20 t w e n t y : first day, pt. 2

The cafeteria in this place has all the selections that one could want: salads, sandwiches, soups, and pastas. This should have been the selling point of the place. From the corner of my eye, I spot Staple's assistant in a tight mini skirt and busty blouse, grabbing a vegetarian sandwich and a meatball sub. Who let her cut the line?

I whisper to the guy in front of me. "Can we just jump to any section, or…?"

"No, but you know Steph," he replies.

My face crumples into confusion.

"Stephanie—Mr. Staple's assistant or secretary… or whatever."

"Stephanie Ware," I say more like a question.

The guy looks to be about my age, and he addresses Staple as "Mr. Staple."

"She gets special privileges. You know, for sucking the boss's dick," he says casually.

What the hell?

"Umm," I chuckle nervously.

"It's pretty much common knowledge around here."

"How long have you been working here?" I gasp in disbelief.

"Oh, I don't work here. I'm an intern."

"Yeah, me too," I smile.

"I'm Andrew," he offers his hand.

I shake it. "I'm Genevieve. My friends and family call me Gen."

"Ooh, we're finally at the front," he faces the kitchen.

Stephanie sashays out of the café with both meals and a self-satisfied look on her face.

Andrew and I head over to the section with all the interns.

"Everyone, everyone," Andrew calls, but everyone is too immersed in conversation to pay any mind. "HEY," he barks.

They all face up and give him their undivided attention. "What?" a snarky voice echoes.

"This is Genevieve—"

"People call me Gen," I interject.

"—she is an intern here, and she's my new best friend. Be nice."

Some roll their eyes at Andrew's intrusion, but most welcome me with kind eyes and smiles.

"Sit here," Andrew offers.

"Thanks."

"So," a tan girl with large olive green eyes leans over to me, "how do you like the internship so far?"

"Well, I receive a big ass stack of law briefs to read, I met this really nice guy who tells corny dad jokes—"

"Mark Sluth?" she asks.

"Yeah, he's great. Funny," I chuckle lightly.

"He's such a kind spirit," she replies. "Oh," she lightly smacks her forehead, "I never properly introduced myself. I'm Olivia."

"Hello, Olivia," I say in a British accent. "I don't know why I did that," I chuckle.

She laughs. "Happy to welcome you to the team."

We continue eating, and Andrew leaves to get something printed.

"Have you met Ms. Ware yet?" Olivia asks secretively. She says "Ms. Ware" like it's a slur.

"Uh, yeah, actually when I started volunteering with Marie's Soups, I met her. She's a… character."

"She's a slut."

I wouldn't go that far…

"We have to address her and the boss formally, but it's all a joke. 'Secretary' means glorified blow-job giver," she chuckles, taking a drink of her mint-infused water.

Sounds like what Andrew said in the line.

"How exactly do you know about that?" I ask.

"We can all hear it," she scowls down at her plate. "They always go at it at around three-ish."

I did not need to know that—but I asked.

"Wow, that's something," I remark.

"Are you afraid someone's going to get you in trouble or something?" she asks pointedly.

"Hmm?" I ask, confused.

"You don't seem too opinionated on the matter…" she says suspiciously.

"No, I just don't want to assume anything," I say sweetly.

She still looks kind of suspicious.

"So, how's the food?" I point at her plate.

She loses interest but responds, nonetheless. "Good. I'm going to catch up on some reading. See ya."

Okay.

Soon, most of the interns start fading away, until I'm the last one at the table. It's 1pm, and there are 2 more hours of the workday—2 more hours until I need to put my music on full blast to avoid any suspicious sounds.

I return to my office space with the same stack of reports on the desk. Being the overachiever that I am, I was eager to learn more.

***

Out of nowhere, my alarm blares, signifying the end of the day. I must have gone through like 20 of the original folders that Mark gave me. I count that as a win. Thankfully, it sounds silent as I pack up my stuff. What Andrew and Olivia described just gave me so much anxiety—I just don't want to be put in a position to hear that stuff. It's not right, but it sounds like they normalized it.

"Were you surprised by the workload?" a familiar voice asks.

The last person I expected to see fills the doorframe. "A little. I'm much obliged to offer my reading services, though." God, why am I so weirdly formal sometimes.

"Great, great. I try to make the work here enjoyable, so just give me any necessary feedback."

Can you try not to fuck anyone in the office? Thank you.

"Okay. Thank you so much."

I scurry out to get my parking validated. As I'm exiting, he blurts, "If you haven't already, you'll find your place here. Just disregard the rumors and competitiveness of the workplace. You'll do fine."

I raise an eyebrow. He steps forward, until we are less than one foot apart.

"I know an anxious intern when I see one. I was one when my dad basically forced me to 'get ready to take over the company,'" he mocks.

I take a deep breath. "I think I'm settling in fine."

Then, he does the impossible. He comes even closer and says, "Remember, you can always come to me or Steph for help."

Steph.

I try my hardest not to scowl at the thought of her. He ranted for so long about how much he doesn't want to be like his dad… then he does something that he would do. But I don't even know if that stuff is true.

I saw them at the party that Cas dragged me to; pretending that there isn't something there would be naïve.

I don't know how to feel about this whole situation. It seems like he has several different personalities—first he's cold and sardonic, then he's warm and amiable, then he's down to earth… he's charming and handsome. I don't know what to think. I might be having an eighth-life crisis. Anyone would fall victim to his charm, his rich boy with a commanding father act, but not me. I'm keeping my head screwed on straight.

"Thanks," I reply blankly.