16. Kyle

16

KYLE

I was sitting at my desk reviewing a proposal on my laptop. I could hear Alayna in the outer office laughing with somebody. It was a little distracting, and I was having problems focusing on the proposal. I needed to power through this and get it back to the prospective client by the end of the week. If we were invited to the next round, this could be a very lucrative project for us.

I thought about getting up to close my office door but decided to double down on my concentration. I stayed in my chair and forced myself to read the words on my laptop. I wanted to at least get through this before I stopped for lunch. The talking in the outer office quieted, and I thought I was finally going to get some good quality work done when there was a knock on my office door.

It took me a moment to realize it wasn't Alayna standing there. I had to blink a couple of times before my brain caught up with my eyes. Standing there biting her lip looking as beautiful as she ever had been was Clarissa. Her hair was down around her shoulders, and her clothes were less severe than they had been the past couple of times I had seen her. She looked like the young woman who had grabbed my attention so long ago.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I was wondering if you would be interested in letting me buy you lunch?" she asked.

I was always interested in lunch. And lunch with Clarissa seemed like a very intriguing prospect. "Lunch sounds like a good idea," I said.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," she admitted. "Is this an okay time?"

I shifted my gaze from her to the proposal on my laptop. I hit Save and closed the computer. "Now is a perfect time. I can't focus, so lunch sounds great," I said as I got to my feet.

"I'm buying, so don't expect anything fancy," she said as she walked out of the office. "It was really good to see you again," she said, pausing in front of Alayna's desk.

"You, too." Alayna gave her a smile.

As Clarissa stepped out of the office, Alayna turned to me with a ‘what the hell is going on?' kind of expression. I shrugged and shook my head. I certainly didn't know what was going on.

We didn't say much as we walked down the street.

Clarissa stopped in front of a gyro shop. "I hope this is okay," she said as she opened the door for me.

"This is great. I haven't had Greek food in ages."

"I don't know if I would necessarily call this particularly authentic, but it sure is tasty," she said.

"Trust me, compared to what I got in Hong Kong, this is Greek," I said.

"Did they have Greek food in Hong Kong?" she asked.

"They have everything in Hong Kong. It's just not what I'm used to," I admitted. "For instance, I could get pizza, but it wasn't Chicago dish pizza."

"I don't think you can get that anywhere outside of Chicago," Clarissa agreed.

"Don't get me wrong, there is great food in Hong Kong. There's nothing like Hong Kong street food."

We waited in line before carrying orange plastic lunch trays with our sandwiches and drinks over to a small table with a beat-up Formica top and old wooden chairs. I bit into my sandwich and got lost in the play of flavors over my tongue. It was amazing. It was a whole sensory experience, not just the flavor and the texture. Food could bring back memories and feelings. There was nothing quite like savory lamb and beef with cucumber sauce mixed with tangy red onion and tomatoes. After several bites, I opened my eyes and looked up at Clarissa.

She was smiling at me. "You're really enjoying that, aren't you?" she asked.

I nodded and took a drink of my pop. "I haven't had one of these for years."

We both continued to eat our lunch without any chit chat before Clarissa started talking.

"I need to ask you a question. Well, it's not exactly a question." she paused. "I've got a possible problem."

I looked at her. She was so nervous that I was concerned that if I said something I would break her seemingly fragile ability to talk. She set her sandwich down and wiped her hands on a napkin.

"Did I tell you I'm finishing my studies this semester? I already made arrangements with James to do my final internship with the Stone Group, but…" She paused. She bit her upper lip the way she did when she was thinking. "Are you going to buy the Stone Group?" she blurted out.

"I'm thinking about it. It seems like it would be a good fit and a great way to instantly get reestablished in Chicago," I admitted.

She nodded and took a deep breath. Her chest strained the fabric at the front of her blouse. "You see, I have made arrangements with James to do my internship with the Stone Group, but if you take over… I asked him what he thought about being able to complete my internship with you. He said I needed to talk to you about it."

"About your becoming my intern?"

She nodded.

"What are your expectations here?" I asked. "How long is a semester?"

"Our semesters are fifteen weeks long, and for the program, they expect me to be in an internship for ten to twelve weeks full-time."

"The last time I accepted interns, there was paperwork involved," I said.

"Yeah, but the application for the Stone Group has already been submitted and approved. I guess it depends on whether you take over completely before the end of next semester. There is an assessment you would need to fill out and turn in."

"And after the internship, then what?"

She grimaced. "I leave the Stone Group and go find a job. It's been drilled into us not to expect anything to come from the internship. Besides, it's not like James would hire me for a junior position. He doesn't have any openings, and now he's selling it all off to retire."

"Let me see if I understand this. You're going to quit being the receptionist to become an intern?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Not exactly. The thing is, because I have to work," she continued, "and since I already work for the architectural firm where I will be doing my internship, the program coordinator at the university has allowed me to do my internship with part-time hours but for a longer time— more than a single semester, so I still get the same amount of hours for the credits."

"And James is okay with that?"

"He was reluctant at first," she admitted. "But when he realized that I was going to eventually leave, he agreed to it. This way, I'm still around a little longer. I can't be a receptionist for the rest of my life. I've spent too many years working toward this degree." She was flush with excitement. Suddenly, she seemed to become shy, and she looked down at her hands. "It's taking a long time, and my career trajectory didn't go the way I planned, but I'm still just as eager and excited to become an architect as I was before…" She trailed off. She broke off a piece of her sandwich and put it in her mouth.

It seemed like she was leaving something out.

"When is this internship supposed to start? At the beginning of next semester?" I asked.

Clarissa took a sip of her drink and shook her head. "Because of my special circumstances, the internship starts just after midterms."

"And when is that?"

She bit her lip and crinkled up her nose. "In two weeks."

No wonder she was nervous.

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"I'll be the firm's receptionist part-time in the mornings, and then in the afternoons, I'll be James's intern. He's agreed to continue to pay me my full salary the entire time. If you aren't willing to work with me under the same arrangements… Well, because of our history…" she said.

I nodded in understanding.

"So, anyway, if you can't or won't, I understand. No hard feelings. But I need to know. James said he would help me find an internship with one of his colleagues and help me to find a paying one since I cannot afford to not work for a full semester at this point in my life. I have to be able to pay rent, you know?"

I waved my hand and shook my head in a stopping gesture. "You don't have to worry about any of that. You don't need to change your plans simply because the Stone Group is changing ownership. I've worked with you in the past. I'm willing to take you on as an intern again."

She let out a deep sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you. That's wonderful. Thank you," she said. "Are you finished?" She reached out for my plastic tray covered in empty sandwich wrappers.

I rattled my ice in the paper cup and took one last slurp of my pop before putting it on the tray. "All set," I said.

I waited for her at the door as she took care of our garbage.

"You know, I expected everything to be different when I return to Chicago, but it seems like everything is the same. Nothing's changed." I chuckled.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm back in Chicago after six years. The food is just as good as I remembered it, and you are still my intern."