I’m in a part of town I’ve never been to, and I’m not sure I’m in the right place. Flipping down my visor, I check myself in the mirror and smooth out the stray hairs around my face, tucking them behind my ears. After reapplying my lipstick and making sure everything seems to be in place, I grab my purse and get out of my car.

The recording studio is located on the twentieth floor of a shiny, new office building just east of downtown, where the sun burns bright against the silver and blue steel and glass shooting into the sky. I’m a few minutes early, so I take my notebook out of my purse and check the address one last time. I’m in the right place, but it’s not what I envisioned. I assumed the podcast was run out one of the academic buildings at the community college, but I guess they don’t have the technology to have a fully-functioning recording studio, and need to rent out space here.

After informing the front desk of my arrival and making my way to the twentieth floor, the elevator deposits me in a sleek, modern hallway with glass double doors leading to a reception desk. I pass through the doors uneasily, but I try everything to make myself look calm, and sure, and like I know what the hell I’m doing. I’ve never had a real job before. I suppose this isn’t a real job as it’s just an internship, but it’s something I really want. It’s something I really need.

Once inside, I’m greeted by the receptionist, a tall, young man with a faux-hawk, a short-sleeved black t-shirt, and gauges in his ears, stretching out his earlobes to epic proportions. I walk toward him, and he looks up from his computer and smiles.

“Can I help you?” he asks brightly. He isn’t much older than me and his kind smile reassures me. “Here for the interview?”

I adjust my purse on my shoulder and step forward. “Yes,” I say. “My name’s Sara Montgomery. I have an interview for one of the internships at the podcast. I think I might actually be a few minutes early.”

“No worries,” he says. “Take a seat and I’ll tell Ryan you’re here.”

The waiting area overlooks the city and the edges of the outer sprawl of the surrounding suburbs, and the view is breathtaking. High up in the sky, I feel if I get too close to windows, to the edge of this safe space, I might tumble and fall and not be able to catch myself. The view is so incredible that I’m distracted and nearly miss how strangely the waiting area is decorated. Instead of the austere sleekness I would expect from a media outlet or the mahogany and tight-lipped reverence I’m used to seeing inside the towers of academia, I sink down into a bright pink, plush oversized couch and a few beauty magazines fanned out on a low, black marble table.

I need this internship, although it wouldn’t have been my first choice. I need to get keep my GPA up during my last semester of college, and I thought taking on an internship for the small stipend and credit hours in place of an additional class would be perfect - I’d get some valuable experience under my belt, and I’d be able to buy gas and lunch without dipping into my meager bank account.

The way this space is decorated is so odd, though. Between the electric pink sofa and the framed poster on the wall next to me detailing the anatomy of the male and female genitalia, I’m starting to feel a pink blush sweep across my cheeks. I cross my legs and try to get cozy, realizing there’s something I like about being here. The flip in my stomach, the nervous heat - it all feels good. It makes me feel a little bit more alive, more present.

And that’s exactly what I need - to feel more. More of anything. I’ve been in an absolute funk since my senior year of high school. It’s just me and dad, and I’ve been supporting myself since I moved out and started college. Being financially connected to dad meant that I wouldn’t be able to get much in the way of college grants and student loans. Turns out that being middle-class means you don’t qualify for much aid, but that being able to afford college without aid is nearly impossible.

“Sara?” I hear my name from down the hall and spot the receptionist waving to me. Quickly picking up my notebook and purse, I make my way cautiously down the hall, through a narrow corridor past the front desk, a few offices, and the empty glass-enclosed recording booth.

Matt and I stop when we get to a sun-soaked corner office with clear glass walls. I don’t look past Matt to the man sitting inside, but I can see a blurry suggestion of him out of the corner of my eye and my breath hitches in my throat.

“This is the boss’ office,” Matt says, gesturing behind him. “He can tend to be a little bit intimidating, but don’t be nervous. He’s a really nice guy.” Matt knocks on the door and a deep voice on the other side of it tells us to come in. “This is Sara. She’s here to interview with you. Need anything else?”

I stand behind Matt and wait to be called forward into Ryan’s office.

“No, we’re all set. Come in, Sara.” His voice is pure and smooth, deep and warm, making my knees go weak.

I step forward into his office - it’s also not what I expected. Large windows on the back wall open up to a panoramic view of Los Angeles, and the floor is covered with dark wooden slats. Where I thought there would a wall lined with bookcases of medical journals and science texts is a poster of Howard Stern. And where I thought there would be a copy of The Origin of Species is, instead, a plaster penis.

My would-be boss turns around from the window slowly, smiling and putting his hand out. He sits down as I shake his hand in a completely professional manner, but I feel anything but professional.

“Sara, it’s so nice to meet you.” He sits down in his big rolling leather chair and I take a seat across from him. “You have a very interesting resume.”

I draw my breath in as I contemplate whether I’ve met this man before. He’s stunningly sexy, with dark eyes and a chiseled jaw. He looks familiar, and I try to place him. I know I’ve seen him before, but I don’t know why I’d have a reason to be in the same room with him. He is walking, talking sex. But I don’t know where I know him from, and I decide I don’t know him at all. He’s just an impossibly sexy man sitting across from me in this fabulous office, and our paths haven’t crossed - until now.

“Did Matt offer you anything?” he asks, throwing a sexy smirk to me.

“I’m okay,” I say quickly. “This is a very nice office. I’m so excited to be interviewing here.”

I try to keep my tone upbeat, even though inside my stomach is churning into a bundle of nerves. And the fact that the man across the desk from me is gorgeous is not helping.

“You are?” Ryan says, his voice dripping with incredulity. “From what I read on your resume, I'm surprised you want to work here. So I guess first I want to know why you want this internship.”

I clear my throat. I knew this question might come up. I don’t have any experience in media, but I still think I’d be a good fit for the show. I have all of the credentials they’re looking for in knowledge of the subject. Plus, I’ve rehearsed answers to every question that I could think of, but the boss is making me feel a little woozy.

“As you can see on my resume, I’m a senior in college, majoring in Biology. I am very interested in science, and more important than that, I’m looking for experience in a field where I will use my degree but be able to learn new skills. Podcasts are an emerging field of media, and I think it would be exciting to get in and learn from the ground up. That’s why I want the internship, sir.”

I smile and exhale as Ryan takes me in with his piercing eyes, sending steady warmth through my body. I’m pretty sure I nailed it, but Ryan purses his lips, nodding slowly before tossing his pen on the desk. He spins around in his chair and faces away from me, and I start to get that pit in my stomach where I know something’s wrong, but I don’t know why.

Maybe I should have exhibited more knowledge of the show. Maybe I should have said more about my very small amount of work experience. Maybe this guy is used to having his ass kissed and I should have said something about how fabulous he is.

“And why should I choose you over someone else with more direct experience?” Ryan gets up, interlocking his fingers and putting his hands behind his head. The muscles in his shoulders and back flex, and I can’t help but let my eyes linger down his body to his ass. I feel a smile play across my face and I try to be serious, knowing that he doesn’t seem happy about my answer, but he’s just too delicious to stop staring.

“Um, that’s a good question. Well, I’m eager to learn. I don’t have any experience with podcasts, but I pick things up very quickly and I think I have an excellent background with the material you cover in the show.”

“The material,” he chuckles. His voice flips up at the end, almost like he’s halfway between asking a question and making a statement. “Maybe I can give you a little quiz to get a sense of how you would tackle some of the material on the show. To see if you’d be a good fit. Because you look good on paper, I have to give you that much. But an internship like this requires something more. I want to make sure you can tackle whatever’s thrown your way.” Ryan turns and paces back over, putting his hands down flat on his desk, looking at me intently. “This morning, we had a caller who wanted advice because his girlfriend wants a breast reduction. He’s afraid he won’t be as attracted to her if she gets the surgery, but he wants what’s best for her. What do you think?”

Ryan sits down across from me again and I look down at my lap, avoiding his eyes. It’s a strange question, but I have an answer.

“I think if he dumps her over this she would be lucky to be rid of him.”

He leans back in his chair and looks at me contemplatively. His expression is infuriating - I can’t tell if he’s making fun of me in his head or if he agrees with me. He does this little thing with his finger, where he drags it down the middle of his lip, tapping a few times. If he is trying to throw me off my game and distract me, it’s not going to work.

“Really,” he says.

“Yeah,” I continue. “I understand that looks are a big part of what initially attracts someone to a person, but if he can’t get past it, then he doesn’t deserve her.”

“Interesting.”

“You disagree?” I ask, fidgeting with my notebook in my lap.

“Not at all. I happen to completely agree with you. But in this business, sometimes people just tell the callers what they think they want to hear. I don’t agree with that way of doing things. Do you?”

“No, sir. I think if someone asks for advice, you should give it to them. People are most likely going to do what they want anyway, but it’s the advice-giver’s responsibility to be honest, isn’t it?”

Ryan laughs and puts his hands on his head. “You’re good at this. You gunning for my job?”

I blush and laugh a little. “No, sir. I’m not qualified to do what you do. I’m still in school. Where did you get your doctorate again?”

He smirks and flashes me a sexy grin. A flip inside my stomach goes to my head when his eyes meet mine across the table. If I get this internship, I might be in deep trouble.