Bad Intern by Luke Mason

Author:Luke Mason [Mason, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-31T22:00:00+00:00

Seven

Okay, now I’m impressed: Pete does work out, and apparently he does all the exercises right. Not overly bulky like a roided-up meathead, but still seriously ripped. I’m talking abs, abs, abs. Nice shoulders, too, and no love handles or belly flub. My eyes follow the veins that spider across his shoulders and chest. He has the perfect amount of hair—just enough to know he’s a man and not a gorilla.

Pete looks a little uncomfortable standing there naked in only his socks. He manages uncomfortable rather well. More tolerable than when he’s smugly needling me.

“Well, well,” I say, smiling archly before turning on my heel and strolling into another office. I don’t ask him to follow, I simply expect it.

The walls of this office are covered in pictures and posters of cats, kittens, and even tigers. Kitty cat figurines crowd a fancy-looking hardwood desk. In case we didn’t know it already, a row of wooden blocks with letters reads, “I LOVE CATS.”

Going by the kitty-cat coffee mug with the lipstick smudge, Director Ellis is a lady director. I know her name because, unlike the exec with the sailboats and booze drawer, her name’s on a placard outside, rather than just a room number.

Good for you, sister, I think approvingly. You exist, and don’t let them forget it.

I bump into Pete on the way out. Again, my conscience is poking me. Not about Pete, thankfully. The booze took care of that. But I can’t poke through Director Ellis’s office, whoever she is. I like cats too.

I take a sip from my magic bottle. I’m feeling very, very good right now.

“Where you going?” Pete says, peeking past me into Director Ellis’s office. He’s got his clothes and mine collected in a bundle under his arm.

“You mean where are we going,” I say, stalling for time.

Come on, Jen, where the fuck are we going?

Swaying past him, I brush his semi-hard along the way and let it snap back like a branch in a forest. I strut confidently past the various cubes: the dev team, the project managers, the guys with all the sci-fi shit everywhere. Those guys are weird, but cool. Sys-admins, if I remember right. Most of them look married or undateable. I like them because, of all the guys on the floor, these are the only ones that don’t hang around the front desk trying to get the bimbots’ attention.

Pete clears his throat, and I pause at the break room.

“Wait,” he says. “We can’t just walk around naked. What if someone comes to work?”

I glance back at him and snort. “On the weekend? Trust me, Pete. We’re the only ones stupid enough to fall for that. We’re just having fun. Where’s my old Pete gone to, hmm?”

Something in him changes when I say that: a steely glint in his eyes, a tightening of his jaw, and he stands a little taller. When he smiles, it’s just a little bit vicious, and I briefly wonder what’s come over my little boy toy. Whatever it is, I approve.

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