Chapter 2

“This is your office here. You’ll be sharing it with Dave, Karen, and ... Damiqua?” the man guessed, nodding at three young people they found huddled together in the small room. A small, darker woman cocked her head in confusion, but the tour continued onward before she could respond.

“You’ll have a chance to swing back here before lunch,” his new employer said, shutting the intern’s office door behind them, “but we’re gonna be throwing you into the thick of it after that. You up for it?”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor threw back promptly. His guide hadn’t introduced himself yet, or asked Taylor for his name, but the man had been waiting at the entrance for him, and seemed eager to get through it.

He was an older, balding man, quite short, and quite overweight, but he had a friendly enough face. He made the effort of eye contact and made sure Taylor was actually following along with his explanations, which was more than he had come to expect from a low level job like this. Copy rooms were pointed out, the supplies room was explored and pillaged, lunch was secured in the appropriate fridge.

“You’ll be happy to know you won’t be fetching any coffee, or anything like that. We have food services for that. No printing, or copying. We’ll say nothing an intern might have done in my day, and we’ll leave it at that.” The guide grunted and wiped the sweat from his brow as he pulled open another heavy, wooden door. “And now we’re right back to the start, with your office down the hall, and mine beside us,” he said flicking a finger from one side of the hall to the other.

Taylor glanced at the name placard on the door. “David Kosslings” was embedded in a plastic plaque. He willed his brain to remember it.

“Before you go to lunch, just make sure you can get signed into your laptop. If not, one of the other interns will take a look with you, or find me. For now, though, I need you on my laptop, so I can show you how this all works, and what I’ll need you to start on. Ready?”

Taylor was ready with another “Yes, sir,” and then they were off.

And then immediately delayed, as Mr. Kosslings took one phone call for a full fifteen minutes, and then a second as Taylor stood awkwardly in the corner, waiting to begin, and too nervous to do anything but wait.

The program and the task sounded straightforward. His boss, clearly, was uncomfortable with the technology, and adamant that they walk through the examples together. It boarded on painful, to watch fingers struggle slowly to find the right keys, to watch his boss -David, be somehow less familiar with the system than he was. But after a full two hours of demonstrations, Taylor was able to dash back to his office to begin.

The other interns shots their heads up as he entered, cellphones hovering beneath their desks, already with their screens switched back off. They relaxed quickly when they saw who it was. He waved a hand in greeting.

“It’s not Damiqua, is it?” he asked. The woman in the corner shook her head gravely. “It’s Karen.”

The rest of the day went quickly. The work was finished before lunch, but Kosslings had no time to meet with him again, so instead he finished the day by playing on his phone and waiting for the door to open. If the others were as bored as he was, they hid it well. They kept their heads down and their brows furrowed, occasionally sprinting out the door to disappear and reappear looking even more concerned.

“You ready?” the others asked, just before 6, as they shouldered their bags in unison and made their way to the exit. It was the most they had spoken to each other since lunch, which they’d spent huddled over their computers, coordinating some higher project they’d apparently been pulled into, nibbling cold sandwiches in-between. The others nodded and finished tapping out the last of whatever they were working on. Taylor followed closely behind. The day hadn’t exactly been exciting, but it had gone by in a blur.

“So, how did you get by today?” Karen asked, as they started down the hallway.

“They, uh, didn’t give me much to work on...” Taylor started, trailing off as he spotted Kosslings’ bald patch through the window to the man’s office. He looked busy, typing away as he cradled a phone against his shoulder.

Don’t look up, don’t look up...

Kosslings’ eyes flickered up to meet his as they passed. Then, with a plummeting feeling in his stomach, Taylor saw a single index finger raise upward. Wait, the gesture meant. The others waved, and Taylor waited behind.

Time stretched on indefinitely. His eyes glazed, starring into nothingness. The internet had long since run out of interesting content to explore. Nothing remained but the wait. The fact that he wasn’t even hourly hovered over him like a rain cloud. “I want to go home and assemble my dresser” was the only coherent thought he could cling to. The longer he waited, the more certain he was that he had been forgotten, and that his boss long ago left him behind. None of these thoughts made him angry, though. Only boredom existed now.

The door knob clacked and the door swung open, catching him off guard as he laid his head against the table. He jerked upright, blinking his eyes back awake.

It wasn’t Kosslings. It wasn’t even anyone else he had met that day. It was a lanky, older man in a plain dress shirt, his face leathery and suntanned, his hair white and buzzed short. He wasn’t quite grim, but he had the air of a grandpa who’d been in the war, and had little time for whatever Taylor had to offer. He held a letter up between two fingers for Taylor to take.

“You’d be Taylor Evans?” the man asked. Taylor nodded. “Then this is for you,” he finished, as Taylor pulled the envelope free.

It was heavy, expensive parchment. There was an engraved seal and everything.

“What is it?”, he managed as the man stepped back out the door and tried to shut it again.

“Hm? It’s your invitation,” the man said, sounding confused at his ignorance. “For tonight. They won’t let you in without it. Don’t forget it now,” the man’s eyes widened with what looked like a real concern that Taylor was a moron. “Have a nice night.”

Taylor barely had time to let out a “thanks” before the man was gone again, leaving him alone again. He twirled the paper in his hands, and cracked the paper tape holding it closed.

Dear Taylor Evans,

You are invited on the evening of April the 27th to the welcome event for Sherwood Estate Holdings new hires at 8 p.m. at the Lion’s Tale Gentleman’s Lounge (address below). Formal wear only.

Taylor scanned past the address and found, in smaller font, “Attendance mandatory.” He starred blankly at it for a while longer, escape plans endlessly cycling through his mind. How mandatory was ‘mandatory’? Which box might his nicer clothes be kept in? Was there even time to get home, change, and get there in time?

Not really.

He was out the door with his bag a moment later. Kosslings was still doubled over his keyboard, somehow slumped even further than before, typing away. Taylor swept past him quickly and took the stairs downward three a time, clearing the length of the garage at the quickest pace he could keep without attracting stares.

Three minutes later, he was looking at the back of gridlocked traffic. He took a careful breath in, thinking thoughts of inner peace, and felt it turn to black as his mother’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hello?” he asked, drooping slightly over the wheel.

“Well, hello stranger. All finished with your first day of work?” The sounds of happy crowds in the background drowned out her voice some, and irritated him a few notches more.

“Not yet.”

She let out a gasp of surprise. “But how could they?” She asked. More indignation followed. “They told your father they were lucky to have you!”

Brake lights flickered off for the briefest moment, only to flash back into his eyes as he tried to find the gas pedal.

“Just a meet and greet. Something for new hires. It’ll be okay.”

She sighed audibly, calmed but unhappy. “Well, it better be. Are they treating you alright? Does it seem like it’ll be interesting?”

Taylor’s eyes narrowed further. “Yes, mom.”

“Have you talked to your father recently? He’s going to be over there in a few days, just a reminder. I know he’d love to see your new place.”

“Mmm,” he managed, after a long moment.

“And-”

She went on for some time. By the time she hung up, he was pulling into his back alley parking lot, and it was already a quarter after seven. He had gone to the office in a dress shirt and trousers, so a jacket and a tie were all he needed to be passably well-dressed. He cast a longing glance at his bottle of Scotch on the island in the kitchen and the pile of takeout advertisements, and then it was back out the door, and back into traffic that had only marginally improved.

It was okay. Things were fine. Think of the positives, he told himself.

There would still be plenty of night left after this thing was over. The other interns weren’t going to be there -this was all higher ups. People who (not that he wanted to exploit the fact), but they likely wanted to impress his father. It would be people who knew of him, at least, so the small talk wouldn’t be too painful. This was how you got ahead, and made opportunities. This was what he was here for. This was a good thing.