The Intern (wattys2014)

Prologue

I wore a pair of faded powder pink converse sneakers to my first job interview.

It's not that I don't know better than to wear sneakers to an interview. I grew up in Los Angeles, the city of the fake and the fashionable. Standard job interview etiquette required you to wear at least flats, and kitten heels were better. I'd managed to get a dress together, but when my heel broke ten minutes before I had to leave on the morning of my interview, I improvised. I threw on my converses and took a deep breath, hoping my potential employer didn't judge me too harshly on shoe choice. I needed this job more than I needed a new pair clearance pumps. All of my friends were packing their bags for college, and I was hitting the classifieds. Sure, I dreamt about college, and I had the grades to get in. But a year ago, my mother had lost the battle to cancer. In addition to missing my mom, I knew Dad was up to his ears in medical bills. We weren't on the verge of bankruptcy, but I thought that asking Dad to cosign on my loans would be too much to ask at the moment. 

Besides, the kind of job I wanted required hands on experience more than it required a degree. I wanted to be a wedding planner here in Los Angeles. My mom had been a florist who eventually opened her own wedding planning business, so I grew up around weddings, lace, and bridal showers. Which is why when I saw the ad for a paid internship at Exquisite events (albeit, very low paying), I was convinced it was fate. After a couple of bad years, it was time something good happened. I'd get the internship, amaze them, and become wildly successful. That was how I planned it, so not even broken shoes would slow me down. After all, I’d never been the type of girl to quit. When I broke my ankle during soccer season when I was a sophomore, I nominated myself to be the team manager and stayed on. And when my friends had problems and personal drama, I saw to it that I would help them, no matter what the cost. When I saw a problem, I couldn’t let it be, even if it would be better for everyone involved. I’d been told my father on several occasions that meddling and stubbornness were family traits, and I had to agree that I’d inherited them. So, even with my dusty old converses, I knew I wanted to and had to nail the job interview.

I rushed to the office, and when I walked in, I immediately felt out of place. Girls at the office looked like they had stepped out of a magazine. They all had briefcases, and probably had better resumes. My resume had my class rank from high school, and references from my teachers. I was completely out of my league, but it was my dream job. Exquisite Events didn't feel like a new place, it felt like home. I sat down awkwardly beside all of the other intern wannabes, who looked as nervous as I did. Suddenly, I saw all of their heads turn and smiles traced their faces. It didn't take me long to realize why they were smiling; a very attractive man in a suit had just opened his door. He had jet black hair, green eyes, and the kind of face that belonged on a movie star. And this man definitely worked out, you could tell by the way his shirt hugged his body.

I think my mouth was probably hanging open with pleasant surprise when I heard him speak. 

"Ann Blake," he said.

I raised my hand, as if I was in high school again, and he waved me over to him. I tried to stay calm, even though I always got flustered around hot guys. Sure, I’d had the occasional boyfriend here and there for brief periods. But when most girls were learning how to flirt and tell the right jokes with guys, I was sitting beside my mom’s hospital bed with my dad. I wasn’t docile and I considered myself to know how to stick up for myself, but I still got shy occasionally. Despite my nerves, I cautiously rose and walked over, all of the other girls glaring me down. I would have been jealous too, although I assumed they'd all get an interview with the Mr. Yummy when it was their turn. I smiled, hoping and praying he didn't notice my shoes the way the other wannabes did. I heard some snickers, but it didn't matter. The only person I needed to impress was the handsome man before me, and I could do that. I just had to get my heart to stop pumping like my chest wasn't big enough.

I sat down beside him, and tried to relax. He was devastatingly handsome, and his suit looked like it cost more than my car. One flash of a friendly smile, and I relaxed, realizing he was probably a nice guy.

"My name is Robert Del Vaughnn," he said to me. "I am the event coordinator and intern director here at Exquisite Events. This is my mother's company, and she has been in the event planning business for almost thirty years."

"Wow," I said shyly.

"So, my first question is about your work history. Do you have any previous experience that you feel would qualify you for this position?"

"This would be my first job."

"Ok," Robert said, looking at my bleakly empty resume. "So, what makes you a candidate we should be interested in? What special qualities do you bring to the table?"

"I am a hard worker, a fast learner, and nice person," I said. "I would do my very best for you."

Robert nodded and smiled. I'd just given him an incredibly generic answer, and he nodded. Uh oh.

He asked me a few more standard interview questions, and I was doing alright. Mostly, I was so nervous my voice sounded weak and shaky and my words were muddled. The man, whose name I found out was Robert Del Vaughn, was smiling politely. He told me the interview was complete, and I checked my watch. We'd spoken for four minutes. Four minutes was enough time to decide someone wasn't good enough, but not to verify that they were your dream intern. I knew I'd screwed it up. Before he opened the door for me, acting very gentlemanly, I stopped him.  

"Wait," I said. "I know I didn't give you my best interview." 

"You're ok," Robert said. "I just have a lot of people to meet today."

"Ok," I whispered. "But I want to say something to you first." 

"I'm listening, Ann." 

"You see, the thing is… I really want this job. We’ve barely spoken and I don’t want you to overlook me…I know how I must seem to you. I am eighteen, naive, and inexperienced. I am soft spoken, quiet, and short. I wore converses because I'm clumsy and I broke my shoes. A lot of people would look at me and see a reject." 

"Ann, I don't think that at all..." 

"I know, but I'm going somewhere. Just be patient please, I’ll spit it out.”

I took a deep breath, not wanting to stammer as I made my case.

“I'm the kind of girl who isn't stopped by broken shoes or moms with cancer or anything else. I may not be the most experienced. I am definitely not the most qualified. And I am absolutely not the prettiest girl here, but I can make this company better. If you give me a chance, I will be fearless and I will surprise you. Please, just don't forget me in a stack of resumes, because I'm the right person for this job."

"I disagree," Robert said flatly. My shoulders slumped and the high I felt from pouring my heart out was quickly erased. 

"Ok, I gave it my best shot," I said.  

"That's not what I disagree about," Robert said. "I disagree with most of what you said. You seem smart, which makes you qualified. Clearly you have some guts, which you'd need to work here. And Ann, you are without a doubt the prettiest girl in the room." 

"Wow," I said, dumbfounded. This Abercrombie model thought I was pretty? And he wanted to hire me. 

"Look, I need to interview other girls, but I have one more question for you." 

"Ok, now I am listening," I said.

"Working here means working for my mother. Our last three interns quit in two days, because she is cold, harsh, and has ridiculous expectations. Assuming you still want the job after telling you she's made six employees cry in the last four days, here is my question. Are you tough enough to handle my mother as a boss?" 

"My dad is a retired LAPD officer," I said. "I'm much tougher than I look."  

"Ok then," Robert said. "I'll call you, either way." 

Part of me hoped I wouldn't get the job, and that maybe Robert would call me for a date. But the rational part of me knew I needed cash. So when I got the call that night that I was hired, I celebrated by buying a new pair of shoes for my big day at my new job.