Selah wants to be the one to lock him down. He’s a fill-in-the-blank . . . It could be a purse, a car, a trip, a new pair of shoes. She’s constantly in pursuit of shiny things, and well, he’s very shiny.”
Selah’s pursuit or Brody’s prowess or both aren’t any of my business or concern. I shrug one shoulder, my own way of saying I don’t care either way . I have ropes to tie.
“How many now?” Miko asks, throwing away my lunch trash for me.
“One hundred seventy-six.” I sigh, continuing to work on the knot.
“I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got to completely redesign the lounge layout for Saturday now. Don’t ask me why.” She turns to go.
“Miko, thank you for lunch.” I smile at her. “I have no idea why you’re so nice to me, but I really, really appreciate it.”
Miko stops a few feet away and smiles back at me. “Landon, I’m nice because I like you and because I used to be you. And when I was you, I was always, always , starving and thirsty and afraid to leave to pee.”
“Really?” I ask shyly.
“Really. Someday you’ll buy a newbie intern a latte, and the circle of life will be complete.”
She throws a nonchalant peace sign over her shoulder and saunters away and out the door. On the other side of the room, the floral ladies are still at it, only now someone is blasting the Bee Gees station on Pandora, and they’re all humming along.
I turn back to my programs feeling infinitely better. If Miko used to be a lowly, losery intern like me and is now the coolest person I know, then surely there’s hope for me too.
Only 322 more ropes to tie.
I finish the programs around nine thirty that night. Apparently, Selah doesn’t like anything to be finished last minute. I have to admit that I agree with the idea . . . in the light of day. But this night I’m not feeling very generous during the last hour of work. When I finally do stumble my way out of the production-room door, I am shocked to find the office still alive with people. I’m somewhat mollified by the idea that everyone else is hustling to finish their own projects just like I am . . . everyone except Selah, of course. She clearly doesn’t stay late when she has droves of minions to stay for her.
When I come in the next morning I’m down to the last conceivable all-black ensemble I can pull off. I’ve got on black skinny jeans, black ballet flats, and a plain black T-shirt. The shirt is sort of schlumpy and something I’d never normally be caught dead in outside of the house, but I compensated with a pretty red lip stain and a few more lashes than I’d normally wear . . . A girl’s got to get her glam in where she can.
As I pass by the angry receptionist—whose name is Ambrose, by the way—I am surprised by the quiet in the office. I’d expected the pandemonium of pre-event chaos to greet me, but it looks like half the staff isn’t even here.
I stop by Miko’s desk on my way back to the small office.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, setting a latte down on her desk.
“At the load-in. What’s this?” She taps the latte with her pen.
“Repayment beverage. Today we’re going to try a red-velvet latte.” I’m sipping on my own.
“Thanks! I’ve been here since six, and I’m hanging on by a thread. Also, I do love thousand-calorie coffees,” she says, sniffing the drink through the hole in the lid.
“Well, since it’s likely the only thing I’ll eat today, and you can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, I thought we’d be OK.”
“A valid point.” She sips her drink with relish. “This is amazing!”
“I know, right?” I turn to head to the office.
“I’m headed to the load-in to oversee setup.” She starts throwing random things from her desk into her already-overstuffed bag. “But I’ll catch you later.”
I stop short and turn back around.
“ You’re overseeing the setup? Shouldn’t she be doing that?” I whisper back at her.
“Oh, Landon,” she
Selah’s pursuit or Brody’s prowess or both aren’t any of my business or concern. I shrug one shoulder, my own way of saying I don’t care either way . I have ropes to tie.
“How many now?” Miko asks, throwing away my lunch trash for me.
“One hundred seventy-six.” I sigh, continuing to work on the knot.
“I’ll leave you to it. I’ve got to completely redesign the lounge layout for Saturday now. Don’t ask me why.” She turns to go.
“Miko, thank you for lunch.” I smile at her. “I have no idea why you’re so nice to me, but I really, really appreciate it.”
Miko stops a few feet away and smiles back at me. “Landon, I’m nice because I like you and because I used to be you. And when I was you, I was always, always , starving and thirsty and afraid to leave to pee.”
“Really?” I ask shyly.
“Really. Someday you’ll buy a newbie intern a latte, and the circle of life will be complete.”
She throws a nonchalant peace sign over her shoulder and saunters away and out the door. On the other side of the room, the floral ladies are still at it, only now someone is blasting the Bee Gees station on Pandora, and they’re all humming along.
I turn back to my programs feeling infinitely better. If Miko used to be a lowly, losery intern like me and is now the coolest person I know, then surely there’s hope for me too.
Only 322 more ropes to tie.
I finish the programs around nine thirty that night. Apparently, Selah doesn’t like anything to be finished last minute. I have to admit that I agree with the idea . . . in the light of day. But this night I’m not feeling very generous during the last hour of work. When I finally do stumble my way out of the production-room door, I am shocked to find the office still alive with people. I’m somewhat mollified by the idea that everyone else is hustling to finish their own projects just like I am . . . everyone except Selah, of course. She clearly doesn’t stay late when she has droves of minions to stay for her.
When I come in the next morning I’m down to the last conceivable all-black ensemble I can pull off. I’ve got on black skinny jeans, black ballet flats, and a plain black T-shirt. The shirt is sort of schlumpy and something I’d never normally be caught dead in outside of the house, but I compensated with a pretty red lip stain and a few more lashes than I’d normally wear . . . A girl’s got to get her glam in where she can.
As I pass by the angry receptionist—whose name is Ambrose, by the way—I am surprised by the quiet in the office. I’d expected the pandemonium of pre-event chaos to greet me, but it looks like half the staff isn’t even here.
I stop by Miko’s desk on my way back to the small office.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, setting a latte down on her desk.
“At the load-in. What’s this?” She taps the latte with her pen.
“Repayment beverage. Today we’re going to try a red-velvet latte.” I’m sipping on my own.
“Thanks! I’ve been here since six, and I’m hanging on by a thread. Also, I do love thousand-calorie coffees,” she says, sniffing the drink through the hole in the lid.
“Well, since it’s likely the only thing I’ll eat today, and you can’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, I thought we’d be OK.”
“A valid point.” She sips her drink with relish. “This is amazing!”
“I know, right?” I turn to head to the office.
“I’m headed to the load-in to oversee setup.” She starts throwing random things from her desk into her already-overstuffed bag. “But I’ll catch you later.”
I stop short and turn back around.
“ You’re overseeing the setup? Shouldn’t she be doing that?” I whisper back at her.
“Oh, Landon,” she
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