AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Miles glares over his shoulder at me, and I say, “A briefcase, Miles. He’s twenty. Come on!”
The next four candidates have everything on paper you could want; great GPA’s, stellar experience at previous internships and glowing recommendations, but they aren’t any different from Blaine who graced my office earlier with his tailored suit and custom briefcase. I could pick from any of them and I’m sure they would do a great job. In an industry that is dominated by men with fancy educations, I’m looking for something different.
“Wyatt Bloom, this is Lake Kennedy,” Miles introduces me to the young woman who extends her hand to shake mine before sitting.
“Wyatt?” I ask. “As in Wyatt Earp?” I peer at her over my reading glasses.
“I guess my parents took to Arizona a bit too much,” she says nervously, and I try to give her a comforting smile.
Her suit jacket is draped over her arm, exposing a satiny camisole underneath with sweat stains evident under her armpits. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a low bun, and she gazes at me with nervous brown eyes.
She notices my scrutiny and says, “Sorry, it’s just so hot outside and I hate wearing these things.”
I hold up my hand to stop her from putting the jacket back on. “Not necessary,” I say.
She takes a seat, crossing her legs demurely, and fanning out her pleated skirt.
“So, Wyatt, why are you here?” I sit back in my chair, pulling my glasses off and playing with the arm.
She looks confused. “Oh, um, isn’t this the interview for the internship in the Finance department?”
“You’re quick, but I asked youwhyyou’re here.”
She straightens up, as if she’s trying to get her bearings. “I’ll be starting my last year at Barrett Honors at ASU in Finance, and…”
I hold my hand up for her to stop. Her mouth remains open, but no sound comes out.
“Let’s start over,” I say, standing up and walking to the front of my desk. I lean on the corner and grip the edge. “Why finance, and whythisinternship?”
I’ve read her résumé which tells me nothing of her character or her personality. Not that you needpersonalityin Finance, which is proved by some of the men I work with, namely Lewis in legal. If I must spend time with someone for the better part of my day, then I reserve the right to be particular about whom I chose.
She looks at me confused, as if she’s trying to figure out what it is she thinks I want to hear.
“There’s no right or wrong answer here,” I reassure her.
Furrowing her eyebrows, she blurts, “That’s not true.” I tilt my head urging her to continue, intrigued. “If I say I want this internship at Zentech because Finance is my passion and I want to be a part of a growing business so that I can grow along with it, well, then,” she stops to take a breath, “I’m just like every other candidate telling you what it is you want to hear.”
“Then what’s the real answer?” I ask, giving her a comforting smile. “The one they train younotto say in interviews.”
“I grew up in a middle-class family in Glendale. My mom is an elementary school teacher, and my dad sells cars,” Wyatt explains, her brows furrowed in concentration as if she’s contemplating what it is she’s willing to admit. “I don’t want to be middle class.”
I move from my spot on the edge of the desk and re-take my seat, crossing my legs as I lean back.
“You can make a lot of money in this business,” I agree.
“Look, Zentech would be a great company to intern at. I have a feeling I could learn a lot from you,” she says coyly. “Not to mention you’re a woman.”
“I am.”
“What I mean is, I know there’s a disparaging number of women executives, especially in Finance. I’d rather work here than at a company who doesn’t value me.”
“And you think at Zentech you’d be valued?” I ask, picking up my pen and twirling it in my hand.
“I hope so,” she crosses and uncrosses her legs, playing nervously with the pleating of her skirt.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask.
She pinches her eyebrows together in confusion. “I don’t think…”
