Page 50 of Palm South University: Season 3

MY SISTERS AND Iused to play a game with our pencils when we were younger.

We’d grab them by the eraser and wiggle them slightly in the air, pencil held horizontally, and it’d give the illusion that the pencil was made of rubber. We’d watch that pencil for hours, giggling and pretending like we were magicians.

I’m playing that game right now, though not by choice, because Mr. Church just asked me to stay back after an all-staff meeting. As the room clears, everyone casting eyes back in my direction, the pencil in my hand is just as rubbery as my knees taking shaky steps toward where he’s seated at the head of the long board table. I tuck it inside my notebook as I take the seat next to him.

It’s been six weeks since the Alpha Sigma concert. Six weeks since the CEO of the event agency I intern for “bought” me for a date at a Greek function at a school he’s ten years too old to go to. Six weeks with no explanation as to why, with no mention of it at all — with not a single word said to meperiod.

But that six-week silence was just broken.

In front of the entire agency.

I force a steady breath as the last person exits, the door shutting behind them with a soft click as Mr. Church turns to face me. It’s hard to keep my eyes trained on his, to not notice the hard edges of his jaw or the perfect slope of his nose as he smiles easily, as if the two of us being alone in the same room doesn’t faze him in the least bit.

“I know you probably have some work to wrap up before you get out of here for the weekend, so I’ll try to make this quick,” he starts, his posture relaxed as he kicks back a little in his chair, unfastening the two buttons on his cobalt blue suit jacket. It falls open, exposing his crisp white dress shirt beneath it as he steeples his fingers, eyes still locked on me. “You did a great job at the event pitch meeting withBare•lylast week.”

I swallow, ankles crossed and hands holding tight to the portfolio notebook balanced in my lap. “Thank you, Mr. Church. That means a lot to me.”

His eyes spark a little when I say his name. “I wasn’t the only one impressed. Mrs. Delure spoke with your manager earlier this week to get more of the details hammered out for the event, including the lead event planner, and she asked specifically for you.”

My mouth falls slack. “She… are you serious?”

“I am.”

For a second I just stare at him, but then I laugh, covering my wide smile with my hand as I shake my head. “I can’t believe that.”

Mr. Church chuckles, too. “Neither could your manager, which is why she came to me to ask if it was even possible. We’ve never had an intern in such an influential role before. She’s worried you might not be prepared to do the job effectively.”

My smile falters. “Oh…”

“I, however, am not.”

My eyes find his then, and they’re like lasers piercing straight through me. It’s as if every secret I’ve ever hidden, every dark thought I’ve ever had is easily accessible to him. But he doesn’t look away. He leans in closer.

“You made an impression on me in that elevator, Miss Daniels, and every day since. You can do this. And that’s why I told your manager to make you the lead event planner. You’ll have a team of three — two associates and one other intern. We’ve never done this before, and you’re going to be met with resistance. I know you can handle it, but before I announce it to the staff, I need to knowyouknow it, too.”

I tighten my grip around my notebook, knuckles white from the force as my heart thumps like a kick drum under my ribs. I think of the other associates on the project, of how they’ve already turned their noses up at me when I’ve excelled. My manager said they’re just threatened, but with this news, I know I’d have a new, larger target on my back.

But I didn’t come here to make friends. I came here to learn, to prove myself, and to stand out.

I want to be the best, and I won’t get there without taking risks.

“I’m ready. I can do this, Mr. Church.”

He smiles, kicking back in his chair again. “That’s what I hoped you’d say. I’ll send the email on Monday. I’m going to have to explain why we’re letting an intern take the lead event planner role, but with Mrs. Delure asking for you by name, it should be easy to do. And if anyone gives you a problem over it, just come to me.”

I blush, tucking my hair behind one ear. “No offense, Mr. Church, but running to tattle to the CEO probably won’t earn me any respect points. I’ll be okay. I’m no stranger to gossip or bullying,” I add with a laugh. “I’ve got pretty thick skin.”

He watches me, tapping his steepled index fingers together. “I don’t doubt that.”

I’ve never been so pinned by a gaze before. I physicallycan’tmove, can’t speak, can’t do anything other than stare back at him, wishing I could read his mind.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?”

At that I laugh. “Honestly? Don’t judge me, but I plan on staying in bed all day. We finally have a Saturday without a sorority event and I have two months’ worth of sleep to catch up on.”

Mr. Church smiles. “Would you consider getting out of bed around two if I promised to have you home in time to get a full eight-hour rest?”

Wait.