Chapter 03 Not Everyone Is Out To Get Some

“Tough day?” her supervisor asked as he leaned on one side of the office table.

With her forehead resting on the smooth metal surface of the table, she tilted her head from side to side. Emma took a deep breath as she straightened her back.

“I can do this,” she said as she opened her eyes to stare at the same problem on the computer screen that she had been trying to figure out for the last two hours.

“Still don’t tally?”

Tilting her head up at him, she watched him drink his usual instant coffee from an unusually large mug that was a little chipped at the handle, it could nick the skin. After working under him for about a week, she just assumed that he already knew how to hold it without getting a cut.

The man had large dark circles under his eyes, thick framed glasses, and although he was wearing the proper dress code from head to foot, a standard single colored plain shirt with the sleeves rolled up in his arms, black slacks, and leather shoes, his clothes were wrinkly and faded, his shoes battered and old.

“Have you gone through the receipts?” Henry asked.

“I’ve already gone through every receipt for the quarter three times, checked that each has been properly recorded in the system, but the balances remain…” Emma said, sighing. She was just an intern, but the friendly staff made her feel like she was one of them, and in the span of a couple of days, her supervisor was treating her more like a coworker than another workload, a grown up to babysit.

Emma didn’t apply into one of the big firms or at least a more decent company, but the camaraderie she got from the only firm that accepted an intern despite her late request, and for this small firm to accept her during one of the busiest times of the year, since deadlines for filing tax returns were almost due, were a blessing to her.

“Have you checked for duplicates?” he asked, calmly taking a sip of his steaming coffee.

Realization dawned on her as red started to creep into her cheeks. She had completely forgotten!

“N-No,” she said in a low voice, looking down in shame. They needed the papers done by the end of the week and they were already way behind schedule.

“There you go,” he said. He lazily headed back to his office, leaving her to continue her work. “Send the reports to Sheryl when you’re done.”

“Thanks, Henry!” she said as he disappeared into the hallway.

Her agile fingers pressed on the keys, and after three hours, the reports had been generated and ready for the team to review. Looking at the far-right bottom end of the screen, the time showed ten minutes before five, just in time for her to wrap things up and call it a day.

The printer whirred as the reports were being printed, and Emma packed her things, her energy on low levels. Classes drained her from morning to midafternoon, and the internship was … demanding. The printing stopped, and she compiled the papers into a folder. She gathered her backpack and waited for the computer to shut down before leaving her assigned desk, which was situated in a storage room, with boxes of who knows what and filing cabinets that filled up the room.

Emma went into the hallway, to her right, which led to Henry’s office. In front of his office was his secretary’s work station. She was about the same age as he, curly hair framing her small face, typing away.

“Hi, Sheryl,” she said, nearing her desk. “Got the reports done, hopefully.”

Sheryl looked up from the screen and pulled her luscious cherry red lips into a tired smile. “Thank you, Emma,” she said, getting the folder from her. “You’re a big help.”

“Oh, I don’t think I do much,” she replied sheepishly. “I wouldn’t have been able to finish that today if Henry hadn’t come by.”

Sheryl pushed her glasses down slightly as she said, “He did?”

“Yeah…”

“Looking after our only intern, I see. Glad to have you with us, Emma.”

“Thank you, Sheryl,” she replied. “Glad to be here.”

“Err… I know you’re supposed to clock out now, but do you mind doing me a small favor?”

Emma paused to think about it. “Uh… no, no, it’s alright. What do you need me to do?”

“Well,” she said, opening a drawer and taking out a folder. She placed it on top of the stack of thick binders she had on her table. “These needs to go into storage. Do you mind putting them there? The box is labeled A115-21. I’ll put them there myself but…” She sighed at the end.

“It’s alright, Sheryl. It’s no big deal.”

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Thank you, Emma.”

Holding the bottom binder securely, she slid the stack off the table. “Glad to help.”

Emma underestimated how heavy they were, the entire stack right up to her chest. She held back a grunt as she returned to the storage room, and hurriedly placed the binders on the table.

She shook her arms, then looked around for the box. It was placed in the middle of a three-boxed stack. It didn’t seem likely that she’d be able to move it herself– the boxes were too big, and they looked too heavy. Both hands on one side of the top box, she pushed as hard as she could, but it wouldn’t budge. She looked at the table.

Sheryl did say those binders were to be placed in storage. They’ll probably never use them again … for another five years?

She shook her head, dismissing the idea of putting them on the top box instead, and pushed again, but it was of no use.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah!” she squealed, startled at the interruption.

Henry entered the room, his hands in his pockets. “You know you’re not getting paid for overtime.”

She pointed to the table and said, “Oh, I told Sheryl I’ll put those into storage,” his joke flying over her head.

“Which box?”

“This one,” she replied, patting the second box. “Do you mind helping me move this one? It’s really heavy.”

He rolled up his sleeves. “Excuse me,” he said as he took her place. Then, planting his feet and hugging the top box, without so much as grunt or a twitch in his face, he raised the box and set it down on top of another box since there was no free space for it on the floor.

Her jaw fell open. That was … unexpected.

“You good?” he asked with a smirk. If one saw pass the raincloud that hung around him, and the tiredness in his eyes, it’d be clear that he was actually fit for his age, and also, strikingly appealing – there was something about the disheveled energy he radiated, and a cunningness behind his cerulean blue eyes that she found attractive.

“Hello? Henry to Emma?”

“Oh … yeah,” she said, coming back to reality.

Henry smiled at her. “I understand. I don’t look like I can throw a punch.”

“Yeah…”

“You live on the West Side, right?” he asked, going to the table and carrying all the binders. Emma opened the box for him, and he added the binders into the pile. “Do you need a ride? I’ve something to do near the area.”

“Oh … no, thank you,” she said. “I’ve to drop by somewhere else later.”

“That should do it,” Henry said, closing the box. “Thanks for applying here, Emma. We need all the help we can get. Hope you’re not regretting it now?”

“No,” she replied, smiling. “I’m glad to be here.”

“Well, it’s already way past five. I’ll see you next week.”

“Yeah…,” she said, making her way out the door, “thanks again … for all the help today.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The entire floor was quiet. All the junior staff had left the office and only the long-standing employees were left. There was a clear division on work stations, so it was quite easy to tell.

Emma went out the double doors, at the same time an Audi pulled over in front of the building. The driver stepped out of the vehicle, his clothes a casual attire of a navy-blue cotton shirt and faded denim jeans and opened the door for the passenger.

A man stepped out, his lips in a tight line as his gaze directed to the double doors. His face had a ruggedness to it – obsidian black eyes with a hard cold gaze and a stubble which added to his appeal. His brown hair was neatly tied to a man bun atop his head, and his tattered jeans and tight-fitting black shirt showcased his heavy built.

Emma found herself staring, and she immediately looked down, and descended the stairs. She didn’t dare spare him another glance. From her peripheral vision she saw another guy round the back of the car and join him. The man didn’t even acknowledge the other guy, who was still staring at her, and she found it uncomfortable.

The new guy called the man, who she judged was the boss, “Aidan.” He looks like an Aidan. That was plain rude of her. Her stomach did flipflops as she hurried to reach the curb, away from the eyes that bore into her back.

He had the coolest scent she had ever encountered – something that reminded her of the woods in winter – freshly fallen snow and bone-chilling wind.

Rounding the end of the sidewalk, Emma released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. That was one intense awkward moment – well, guys like those were only ever seen on tv, fashion magazines, billboards, so lucky her to see one in person.

She took her phone out from her bag and opened the notepad app, scrolled through the list of groceries she needed to get for next week and matched it with the budget. She sighed. More cuts to stretch the budget were needed to make it last until the month’s end.

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