Draco was situated in a unique castle-shaped glass structure lined with mirrored windows from the ground up. I liked the design, as it reflected the company’s mission—to provide a complete fantasy environment as the backdrop for its game. Inside was bright and airy with tall ceilings and an open-space floor plan divided by department. After entering the foyer, decorated with elaborate displays from the games Draco produced, I walked through my old division. Only a handful of the marketing people were there at this hour. There was no one I really knew, and most especially not the other interns, who usually slid in the front door a few minutes before the start of business.
I shook my head at the thought. They’d all been very good-natured but visibly envious of my new appointment. It felt good to be the subject of their admiration.
Usually it was me trying so hard to fit in that I went along with whatever the herd did. Especially Cari, the self-appointed leader of the group. Fortunately, she was nice to me, likely because my daddy was richer than hers.
Not that I really cared about that. I would have preferred a less-rich dad who’d spent more time with me and didn’t foist me off on my narcissistic mother. But people like Cari cared about that sort of thing, so I’d had an in.
The trick was all in the appearance of belonging, because I was never “in” anywhere. Social chameleon, always changing to blend into the scenery. That was me. But chameleons had a major flaw—they didn’t stand out. And in business, particularly in this new position, I would have to do exactly that. Make a name for myself so I could receive that coveted recommendation.
I pushed through the double doors that led to the wide atrium in front of the offices for the company executives. It, too, was quiet except for another intern assistant—the nerdy guy who worked for the CEO of the company, ultra-beautiful boy wonder, Adam Drake. Adam, like my new boss and most of the other officers of the company, was young, driven and mega successful from the start. At my age, he was already heading his own start-up company, which, within four years would become a multimillion-dollar business well on its way to going public. Hearing about his accomplishments often made me feel like a slacker.
“Hey, Charlie,” I said, stopping at his desk.
“Uh, actually it’s Charles,” he corrected, straightening his black hipster glasses on his nose.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I think I’ve been calling you the wrong name for months.”
He shrugged, sliding a slow gaze over my chest. I folded my arms to cover my breasts. The thought of being exposed in the video for all to see was still shaking me to my core. Every time it threatened to jump to the forefront, I had to put my head down and concentrate on the now. It was almost impossible to do.
Charles finally remembered where my eyes were. “It happens. But I figured since you’re going to be working up here for a while, best to set you straight now.”
I glanced in the direction of the CFO’s office. “Is, um, Mr. Fawkes in yet?”
Jordan Fawkes, my new boss, was even younger than Adam and had partnered with him to create the company. It was strange that I’d be more intimidated by them than if they were older, perhaps because their wild success served as a reminder of my own inadequacies.
Charles smiled condescendingly. “First off, none of the officers go by anything but their first names. It’s all casual here. And business casual dress,” he said with a pointed look at my smart skirt and sweater set.
I shifted where I stood and pushed my long hair back from my shoulder. “It’s the first day. There’s no such thing as making too good an impression,” I said, murmuring one of my ever-present aphorisms. I pinned quotes and truisms from my books all over bulletin boards and on sticky notes stuck to my computer monitor and bathroom mirror. They helped. They were like guideposts. My books were the mentors I’d never had in my parents.
“Anyway, Jordan usually gets here early, but since it’s the Monday after Comic-Con, you’d be doing yourself a favor to avoid him before noon. He’ll probably send you out to get his lunch for him. I have his standing Subway order.”
I tried not to scowl. Of course I said nothing, because in situations like this, I knew it was better to never show irritation or any other negative emotion. Grin and bear it.
But lunch errands? I wasn’t aiming to be a diner waitress. I needed good, solid business experience to write about in my admission essay. And I’d heard that Jordan Fawkes was a shrewd and savvy businessman. Word on the street was that the company owed as much of its success to him as it did to the CEO’s ingenuity at programming and virtual innovation.