The Intern Volume One

By: Brooke Cumberland

But it sure as hell doesn’t hurt.

She’s the most intriguing of all the applicants. Her self-confidence is obvious, but she’s also one of the smartest we’ve interviewed all day. The way her body shifts easily between the three of us to the way she passionately speaks about my father’s business has me feeling an uncanny attraction to her.

Once the interview is over, I sneak a glance at her ass as she walks out. Bad habit, I suppose, but damn if I didn’t like what I saw. I shift uneasily in my chair as I watch her leave, needing to tame my cock before I can stand up and walk out of here.

Truthfully, her application and her interview were by far the best I’ve seen all day, but I’ll need to dig into her background to double check she isn’t a fraud or a secret Russian spy.

* * *

“All right, I’m out for the day,” I announce to Erika.

“Sir, you have a message here from a Professor Hennings.”

“Oh, shit,” I groan. It’s Casey West’s guidance counselor. I had called to verify all the information she gave us was correct.

“Do you want me to call back and schedule a time?”

“No, thanks. I’ll just call back tomorrow.”

I’m not in the mood to do anything else intern-related. I don’t even care for interns, yet it was ‘part of the business’ as my father said.

We’re a teaching company, son.

I didn’t need a damn intern, but since it’ll keep my dad off my back, I have to play nice.

We’re a team.

Be a team player.

And yadda fucking yadda.

If I have to deal with an intern every Saturday for four months, she should at least be hot—give me something to look at.

Before you go judging my character about noticing pretty girls, you should know I work in an office with seventy-five percent men. That’s a lot of sausage to be looking at. My college party days are way over, and even if I wanted to party, I wouldn’t have the time. The second I graduated, I was forced into working here and learning to ‘take over’ so my dad can eventually retire.

It isn’t that I hate working here. I love what I do, but I’m not ready to give up my life yet. I would’ve eventually joined the family business but at my own pace. I hadn’t been given the chance to live my life my way or make decisions on my terms.

The only thing that keeps me from jumping off a bridge is that I actually do love the job aspect of reporting and writing—case files are a close second—but reporting about the solved ones are the real highlights of this job. And my life. But now, there’s no intermission for girls in my life. The occasional hookup isn’t uncommon, but the last thing I wanted at my age was to be tied down.

To anyone.

I pour two fingers of whiskey before taking a seat on the couch. I grab the remote and flip through channels until something interests me. Nothing does, so I pour two more fingers of whiskey. I do this about two more times before I stumble into my room and pass out on my bed, fully clothed.

* * *

The week flies by, and I completely forget about calling all the interns references. It’s already Thursday, so I say fuck it and tell Paul just to pick one.

“You can’t seriously just say pick one? She’ll be working mainly for you.”

“Fine, the hot one.” I wave a hand in his direction as I continue typing away on my computer.

“And that would be?” He stands eagerly in front of my desk.

“I don’t know...Cathy, Corrine, Casey something. The last one,” I ramble.

“Ah...Casey West,” he offers.

“Yeah, she was the best one for it anyway.”

“And that ass wasn’t bad either,” he responds dryly.

My body ticks at the way he’s describing her. I know I’m not much better, but hearing it from another guy—especially Paul—fuels my urge to punch him in the face.

“Don’t say shit like that,” I growl as I slowly raise my head to look at him. The expression on his face turns from supercilious to one of being baffled.

“Relax man. Did you call her counselor or references?”

I want him out of my office so I can finish reports, so I tell him what he wants to hear.

“Yeah, yeah. All good.”

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