Oakley
“Mr. Mayer?” My assistant asks for the third time, finally forcing me to look away from the window and give her my attention. I don’t have time for whatever it is she is bothering me with, but it’s impossible to find anyone with any sense for the position.
“What is it?” I ask with irritation. I can’t quite recall her name, Susan or Selena or something. It doesn’t matter, I just need her to spit out whatever it is and leave me alone.
“Um, you have a meeting, sir. About the internships. It, um, started about twenty minutes ago,” she informs me. I roll my eyes. This is what she is bothering me for? A bunch of journalism students working for credit?
“And what was it they wanted?” I groan. I am under too much stress for this. Hasn’t she been watching the fucking news? Does she really think I have time for useless shit like this?
“Um, their internships are up sir, we had promised them permanent positions based on performance. But none of the qualifying participants have received their offer letter yet. They are speaking to Aaron, the department head, but you said you wanted to sign off on any new positions. The meeting is with him,” she explains. What a waste of my time.
“They’re journalists, right? Have him open up a tip jar for them, on the website,” I answer before looking back at the window. “If they are any good, people will pay them to keep working.” I can’t think about that right now. It’s not safe to think about that right now. Doesn’t she know people have died? My friends have died, and she is here talking about interns?
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Sir?” she asks and I snap my eyes back to her. “I don’t think that will bridge the–” I slam my hand on the desk.
“If that and what we have already done for them isn’t enough, tell him to fire them. We are a family here. We don’t need entitled scum like that trying to leech off of us. We can always get more interns. I’m done talking about this. Get out,” I order. I am done with this. Does she not know what ‘chief executive officer’ means? My life is at stake and she wants me to worry about nobodies. Once they catch that psycho bitch it might be time to look into replacing her as well. If I could risk letting anyone new near me right now, she would already be gone.
“Yes sir,” she agrees, before turning to leave.
“Wait,” I stop her, one thought coming to mind. She pauses and turns back to me. “That one intern, James or something. Keep an eye on him and let me know where he ends up. I like his stuff; I’d like to keep reading it.”
“... Yes sir,” she agrees. That pause seals her fate. Once it is safe, I am definitely replacing her. It disgusts me that I have to even wait this long but… I do. Once it’s safe. And it will be safe again. I’ll make sure of it. I am not prey, I am the predator. I will not be hunted. I will not be the latest name on the news. The latest casualty the uninformed masses cheer for. No. I will make a fucking example out of this woman, whoever she is, who think she can make me fear her. Interns. Who has time for a meeting about intern pay? People’s actual lives are on the line here. Fuck her interns.