”
“Wait, what? I thought you had a contact or something.”
“I did, but that was for another company, and it fell through.”
“Oh,” I said under my breath. “Oh.”
Samantha grabbed my arms and shook me. “Tell me what happened. You’re killing me.”
My chest swelled with pride. “Evan Jeffrey invited me to be his personal intern.”
Samantha’s mouth fell open. She backed away from me slowly. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” I said, about to burst. “He let me go home early, and I’m having dinner with him tonight.”
Samantha scrunched her eyes. “You’re what now?”
“Having dinner,” I said. “Wait, is that not common?”
“For an intern, no,” Samantha said. “For a personal intern, still no. Where are you going?”
I showed her the slip of paper with the restaurant’s address.
“I know this place,” she said, studying, then looked up at me. “This doesn’t seem business related.”
“Oh no, it is,” I said, waving my hand. “He wants to discuss a project or something. So, what do I wear. The same outfit from today?”
Samantha’s expression relaxed slightly. “No,” she said, shaking her head. You should wear the pink dress. It looks so pretty on you.”
*
I didn’t know where Samantha got the idea that this was some kind of date. I kept trying to tell her that it wasn’t as she applied a dark shade of eyeshadow to my face.
“That’s too dark for me,” I said, looking into the mirror.
Samantha removed the makeup with a cotton ball. “How’s this?” she asked, showing me a pale brown shade.
“That better,” I said. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. “Not that any of this is important anyway. This is just business.”
Samantha made a noise that came from her throat, then started brushing blush onto my cheeks.
I took the subway to the address Jamie had given me. The train let me off in a residential neighborhood, and a part of the city I’d never been to before. It had a charming, bohemian feel with its eccentric shops, the tiny parks that sprung up along the streets, and all the young people that milled around.
When I stepped inside of the restaurant, I could see why Samantha would think this was something more than a business dinner. The room was dimly lit. All of the tables seemed to be for two, and couples held hands over the burning tea candles and vases of white roses between them. The hostess was a chicly dressed woman who looked like she belonged on a runway.
“Miss Carver?” she asked me. “Right this way.”
I followed her through the dining room to a room in the back. When I walked in, I was dazzled by the light from dozens of candles. White roses were displayed everywhere, and perfumed the air with their sweet scent. And there was Evan. He stood from the table wearing a different suit than he’d had on earlier. It was tailored closely to his lean body. He looked at me and smiled. He was so handsome in the golden candlelight. Where was I? Had I been transported to a fairy tale?
“Good evening, Miss Carver,” Evan said. He took my hand and kissed it.
“Good evening,” I said.
Samantha couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be a date. If it was, I didn’t think my nerves could handle it. Evan pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down. He moved his chair closer to mine before he sat. He looked only at me, as if he was completely absorbed. I blushed. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention.
“We’ll start with champagne,” he told the waitress. “And the oysters.”
My face scrunched at the thought of oysters. Evan laughed.
“What is it? You’re not a fan of oysters?” he asked.
I shook my head. “They’re slimy and weird.”
“Why are people from Michigan so skeptical of seafood?” Evan said. “Try one of these. They’re overnighted from the Pacific Northwest, and taste as fresh as the sea.”
Evan’s gaze was unescapable. I felt he saw every movement, and could even read my thoughts.
“You remember that I’m from Michigan,” I said.
“Dearborn, to be exact,” Evan said, then recited my home address. “Born December sixth, 1989.”
“That’s right,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “You’ve been studying today.”
Evan smiled coyly at me. “I’ve been studying your application since the day it landed on my desk.”
There it was, that burning, uncomfortable feeling that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. Before we could carry on with whatever this was, I had to get to the bottom of this.
“It’s been so long since I sent in the application, I barely remember it,” I said. “Can I ask what impressed you so much? It couldn’t have been my grades.”
“Confidence,” Evan said. “That’s what you need to work on. Lucy, don’t ever sell yourself short. I want you to see what I see.”
“What you see?” I laughed, nervously. “You barely know me.”
“I know all about you,” Evan said. He reached under the table and pulled out a tablet. He opened the screen and began to read. “‘How are we to have belief in God if He cannot be seen? There is no evidence of his existence, yet the faithful gather in droves on Sunday mornings, the religious holidays are held sacred, and many would die for their beliefs. What drives them to worship a being that doesn’t reveal Himself? The answer is love. Those who believe are those who feel His presence, and the form He takes is love. What better evidence exists, than the beating of one’s heart when brought together with the one they were destined to be with? This is why we pray, this is why we worship. Love is why we believe.’”
Evan laid the tablet on the table. I studied the screen. He was reading from an essay I’d written for a philosophy class. Samantha must have included my writing portfolio in the application. They were meant to be sent to various journals, not to apply for a job.
“Beautiful,” Evan said, earnestly. “All of your writing is authentic and honest. I never was much of a writer myself. I’m more of a numbers man.”
“I got a ‘C’ on that paper,” I said.
Evan grasped my hand. “I imagine the professor who gave you that ‘C’ has a mind that’s completely closed up.” He squeezed my hand. “When I
read your work, I see someone who lives life wide open. That’s why I chose you.”
I bit my lip, still unsure how to read this situation. “I still don’t see how someone with a philosophy degree can help you with your business.”
“Lucy, I see brilliant young people all the time who graduated at the top of their class. But they don’t look around them and question what’s going on, especially not with your eloquence. You are a rarity. I know you can help the business, but that’s not all I want. I want you in my life,” Evan said.
My mouth fell open in shock. My mind raced as I tried to figure out what I could possibly say. At that moment, the waitress returned with our champagne and oysters. I was happy for the distraction, though I didn’t like the looks of the those squiggly little creatures perched on ice in their shells. Evan lowered his head and sat silently for a moment.
“You pray?” I asked when he lifted his head up.
“Yes, is that a surprise?” he asked.
“I’ve never seen anyone in this city pray,” I said.
“The faithful are here if you only look.” Evan picked up his glass and clinked it against mine. “To new beginnings,” he said.
“To new beginnings,” I echoed, then took a sip. The champagne was delicious, and obviously very expensive.
“Tell me, Lucy,” Evan said. “Do you study the Bible?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve been going to Sunday school my entire life. I’ve read the Bible countless times.”
“And do you agree with every word in there?” Evan asked.
“There are a lot of words,” I said, diplomatically.
Evan looked at me in a way that made me nervous, like he wanted to challenge me. “‘For the husband is the head of the wife, as Christ also is the head of the church.’ Do you know it?”
The fizzy champagne caught in my throat. I swallowed hard. “Ephesians. I know it.” I’d heard that verse repeated at dozens of weddings, and it always made me cringe. “That’s, perhaps, one thing that I don’t agree with.”
“But the Bible is your faith,” Evan said with passion. “You must accept all of it.”
“It’s an old book,” I argued. “Some things are outdated.”
Sweet Submission: Jenny and Max Complete Series Plus Bonus Short Story Page 9