Page 118
Story: After (After 1)
“Hello, Mr. Vance.” I smile and reach out to shake his hand.
“Go ahead and call me Christian. I will show you to your office.”
“Office?” I blurt out.
“Yes, you will need your own space. It’s not much, but it’ll be yours. Let’s go over your paperwork there.” He smiles and then walks off so quickly that I strain to keep up in my heels. He makes a left turn into a hallway full of small offices.
“Here we are,” he announces. There is a black tag with my name in bold white letters next to the door.
I must be dreaming. The office is as big as my dorm room. Mr. Vance and I have different ideas of “not much.” Inside, there is a medium-sized cherry desk, two filing cabinets, two chairs, a bookshelf, a computer—and a window! He takes a seat in front of the desk, so I go and sit behind it. It’s going to take some getting used to the idea that this is actually my office.
“So, Ms. Young, let’s go over what your duties will include,” he says. “You will be expected to go over at least two manuscripts a week; if they are excellent and fit in with what we publish here, then you will send them to me. If they aren’t worth me looking at, toss them.”
My mouth falls open. This internship is literally a dream come true. I will be paid and receive college credit to read.
“You will start out at two hundred a week, and if you do well after ninety days, you will receive a raise.”
Two hundred a week! That should be enough for me to get my own apartment, albeit a tiny one.
“Thank you so much; this is all so much more than I expected,” I tell him. I can’t wait to call Hardin and tell him about all of this.
“It’s my pleasure. I have it on good authority that you are a very hard worker. Maybe you can even tell Hardin how great it is, so he’ll come back and work for me again,” he says jokingly.
“What?”
“Hardin, he used to work for us before Bolthouse snatched him up. He started as an intern here last year, did great work, and I quickly hired him. But they offered him more money—and let him work from home. Said he didn’t like the office setting, so he left us. Go figure.” He smiles and adjusts his watch.
I laugh nervously. “I’ll remind him how great this place is.” I had no idea he had a job. He has never mentioned it to me.
Mr. Vance slides the folder across the desk to me. “Let’s get this paperwork out of the way.”
After thirty minutes of “sign here” and “initial here,” we are finally finished and Mr. Vance leaves me to “familiarize” myself with the computer and office.
But as soon as he walks out and closes the door behind him, all I can think to do is squeal and spin myself around in my chair, at my desk, in my new office!
Chapter seventy-six
When I get back to my car after the best first day possible, I call Hardin, but he doesn’t answer. I want to tell him about how great my morning has been and ask him why he didn’t tell me that he has a job or worked at Vance.
By the time I get back to campus it’s only one, since they dismissed me early, being busy with some high-level meetings or something. I basically have the whole day to do nothing, so I end up going to the mall and walking around. After wandering in and out of almost every store there, I go into Nordstrom, figuring I could use a few more outfits for my internship. The memory of Hardin and me in the mirror this morning flashes in my mind, and I realize I could also use some new panties and bras. My undergarments are so plain and I have had them a while. Hardin doesn’t seem to mind, but I would love to see his face if I took my shirt off and had a bra that wasn’t plain old black or white. I pick through the racks and find a few promising sets. My favorite one is carnation pink and made almost completely from lace. Pulling it off of the rack alone makes me blush, but I really like it. A saleswoman with curly hair and way too much red lipstick walks over to try to help me.
“Oh yeah, that’s nice, but what do you think about this one?” she says and holds up something that resembles a hot pink bundle of strings on a hanger.
“Um . . . not really my style,” I tell her and look at the ground.
“I see you prefer the full underwear?” she asks. Why must we actually discuss my underwear choices? This could not be more humiliating.
“You should try the boy short style; it’s sexy without being too sexy,” she says and holds up the same light pink set I am holding, only the panties are made differently. Boy shorts. I never cared too much about my panties because no one has seen them; who knew this would be so humiliating and complicated.
“Okay.” I give in and she pulls a few more off the rack: a white, a black, and a red set. The red is a little shocking to me, but I have to admit it’s intriguing. Even the black and white ones look more exotic than my usual choices because they are made of lace.
Her smile is a wide and scary chasm. “Just try them; they are all the exact same style.” I nod politely and take them from her, hoping that if I walk away she won’t follow me. Relieved when she doesn’t, I find a few dresses as well and a pair of comfortable dress shoes. I have to ask the cashier to repeat my total three times before I finally pay. Fancy underwear is much more expensive than I thought. Hardin had better like it.
When I get back to my room, Steph isn’t there and I haven’t heard from Hardin, so I decide to take a nap. My new clothes are put away and I shut off the light.
I wake up to an unfamiliar ringtone. I roll over and open my eyes. Sure enough, Hardin is sitting on the chair with his feet up on Steph’s dresser.
“Go ahead and call me Christian. I will show you to your office.”
“Office?” I blurt out.
“Yes, you will need your own space. It’s not much, but it’ll be yours. Let’s go over your paperwork there.” He smiles and then walks off so quickly that I strain to keep up in my heels. He makes a left turn into a hallway full of small offices.
“Here we are,” he announces. There is a black tag with my name in bold white letters next to the door.
I must be dreaming. The office is as big as my dorm room. Mr. Vance and I have different ideas of “not much.” Inside, there is a medium-sized cherry desk, two filing cabinets, two chairs, a bookshelf, a computer—and a window! He takes a seat in front of the desk, so I go and sit behind it. It’s going to take some getting used to the idea that this is actually my office.
“So, Ms. Young, let’s go over what your duties will include,” he says. “You will be expected to go over at least two manuscripts a week; if they are excellent and fit in with what we publish here, then you will send them to me. If they aren’t worth me looking at, toss them.”
My mouth falls open. This internship is literally a dream come true. I will be paid and receive college credit to read.
“You will start out at two hundred a week, and if you do well after ninety days, you will receive a raise.”
Two hundred a week! That should be enough for me to get my own apartment, albeit a tiny one.
“Thank you so much; this is all so much more than I expected,” I tell him. I can’t wait to call Hardin and tell him about all of this.
“It’s my pleasure. I have it on good authority that you are a very hard worker. Maybe you can even tell Hardin how great it is, so he’ll come back and work for me again,” he says jokingly.
“What?”
“Hardin, he used to work for us before Bolthouse snatched him up. He started as an intern here last year, did great work, and I quickly hired him. But they offered him more money—and let him work from home. Said he didn’t like the office setting, so he left us. Go figure.” He smiles and adjusts his watch.
I laugh nervously. “I’ll remind him how great this place is.” I had no idea he had a job. He has never mentioned it to me.
Mr. Vance slides the folder across the desk to me. “Let’s get this paperwork out of the way.”
After thirty minutes of “sign here” and “initial here,” we are finally finished and Mr. Vance leaves me to “familiarize” myself with the computer and office.
But as soon as he walks out and closes the door behind him, all I can think to do is squeal and spin myself around in my chair, at my desk, in my new office!
Chapter seventy-six
When I get back to my car after the best first day possible, I call Hardin, but he doesn’t answer. I want to tell him about how great my morning has been and ask him why he didn’t tell me that he has a job or worked at Vance.
By the time I get back to campus it’s only one, since they dismissed me early, being busy with some high-level meetings or something. I basically have the whole day to do nothing, so I end up going to the mall and walking around. After wandering in and out of almost every store there, I go into Nordstrom, figuring I could use a few more outfits for my internship. The memory of Hardin and me in the mirror this morning flashes in my mind, and I realize I could also use some new panties and bras. My undergarments are so plain and I have had them a while. Hardin doesn’t seem to mind, but I would love to see his face if I took my shirt off and had a bra that wasn’t plain old black or white. I pick through the racks and find a few promising sets. My favorite one is carnation pink and made almost completely from lace. Pulling it off of the rack alone makes me blush, but I really like it. A saleswoman with curly hair and way too much red lipstick walks over to try to help me.
“Oh yeah, that’s nice, but what do you think about this one?” she says and holds up something that resembles a hot pink bundle of strings on a hanger.
“Um . . . not really my style,” I tell her and look at the ground.
“I see you prefer the full underwear?” she asks. Why must we actually discuss my underwear choices? This could not be more humiliating.
“You should try the boy short style; it’s sexy without being too sexy,” she says and holds up the same light pink set I am holding, only the panties are made differently. Boy shorts. I never cared too much about my panties because no one has seen them; who knew this would be so humiliating and complicated.
“Okay.” I give in and she pulls a few more off the rack: a white, a black, and a red set. The red is a little shocking to me, but I have to admit it’s intriguing. Even the black and white ones look more exotic than my usual choices because they are made of lace.
Her smile is a wide and scary chasm. “Just try them; they are all the exact same style.” I nod politely and take them from her, hoping that if I walk away she won’t follow me. Relieved when she doesn’t, I find a few dresses as well and a pair of comfortable dress shoes. I have to ask the cashier to repeat my total three times before I finally pay. Fancy underwear is much more expensive than I thought. Hardin had better like it.
When I get back to my room, Steph isn’t there and I haven’t heard from Hardin, so I decide to take a nap. My new clothes are put away and I shut off the light.
I wake up to an unfamiliar ringtone. I roll over and open my eyes. Sure enough, Hardin is sitting on the chair with his feet up on Steph’s dresser.
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