Office Date

Since when did Jack even care?

Since when did Jude even notice me?

The day can’t possibly get weirder—after all, we only have a half-hour left before we get to go home.

I hide a yawn behind my hand when Dustin walks in with a stack of manila envelopes.

He plops them down on our desks.

One has my name on it.

I almost ask if I should open it, but it’s not like our bosses hid tarantulas or something in there.

Ha-ha, no but seriously, right?

Then again, Max is super eccentric, but does he really want his interns dying of cardiac arrest?

Negative.

I quickly dump the contents onto my desk.

Inside is a small packet labeled “Date Number One.”

Next to it is a key.

And finally, directions to my new apartment in the same building I work in. Lovely, now it really is a prison.

I take a deep breath and start to read through the instructions for the first date. Apparently, this company wrote a self-help book on the art of the first date followed by several products that could help guide you into it as well as—oh wow!— as well as after it if you so choose.

The products are already in a basket at each of our apartments. Our job as a team is to plan the perfect in-home first date.

Girls use the products.

Guys have to cook using what’s in the fridges.

Must stay for at least two hours and play one of the games created by the company, which helps partners get to know each other.

Great, sounds worse than the stapler!

All teams who make it through the two hours without burning any food, arguing, and learning at least five new facts about one another will be given points—teams must also rate the products and give honest opinions about their effectiveness.

All I keep wondering is why they won’t tell us what the products are.

“This is bullshit,” Jude says to Anderson. “What does it matter? Isn’t this what the R&D team is for?”

Dustin, still standing there, clears his throat. “Max likes to take a more organic approach to research and development. Any product deemed useless won’t be sold in any of our stores and will be pulled from all of the company’s hotels immediately. Anything given a high score will be rebranded under Emory Enterprises and merchandised. Does that answer your question, boy with waxed eyebrows and a spray tan?”

“I’m Latino, you racist prick,” Jude says with a sneer.

“But he does wax his brows, so one for two, Dustin, one for two,” Jack adds.

Everyone snickers around us. Jude looks ready to sue, but I know he wants this job just as much as the rest of us.

“Apologies.” Dustin turns bright red. “I just—never mind. You have lovely skin. Compliments to your skincare routine; it must take ages to get that dewy look.”

“Are you hitting on me now?” Jude asks, his voice laced with shocked disbelief.

Dustin, if possible, turns even more red. “No, no, no, no.”

“Damn it, Dustin.” Max comes waltzing in. “Do I need to send you to HR again to get the talk?”

“No, sir!” Dustin straightens up.

Max rolls his eyes. “Grow a brain, and while you’re at it, do a nice little soul check, would ya?”

“Soul check?” I mouth to Jack.

Jack shakes his head, face twisted and looking as confused as I am.

“Now, do your breathing,” Max says to Dustin. “Do you have your rock?”

Dustin breathes in and out in and out while Max pats him on the ass and then looks at us. “Now, only I can do that because he’s my cousin, and we’ve talked about good touch/bad touch; if HR see’s any of you doing anything like this, you’ll most likely be fired; nice demonstration, though, am I right, Dustin?” He slaps his ass again. “Alrighty.” He checks his watch. “You’re dismissed. You have exactly twenty minutes to get to your apartments. Clothes have been delivered for you to your exact requirements. If you make a note of what you would like from your dwelling places, we can send someone over to grab things, but you should have all your needs met right down to your shampoo, phone chargers, silk pillowcases, and toothbrushes.”

I’m still in shock that we are actually doing this. I feel semi-numb as I grab my stuff and put the contents back into the envelope. I walk into the elevator and see Jude try to make his way over to it.

Jack blocks his way.

And lets himself in, then hits the down button giving Jude a middle finger as the doors close.

I smack him on the chest with my envelope. “Was that necessary?”

“For me?” He snorts out a laugh. “Yes, I can’t stand that guy. And for you, double yes, he just wants to fuck you.”

“Wow, thank you; what a great way to almost start our first date.” Scowling, I turn away from him.

The elevator stops at the company apartment level.