The Intern Novels & Stories

"Isn't 800 bucks better? You can buy so many things with that." I stared at my phone and voted for the cash without hesitation. I couldn't help thinking, who in their right mind would pass on 800 dollars for some company-branded tarts? But less than a minute later, the intern in charge of tallying votes, Davin Holt, tagged me in the company group, saying, "Fabian, you're the only one in the department who picked the bonus. Did you vote wrongly?" I frowned. Before I could reply, his second message popped up.

Then a name surfaced, an image forming in her mind: the quiet, meticulous intern. “There is… Luke,” she finally said, the name feeling strangely small in the vast office. “He’s an intern. Marketing assistant. He’s incredibly organized, intelligent, and remarkably discreet. He processes information quickly and follows instructions to the letter. He’s also… very quiet. He doesn’t engage in office gossip, keeps to himself.”

Established staff acknowledged briefly. New hires are given slightly more space. Viktor stood when the interns were called, straightened his jacket with the unhurried confidence that was his natural register, and addressed the room. “Viktor Bryce. Backend Systems, under Senior Engineer Daniel Rowe. I’m from Brooklyn Tech Institute, and I'm sure that in a few months, I'll no longer be an intern. But an accomplished man.” Laughter moved through the room with genuine warmth. He sat down, looking entirely pleased with himself.

Kelvin looks me up and down, taking in my designer heels, my silk blouse, and my carefully styled hair. "As if," he mutters under his breath. Barbara clears her throat. "Anyway, Kelvin, I'm leaving her in your capable hands. Try to train this... trainee." She gives me one last look—somewhere between pity and amusement—and then she's gone, the door swinging shut behind her. Kelvin and I stare at each other. "So," he finally says. "You're my new intern." "Looks like it." He sighs dramatically, moving to his sorting table. "Alright, pop quiz. What's the difference between interoffice mail and external correspondence?"

Make them unforgettable. I had been staring at that sentence for three hours. I heard his footsteps before I saw him. The particular quality of them — measured, deliberate, unhurried — was distinct enough that some part of my nervous system had apparently already cataloged it and started responding before my conscious mind caught up. My spine straightened. My fingers stilled on the keyboard. I did not look up. "Most interns," he said, "don't work past six." "Most interns," I said to the screen, "don't get handed suicide projects."

Forty-eight hours of silence stretched like barbed wire between us. At lunch on the third day, I sat at a high-top table in the lounge, picking through a protein bar and pretending to read donor analytics. A new intern slid into the seat beside me with a boldness only the oblivious could muster. All teeth and too much cologne. “You always eat alone?” he asked, grinning like he already knew the answer. I didn’t bother hiding my sigh. “Depends on the company.” He laughed, like I’d complimented him. “I’m Emmett. Finance. Here for all your spreadsheet needs.”

I shrugged and finished the beer. "You always have been a horrible liar." "Yeah, I know." I tossed the bottle in the pool just to hear him bitch about it. "Come on, asshole." He got up as I laughed. "There is this one girl. She's an intern at the hospital." "An intern?" He handed me his beer and picked up the pool net to fish out my bottle. "How old is this intern?" "I don't know. Twenty-four maybe?" "Cradle robber." He smiled over his shoulder.

I agreed before he kissed me softly. Once I was in my office, I heard a knock on my door. "Come in." I said. A tall man walks in that looks like he was very nervous. "Hello, I am Tor. I am the intern assigned to your campaign." He then bowed. I forgot completely that this man was supposed to join me today. I waved him in to have a seat before I sat down and introduced myself. The remainder of the day was spent getting him caught up on my proposal. I got a few texts from Bo about who runs what in the firm but nothing about us.

Her smile is small, and her cheeks look bright red. "Jagger, what happened?" Janet asks, and I shake my head. I am not going to spill anything in front of a woman I have never met, but I know Janet would love to know Julio is in this situation. "Who's this?" I ask, leaning my head in the direction of the girl standing. "My name is Amelia; I am your new intern," she says, stepping out from behind the desk and walking to me with her hand up for me to shake. I nod slightly, focusing on Janet again.

Because of this incident, the intern even splashed paint on Keegan's car. The intern who was dismissed from the Vinci Rivera Group was not let go due to a lack of professional abilities. It was discovered that he had been arrested for soliciting sexual services, prompting the company to terminate his internship and settle his salary before ultimately firing him. Despite this, the intern felt that his personal conduct was not related to his work and believed that the company had no grounds to expel him. As a result, he decided to sue the company.