“Sure.” He grinned. “You see, typically we have a finale, but because of the, um, what did you call it? Olympic bed sport, we can’t film anything without putting an NC 17 rating on it, and most of our employees would suffer trauma from the amount of times people see Mark’s white ass.”
“Hey!” I pointed my finger at him. “I do not have a white ass.”
“You kind of do.” Olivia cupped her hand over her mouth, whispering.
I turned and glared. “And you have a funny middle toe!”
She gasped. “You swore!”
Max sighed, then clapped his hands. “Children, let’s get back to the topic at hand. Are you so dense that you wonder why I said we stopped filming?”
“Filming,” I repeated. “Filming.”
“That’s what I said.” Max shook his head slowly. “I fear for our next generation, I truly do, repeating words and tocking on the tik.”
“Um sir, it’s actually TikTok—”
“I KNOW WHAT TOCKING IS! It’s better than SNAPPED!”
“Chat?” Olivia tried. “Snapchat?”
Max pressed his hands to his temples like we were annoying him and not the other way around. “Think of your pets. If you go to prison, you can’t visit the pets. Becca will never have sex with you again unless it’s a conjugal visit. Hey, I’ve had a few fantasies about myself in orange—”
“Sir.” Dustin suddenly appeared out of thin air. Okay, not really; he came in the door, but it was creepy. He was creepy.
“NOT NOW!” Max roared. “Unless you have my steak, do you have my steak?”
“They were out,” Dustin said quickly. “But they had lobs—”
“Say lobster, and you’re fired! You know shellfish makes me puffy!” Max tugged at his tie. “Do you want me to be puffy for the cameras! Do you? Do you!” He thundered.
Dustin looked unsure if he preferred one or the other and then just said. “I don’t think you look puffy.”
Even I knew that was the wrong answer! Do better, Dustin!
Max’s eyes bulged. “So I look puffy? Is that it?”
“No, no I was giving you a compliment!”
“HAH! A compliment would be, ‘wow, Max that suit fits you well!’ Not, ‘I do not think you look puffy’! Because the person receiving the compliment wants to be told they look AWESOME! So let me rephrase this. DO I LOOK AWESOME?”
“Sir, YES, SIR!”
“That’s all I ask, Dustin. Really not a big ask. Now go wash your face. You’re perspiring, and it’s making me sad.”
“Sorry, sir.” Dustin ran off, leaving me more confused than ever as Max faced us again.
He sighed, placing his hands onto his desk as he leaned over. “I know you think I’m eccentric, but I get things done. And you two—” He pointed between us. “—need jobs, and the only way for me to accurately find out your true potential is to put you through what I like to call intern hell.” His grin was pure evil. “Not only has every, er, non-censored moment been shared with every CEO looking to hire, but around my entire company as a reminder of how they were when they were young, fresh-faced, and I would say innocent but…” He shot a look at the gold bars.
I turned away guiltily.
“So now that the internship is over before it truly ever began, and I know what you both want, allow me to present you with this.” He pulled out two black portfolios and handed one to each of us.
My throat went dry as I realized it read, “Welcome Packet, Emory Enterprises.”
Thank God Olivia’s said the same thing!
I quickly opened it and nearly passed out. A ten thousand dollar signing bonus on top of a seventy thousand dollar salary, access to a company car, and two weeks paid vacation plus all major holidays off!
Olivia let out a scream, then sprinted toward Max and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Max grinned and gently shoved her away as she barreled toward me and pulled me in for a tighter hug. I wanted to kiss her so badly, it hurt.
“So, now that we’ve settled that.” Max grinned. “I’ll have Dustin come back in and show you the rounds, Olivia, and you, Mark, have a plane to catch.”
“What?” we said in unison.
“What did I miss?” I added.
“Nothing but your dreams!” Max announced. “You said you wanted to be in LA, so I placed you at one of my premiere boutique hotels in Santa Monica. Miss Olivia requested to stay here. Your internships are finished. Welcome to Emory Enterprises. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I also have a plane to catch. Mark…” He held out his hand.
I couldn’t take it.
I couldn’t actually even stare at it.
“But—” I gulped. “We aren’t finished, you said three months, and we’ve only done one apartment. Weren’t there several penthouse apartments? I mean, we need to finish the job, sir.”
He smiled. “As I said, you did well. The employees loved you both, I’m sure you had a fun summer fling, but you’re moving on, bigger and better things, right Mark?”