by Lynn Stevens
“You’re unbelievable,” I said as I pushed around him.
“What I’d do this time?” he said.
I just kept walking.
…
Thursday morning, I woke up before the sun, partly because of habit and partly because of nerves. I had five hours to think about what I needed to do, what I needed to say, how I needed to say it. It was nerve racking. The only thing that could keep my mind off the interview was cleaning my apartment. And that didn’t take long.
The apartment wasn’t anything fancy, but I fell in love with the exposed brick and big window. The living-room-slash-bedroom-slash-dining-room was the perfect size for one person. My daybed doubled as a couch, and the coffee table had a lid that lifted into a table that I used as a desk. There was a small storage drawer underneath that hid my laptop. A nightstand doubled as an end-table and a dresser for my delicates.
When I moved in, Dad brought my old armoire and dresser from Kerns, driving five hours to surprise me with it. I’d thought it was sweet until I realized he’d only driven down to make sure the neighborhood was safe. When two of my older brothers went to college, he didn’t think twice about where they lived. They could’ve been under a cardboard box in a crack house and Dad would’ve said “boys will be boys.”
Not for the first time, I wondered what my life would’ve been like had Mom not died when Bradley was born. Would she have supported me? What would it have been like not to cook and clean for seven other people? It wasn’t like I was Snow White or anything. I loved my family and loved taking care of them. If it wasn’t for Henry, I probably wouldn’t have had much of a life during high school. I shook those thoughts from my head. It didn’t matter. The past was the past and the what-ifs were like poison. They’d eat away at your soul until every single detail of your life became one.
I didn’t have a TV, opting to watch everything on my laptop. Most of my time was spent reading anyway. Staying up with the scientific community was more important than whatever show won an Emmy. I read as much as I could about aerodynamics, the aerospace industry, and the latest in robotics. If it gave me even the slightest edge in the real world, I’d take it. And I needed it.
The small kitchen and three-quarters bath took up the back half of the apartment. I would’ve loved a full bath tub. That was the only downfall of the apartment. Paige had thought it was too small. She wanted me to room with her at the student apartments on the other side of campus. I loved her, but I didn’t want to have a roomie anymore. I’d seen far too much of Jayce, and the feeling was mutual. If we’d gotten an apartment together, he would’ve been around all the time. It had worried me that she’d get upset, but she understood and found someone else to room with.
I wanted privacy for once in my life. Having four older brothers and two younger ones meant there was always someone in your space. I had my own room where my brothers always had to share, but Bradley and Jacob used to sneak in and sleep on the floor. Especially this time of year. Bradley’s birthday was coming up and the anniversary of Mom’s death.
The cream paint contrasted the red brick wall. Only one picture hung by a nail that was already there when I moved in. It was taken the day my oldest brother Tony shipped out for boot camp. I was just eleven. It was the last time we’d all been together. Tony had been back a few times in the last ten years, but Nick, Adam, or Trevor had been gone. I hadn’t seen Tony in two years. We emailed, but he used his rare videochats and phone calls for Dad. I missed him so much. Tony was the one who always supported me.
When I looked at the rest of my apartment, it was clean and neat. And impersonal. Why hadn’t I ever noticed that before? There wasn’t another photo visible. Sure, I had a photo album on my bookcase, but when was the last time I looked at it? The only thing that said Liv was the pale-yellow fan quilt folded neatly on the daybed. Mom had sewn the fans, but she died before finishing the quilt. I took a sewing class during high school. After making a couple of quilts for my 4H club, I finally felt comfortable enough to finish it. I slept under it every night since. Even over winter break, I took it home.
I missed my mother, but worse yet, I barely remembered her. I was seven when she died. At first I hated Bradley. If he hadn’t been born, if Mom hadn’t gotten pregnant with him, she never would’ve died. I had blamed him, but he was so small when Dad brought him home. And he needed someone to take care of him. Dad tried, but he had to plan the funeral and go to work. My brothers were imbeciles when it came to babies. Taking care of Bradley and Jacob fell on my shoulders.
The tea kettle whistled, ripping me out of memories I didn’t want to face before an interview. I’d managed to kill two hours cleaning. The baseboards shone and the grout in the bathroom was spotless. I still had three hours to go. After showering, I took my mug and settled onto the daybed with my quilt to read Fundamentals of Thermodynamics.
My phone dinged with a new email from DMiller. I didn’t need to let him get into my head, but I was curious. I opened it.
Good luck. My lunch offer still stands.
I marked it as spam and sent it to the trash. Getting this job wasn’t about luck. And I was going to prove that to him.
Chapter Seven
JenCar’s plant sat on the north edge of Madison, away from the hipster shopping district, away from Westland, and on the opposite side of town as the hospital. Most of the manufacturing done at the local plant was small parts for single-engine aircraft. JenCar’s main plant in San Diego was where the magic happened. That’s where the planes were built. I knew everything there was to know about the company. Even down to the number of employees in each plant.
I hoped that knowledge would help me get this internship. If they didn’t have a candidate they felt embodied the JenCar way, then they wouldn’t hire anyone. It had been a year since they had an intern. I was determined to change that. Competition was so tight that it had been six years since they hired more than one intern a semester. It didn’t help knowing Devon was interviewing. His GPA was near identical to mine, plus his father worked there. I’d need to stand out more.
My nerves shook as I downshifted my ancient Chevy S-10 and parked in one of the visitor spots. Even the parking lot was pristine. Three flag poles circled around a dry fountain in front of the main building. The manufacturing plant took up four football fields behind the offices, not that I could see them from the front. I had studied this company since I moved to Madison. JenCar was one of the reasons I wanted to go to Westland. They hired locally. Even if they didn’t bring on a student as an intern, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t hire them after graduation. The majority of JenCar’s engineering department came from Westland. And several had moved on to other locations around the world.
The lobby looked more like a fancy hotel than a major company. Four white leather couches circled around a cherry coffee table, issues of Popular Mechanics fanned out across the top. A man in a suit sat on one of the couches and two in the others, but I didn’t take the time to really look at any of them.
“Can I help you?” a perky brunette with too-dark lipstick asked. She sat behind a large desk that doubled as a counter. It filled the back center of the lobby.
I smiled politely as I glanced at the space she occupied. Three office chairs, two of which were empty, rolled on each side of her. There were two computers but one had three monitors. “I’m Olivia Dawson. I have a ten o’clock.”
She glanced at the screen in front of her. “Oh yes. With Mr. Anderson.” She stood, barely getting any taller, and pointed at the clipboard on the counter. “Please sign in here.” Her hand slid a plastic name badge that read “Visitor.” “Please attach this to your shirt. Mr. Anderson will be with you shortly.”
I signed my name as neatly as possible without making it look like an autograph, unlike the name above mine. Two other names stood out: John Harding and Tim Moore. They were seniors who I’d had a few classes with but didn’t really know. I clipped the visitor badge onto the lapel of my only suit jacket.
<
br /> Before I left for winter break, Paige and I went shopping for this day. She wanted me to buy an olive suit jacket with a matching skirt. It was great, but out of my price range. Instead I bought a powersuit: black suit jacket with thin gray pinstripes tailored to my curvy frame, simple black dress pants hemmed for my short height, and a light-gray satin button-down shirt. Adding to the ensemble was a black-and-silver flower pin. I finished the look with black pumps, not too high but not too low, either. The final product was fashionable without fashion and no nonsense. It was definitely what I hoped JenCar looked for in an intern. Being a woman in a male-dominated field was hard enough. One misstep either way, and I’d fail. That wasn’t an option.
I’d pulled my long brown hair into a bun and opted to forgo contacts for my smart black frames. My vision wasn’t as bad as my older brother’s at least. Adam couldn’t even wear contacts.
The only thing I could do was wait and project the confidence I didn’t feel. My nerves rattled every inch of my skin. I’d left my phone in my truck. My father always complained about people being on their phones when he tried to talk to them about their cars. He liked to personally connect with the clients whenever he could. More than half of my time with him over break was listening to him complain about how people cared more about their cell phones than about one another. It started when I answered a text at dinner. Apparently he’d implemented a rule I wasn’t aware of. We had to put our phones in the center of the table. The first person to check it had to do the dishes.
I turned around and faced the couches. John and Tim sat together on one side, quietly talking. Devon Miller sat opposite of them and had his head down, focused on his phone. He’d been on my mind too much lately. I was still reeling a little from the way he asked me out. Then he dropped the interview bomb on me.
His head shot up as if he knew I was watching him. Devon’s hazel eyes met mine. His gaze turned into a panty-dropping smolder and suddenly I felt naked and exposed in the lobby of my dream job. This was not good. Devon could’ve screwed any girl he wanted that night. Not that he slept with every girl who came his way. His reputation wasn’t to be a ladies’ man. He wanted people to respect him, look up to him, admire him. Both on the baseball field and in the classroom. That we had in common.
“Olivia, how nice to see you,” he said, slipping his phone into the inner pocket of his jacket. His voice had a distinct chill. It was the sound of a politician, not an engineer. He was in his element here, and I wasn’t just any woman. “I didn’t realize the competition would be so…easy.”
I sat on a different couch where I could see the door behind the receptionist. “To lose to? Yes, you should learn to lose gracefully.” I smiled as I faced him. “Or you could just concede.”
Devon snorted. I smiled wider. Snorting was undignified, especially for Devon. He narrowed his eyes. “Play ball? With you? I’m out of your league.”
“What’re you getting at? Subtlety has never been your strong suit.” I checked my cuticles, pretending to be bored with the entire conversation. Devon was trying to rile me up before the interview. I couldn’t let him. I needed this.
“You know it, or you wouldn’t have run from my room,” he said, sitting back against the couch.
“Yet I turned down your lunch offer.” I grinned. He took his dickery to a new level. This interview meant more to me than to him. Knocking me off my game plan wouldn’t score any points. This had to be a direct result of my rejection. “Seems like I’m out of your league.”
The door opened and Rex Anderson stepped through, bringing both of us to our feet. John and Tim joined us. My legs shook. Not just from the interview but from Devon’s complete one-eighty. Despite my outward confidence, I wanted to bolt from the room, from the possibility of getting what I wanted. Everything I worked for was within my reach. If I landed this internship, the chances of getting hired after graduation skyrocketed.
Devon Miller was the only thing that stood in my way. But why he waited until now to go for an internship was a mystery. His father could’ve gotten him in anytime. Why wait? Maybe that’s why he came to me the night of the party. To get inside my head so he would get hired. Distract me from my goals, my mission to work at JenCar. This entire time he was working toward screwing me over. That was the only explanation.
“Mr. Miller, Ms. Dawson, Mr. Harding, Mr. Moore.” Rex Anderson nodded as he walked toward us. He was just over six feet tall with more salt than pepper in his thinning hair. It was the Armani suit and the confidence in his walk that showed he was a man of power and not some lackey. Of course, we knew who he was the minute he strolled into the lobby.
“Welcome to JenCar.” He shook our hands. I made sure mine was as strong as a man’s without feeling like I was trying too hard. My older brother Nick taught me how to execute a proper handshake, show strength and confidence in just one grip to make a great first impression. Mr. Anderson didn’t smile as he assessed us with a single glance. “Please follow me. We’ll tour the plant as we talk about the duties of an intern at JenCar and what may be expected of you.”
Mr. Anderson turned on his heel and disappeared behind the same door he’d come out of. I started to follow him until Devon snuck in front of me.
Over his shoulder, he grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “I found some white panties under my bed. Are you missing a pair?”
I froze. My feet didn’t want to move. My brain didn’t want to fire. My mouth was the only thing that wanted to function, but shouting “what is your problem” toward Devon’s back wasn’t the best idea.
He glanced over his shoulder as he got closer to the door Mr. Anderson had long disappeared behind. “Coming, slugger?”
That rat bastard. Whatever had happened between us was just another play in his game. He’d used me. He’d had this planned out for weeks. I was willing to bet he knew I was going to get an interview and he wanted to make sure I failed just so he could win.
I was going to kill him.
I hurried to catch up to them, holding my head high despite wanting to hide it in the dirt. I needed to forget about the party. I needed to bury my anger. I needed to put my best foot forward—not in my mouth. If only I succeeded at any of those.
“Ms. Dawson, tell me what you know about JenCar,” Mr. Anderson said as he strolled through a well-lit hallway with his hands behind his back. He didn’t even look at any of us.
“JenCar is the forerunner in modern aerodynamics,” I said automatically. It was such a standard answer and it sounded robotic coming out of my mouth. I started to add something clever, but Devon jumped in.
“I read, sir, that JenCar had recently perfected a new compressor that works with better efficiency.” Devon raised his eyebrow, knowing damned good and well that I had read that article, too.
“True, Mr. Miller. In fact”—Mr. Anderson turned slightly to face Devon—“that work began in this plant. JenCar’s pushing new heights, if you will, with jet propulsion systems. We’re also working on making aircraft more fuel efficient.” He faced forward again and began to detail the history of the company. All of which I knew by heart. “Our engineers work hard to push the boundaries of aviation technology. As candidates for the internship, we’d expect you to learn every aspect of being an engineer at JenCar.”
I must have grinned like a schoolgirl, because Mr. Anderson cocked his head to the left and studied me for a moment. Forcing the smile from my face was much harder than I anticipated.
“Ms. Dawson, what would you hope to accomplish at JenCar?”
“Um…” My mind had never been so empty in my life.
“Swing for the fences,” Devon muttered under his breath, loud enough for me but not for Mr. Anderson to hear.
Heat filled my cheeks. “I…uh…I’ve been an admirer of the company for years,” I finally stuttered out. Admirer? As in secret? If I could’ve facepalmed, I would have. “I mean,” I tried again, “JenCar has always been breaking ground in aviation and thermodynamics. I’d love to learn more
by application rather than learning in the classroom.”
Thermodynamics hit a high level beneath my skin, working hard to turn my normal olive complexion into lava red.
Mr. Anderson twisted toward Devon, clearly seeking his answer.
Devon smiled as if they were old friends. “Well, Mr. Anderson, like Ms. Dawson, I’d like to put my knowledge to use by applying the modern techniques in the fast-changing field. I’d also like to learn from the best engineers in the world that work in this facility. I believe they can help me focus my future by sharing their experiences so I can better help companies like JenCar in the future.”
Mr. Anderson nodded once, no indication whether Devon’s answer impressed him. Personally I wanted to kick him. That was what I should’ve said. His father probably coached him. Mr. Anderson moved on to John then Tim who both echoed my sentiments and added their own insights, which were so much better prepared than mine.
And it went downhill from there. Mr. Anderson asked a question, I’d stumble over it, and Devon would shine like polished coal. John and Tim appeared knowledgeable and highly intelligent to my bumbling idiot. I hated Devon more by the minute, but I hated myself worse. I knew what to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Nothing sounded even slightly normal. In fact, I sounded more like a JenCar groupie than an actual intern candidate.
By the time Mr. Anderson led us back to the lobby an hour later, I’d all but given up on trying to sound intelligent. Coherent was going to have to do.
“Mr. Miller, Ms. Dawson, Mr. Harding, Mr. Moore,” Mr. Anderson said as he again shook our hands. This time mine felt limp in his strong grip. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. We’ll be in touch.”
“It was nice to meet you, too,” Devon said, smiling broadly. He’d nailed it. And he knew it.
