Work and the Intern [6]

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6. Work and the Intern

Maureen

I climbed out of the car and glanced at Ryan out of the corner of my eye. He turned to me, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, resting his hand on the steering wheel and I thought, um, wow, and tried not to stare.

"So, when do I pick you up?" He was asking and I blinked, disoriented.

"Um... I'll call you," I said, hoisting my purse higher onto my shoulder. "I shouldn't be long."

"Alright. I wonder..." he paused and then- "I wonder, what am I supposed to do with myself all day while you're working..."

"I'm sure you'll manage," I said. He glanced at me with a grin and then leaned forward to shift gears.

"See you later then, Miss Carvelli."

I opened my mouth to reply but he immediately gunned the engine, pressing his foot down on the gas pedal; I had to step back as he sped away, peeling out of the parking lot.

I smiled stupidly to myself - show-off - but thoughts of him quickly faded as I headed over to the building.

My father was temporarily running his main company from the plant while our new building was in construction. We hadn't expected to expand so quickly and the board of directors immediately undertook the task of building a new center for the main quarters of BFN once they realized how much it would be needed within the next month. I was Dad's gofer girl, essentially. I helped in administration and helped oversee the lower divisions of employees. I had a regular salary like everyone else in the plant and Dad never gave me special treatment while we were working.

"Maureen." I looked up, hearing my father call my name. He was standing at the top of the staircase in front of the huge double doors of the building, flanked by three body guards. He held a cell-phone to his ear and he gave me a small smile as I waved in response.

I had always been told that I was the spitting image of my father. We both shared the same hazel eyes and high cheekbones and dark hair. Dad's grandparents were Puerto Rican so some of the curviness his family shared was passed down to me, along with the full lips. He was several inches taller than me, but other than that, no one would second-guess where I got my features from.

My mother was tall and willowy, with olive skin and dark eyes. My older sister, Lauren, inherited her more exotic features. Justin was one of the few of us who came out to be a bit fairer.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Dad said smilingly, walking towards me as he snapped his cell phone shut.

"Morning, Dad," I kissed him on his cheek, smelling the familiar cologne he always wore. "How long have you been here?"

"Oh, since six," he said wearily. "I had an emergency meeting with George about our production rates. For only a quarter million, we can bring in two more machines." Dad put an arm around my shoulders as we started walking into towards the building. His bodyguards trailed behind us. "We agreed that since the machines can spew out ninety bottles a minute, we can make 129,600 more bottles a day- by running the plant twenty-four seven and having the employees coming in rounds of three shifts.."

"Do you have a spreadsheet?" I asked, already calculating the numbers in my head.

"Well, I'm supposed to be in a meeting ten minutes ago. I need you to draw one up. You know the drill- estimated sales, tax percentages based on the new amount of products we'll be managing, etcetera, etcetera. Talk to Chris or George if you have any questions. Get it done in an hour, get Grace to look it over, and present it at eleven to the board of directors. Got it?" He looked at me expectantly, searching my eyes. I nodded. He knew I could handle this stuff. And I loved proving it to him.

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