Page 34 of The Interns

“Why do you even bother with a jacket and tie when you always end up like this?”

Reed looked down at his outfit. “Trying to fit in as a city boy, I guess.” He shrugged then picked up a menu and started skimming it. He really had no idea what he was doing to her. It was so wrong of him.

“So what’s good here?”

“The burger.” She plucked the menu out of his hands and put it down on the bar. “Don’t bother with anything else.”

“Oh yeah?”

There was a playfulness about him tonight, like he wanted to start something with her, and she just so happened to be in a good mood, too, thanks to a great day of making progress on their case.

“Oh yeah,” she said certainly. “When have I ever been wrong?”

His smile deepened, like he was rearing up to come back with something that would knock her off her stool, but a tap on his shoulder broke his momentum.

“Sorry, what did you say was good here?” Dev asked as he leaned forward, trying to see around Reed.

“Sorry.” Maya chided herself for her poor manners and allowing herself to get distracted. “The burger,” she said loudly. “So how do you two know each other?” she asked, making a point to be more inclusive.

“That’s hard to say. Everyone just kind of knows each other where we’re from,” Dev answered. “I think it was kindergarten, though?”

Reed turned to Maya and shared, “Dev and his wife own the bar I mentioned the other day.”

“Oh, right,” she said quietly.

“You own a bar?” Syd asked, trying to rejoin the conversation. “That makes me feel like an underachiever.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. It was more of a family investment,” he explained humbly. “How do you two know each other?” he asked, nodding at Maya and Sydney.

“Junior high. We rode the same bus, and we were on student council together. She was president and I was V.P.,” she said proudly as she squeezed Maya’s shoulder.

“Well, that makes perfect sense,” Reed mused quietly out of the corner of his smirking mouth.

“Like you even know,” she shot back.

“You really wanna go there?” he asked.

Syd sighed loudly behind her, causing Maya to spin around to see her picking up her drink and sliding off the stool. She reached out and grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?” “Gonna go sit with Dev,” she said with a tight, knowing smile. “Talk baseball.”

Shit. Maya released her arm and tried to be cool. “Okay.” Shit, shit, shit.

In the vacuum that was their work life, they could be themselves, whatever that was, and she could tell herself whatever she wanted to about their relationship. Now that they had been exposed, it would be harder to maintain her delusions about what was or wasn’t going on between them. She came here to work, not make friends. That was the plan, at least, but in less than two weeks, she had failed miserably. So were they co-workers? Yes. Friends? She took a deep breath and glanced at him, smiling as he chatted with Dev and Syd. Sure, but maybe more friendly than actual friends.

Friendly co-workers and not a thing more. That was the new plan.

13

Maya

Summer was flying by. They were over halfway through their associateship, and their final day was just three weeks away. The thrill of discovery and the high of breaking the case had faded, which meant less gallivanting around the Atlanta area and more time at their desks being students of the law. That’s not to say it was boring, though. It was anything but.

Maya had taken a shine to the litigation side of the Johnson case, being on the front lines and sparring with the opposing counsel, a local lawyer named Jonas Hill who happened to be even more of a scumbag than his client. Reed was more than happy to stay out of the line of fire and work on Johnson’s patent application which, to be honest, had to be him because while she had picked up some plumbing knowledge, he had a natural aptitude for it which was imperative for navigating the process. Professionally speaking, they were pretty much the perfect team. The Dream Team as Mr. King liked to say.

“I grabbed a Diet Coke and some trail mix for you.”

She looked away from her computer screen to find him walking back into their office and toward her desk to drop off an afternoon pick-me-up.

Socially speaking, things weren’t so bad either. They’d developed their own little routine. She’d make coffee for them in the mornings since his first few attempts at using the fancy espresso machine in the breakroom had resulted in stained shirts, first degree burns, and an out of order sign that earned him a demerit from Miss Patti. She didn’t understand how he could navigate the intricacies of plumbing, but not a simple machine, to which he’d mumble something about how simple things should be simple. In return, he had started delivering snacks in the afternoon.

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