The bench I sat on was surprisingly comfortable, but then again, the padding on it was deeper than the couch in the apartment I shared with my BFF, Sam Wilkins. Although that shouldn’t have been surprising – the lobby itself was one of the most luxurious I had ever seen.

It looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel, like the one I stayed in with my dad when I was twelve after I won a business essay competition. He’d been excited by the people we would get to meet over the weekend, but I was taken by the opulence.

But this time was different. Instead of taking in the beauty, I was scrolling through a Google search to find caterers who would work on short notice. Or no notice, really. A few hours probably wasn’t enough time to get a crew together, pre-cook the food and bring it all into the middle of the city.

I was going to find one, though. Even if it killed me.

When I’d found ten likely candidates, I started making the calls. I had always enjoyed talking on the phone so I was hoping to sweet talk my way into speaking directly to the managers of each company. The ones who cared about making money much more than an employee who simply wanted to finish a simple shift.

By the third call, my hopes were almost completely dashed. One of the people I spoke to laughed loudly when I told him what time he needed to be here, and another asked if it was a practical joke. None of them were going to put me through to their bosses

The only bright side was that they were hanging up on me quickly, which left time to call more of them. Except that it seemed to mean only more rejections.

“I’m sorry,” one woman said, a sympathetic tone to her voice. “I wish we could help, hon, but we’re booked out. Have you considered calling a pizza shop? They usually work faster.”

I nearly laughed at that one. Somehow, I didn’t think Devon Carell and those he would meet with were going to accept pizza. Especially not pizza that wasn’t made by a Michelin star chef.

No, I was going to have to find the kind of food I imagined he was used to.

And I was going to have to do it quickly, or I would find myself having a horrible conversation with my dad. Just thinking about that made the tears prick at my eyes.

Dad wasn’t the kind of man to show much emotion, but he had almost cried when I told him the internship was mine. He made some kind of cryptic comment about his career finally being worth something, but he wouldn’t explain what that meant.

That was hardly surprising, though. Dad didn’t like talking about his career much, even though I asked him all the time. He was the reason I loved business, and I was dying to know more about his time as CEO of a number of small companies through the years.

“Hello?”

The sound of a woman’s voice dragged me out of my thoughts and into the present. “Hi,” I beamed, plastering on a big smile and trying to talk like I was madly in love with this woman I didn’t know. I was trying a different tactic. “I’ve been tasked with catering a very important business meeting, and I was hoping to speak to the owner of your company.”

The new tactic involved not giving any details to the frontline staff so they wouldn’t be able to laugh at me before I spoke to the owner. It was a Hail Mary pass at best.

“Yes, that’s me,” the woman said.

I sat bolt upright, suddenly realizing I didn’t know what to say once I got to the owner. I had to think quickly. “Oh, great, good to meet you.” I paused, and she didn’t fill the silence. I was losing her.

“Okay, so I’m wondering if you would be able to help me out of a serious predicament. The catering company we booked has pulled out, and we need to find catering for some very important people.”

“That’s fine, we do that all the time. Has the date of the meeting been set yet?”

Shit, I thought. The only reason she was still talking to me was because I hadn’t given her the important piece of information yet. Shit.

“Umm, well, that’s the problem. They cancelled on us without much notice.”

“Okay, when is it?”

I paused again, trying to figure how best to break the news. She laughed suddenly. “Oh, don’t worry dear, we’ve catered for fifty people at a few days’ notice before. You won’t shock me.”

“It’s today. Lunch time.”

Silence. Painful silence that told me I was very close to failing the man of my dreams. This was number ten on my list, and my next step was to admit defeat.

I didn’t like to admit defeat.

“Today? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. I’m sorry, I know it’s really short notice, but –“

“That’s an understatement.”

“I know it will probably be extremely difficult for you, but I promise we can make it worth your while. It’s for Pristine Group, and they – well, we – have a lot of catered meetings. If you come through, maybe we could have you as our main caterer.”

I felt horrible for lying, but I had no choice. This internship wasn’t slipping through my fingers.

Besides, it wasn’t the worst lie in the world. Maybe I could convince Devon that this particular company was worth getting the main catering position. And that it was worth creating a main caterer position.

“That’s great and all, but I don’t know if it’s actually possible. Most of my staff don’t even start until midday, and we’d have to do a lot of preparation.”

“The food doesn’t have to be great.” I pressed the palm of my hand against my forehead. I couldn’t believe I’d said that.

“Our food is always great,” she said, obviously offended. “Which is why it takes time. It definitely needs to be today, though? I’ve known lots of companies to push back meetings with fake excuses.”

I could pull a fire alarm, I thought, looking around for the nearest one. Don’t be so stupid, Nicole.

“Pristine Group is a very big company. I’m sure that if you impress Devon Carell he’ll repay you by telling his friends.”

Did CEOs even have friends? And if so, did they often talk about a caterer coming to their rescue at short notice?

The woman sighed, and I felt a faint glimmer of hope. “How many people are going to be there?”

I closed my eyes and threw my head back silently. Instead of asking Devon where I was working from, perhaps I should have asked that particular question. Or, you know, any of the others this woman was likely to ask me. “Twenty.”

“Wow, that’s a big meeting.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” I was never a good liar.

Silence descended again, but now that I was this close, I wasn’t giving up. I felt like I was capable of marching to her office and dragging her to this building, catering van and all. “You know, a friend of mine is currently working as an intern for a food magazine. She mentioned that she’s been asked to research the latest lunch crazes, and maybe I could have her call you for information. If she used anything you said, she’d have to mention your business.”

It was only a little white lie. My former classmate, Simone, was interning at a food magazine, and she would have to mention the name of anyone she got a comment from, but she hadn’t said anything about researching lunch crazes. Still, maybe it would be a good story for her to write.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do. It’ll cost you, though. I’ll be paying a crazy amount of overtime.”

“That’s fine,” I said, trying not to giggle. I only hoped the bill would be acceptable, but then Devon hadn’t mentioned anything about cost.

And as a business man, he would surely know that desperate customers paid more.

We spent another few minutes exchanging details, and I had to come up with a lot of answers on the spot. There were more important questions I hadn’t asked, but I was kind of confident my made up answers would be enough.

If they weren’t, well… I had succeeded, at least.

I glanced at my watch as I gathered my things and walked toward the security desk, but what I saw made my smile disappear quickly. 10:58.

I had two minutes to get to wherever I had to go.

The security guard didn’t even look up as he tossed a pass onto the desk in front of him. “Thirty-second floor,” he said.

I snatched it off the desk and ran toward the elevators as fast as my heels would allow. Hitting the elevator button, I really hoped I hadn’t ruined my chances at this internship by being late. Again.

That would be a little ironic. I was set a task because I was late, and then I was late completing the task.

But even the somewhat slow movements of the elevator weren’t going to dampen my spirits. I had turned an impossible task into a win, and that gave me a confidence boost I didn’t expect. If I could convince a caterer to cater a large meeting in less than two hours, I could do anything.

Well, anything Devon could throw at me.

The elevator doors opened, and I walked briskly to the reception desk directly in front of them. Behind it sat an older, serious-looking woman, who glanced up at me with a soft smile. Well, kind of. It could have been some kind of grimace.

“Hi,” I said, my voice a little more bubbly than it probably should have been in a business environment. “I’m Nicole Blythe, and I’m – “

“Did you get the caterers?”

“Yes, I did.”

Tearing a page out of my notebook, I handed it to her. She dropped it on her desk without so much as a quick look, and then glanced up at me again. The way she stared into my eyes was unnerving, like she was trying to read my mind.

“You’re smiling like you think Devon’s going to give you a medal. He’s not.”

“Of course not,” I spluttered. “I know that. I don’t want one.”

“Good. Because you won’t get a lot of praise around here, believe me. I’ve seen a lot of interns come and go, especially now that they’re doing this once-a-year executive internship. The only one who made it to the end was Daniel. The others were all chewed up and spat out.”

“That won’t be me,” I said, my voice failing me. “I mean, I hope it won’t be. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to stay yet. Devon just told me to get the catering.”

“Oh, that’s right, he said to tell you that if you arranged for the lunch, you could have one more chance. If you still want it, I’ll show you to your office.” Her cold voice implied that I may as well quit now instead of delaying the inevitable.

“Of course, I want it,” I said, almost screaming the answer.

What was it with people telling me I either shouldn’t or couldn’t do this internship? My friends in business school said that, as did a professor. Sometimes, it felt like I was the only one who believed in me.

“Then come with me,” she said, standing from her chair and walking away from me down the hall. She was rather fast for a lady of her age.

I followed, clutching my bag tightly in this new environment. The lobby’s opulence had been out of this world, but this floor seemed to be so normal. The carpet looked new and clean, and the paint on the walls didn’t have a mark on it, but it wasn’t like the lobby.

When the receptionist stopped and reached a key out toward a door, I almost stopped and asked if she had the right door. A sign on the brown wood told me it was a cleaning closet, and I wasn’t here to be a cleaner. Unless this was some kind of Karate Kid moment. Wax on, wax off.

“Don’t be fooled by the sign,” she said, reading my thoughts as she pushed the door open. “It’s the only vacant room on this floor, so it’s your office. Enjoy.”

She reached in and flicked a switch, bathing the room in light. Well, maybe not bathing it in light – more like, giving it a tiny amount of non-darkness. The bare bulb hanging from the ceiling certainly looked like it had been around for a long time.

“And I’m Maureen,” she said, turning and heading back toward her desk. “You’ll find me in the contacts list on the phone on your desk.”

“Thanks,” I said, not taking my eyes off my new “office”.

“But don’t call me. I don’t have time.”

Friendly.

Stepping into the office, I became aware of a musky smell. The room was filled by a small filing cabinet, a desk and a computer, leaving little room for anything else.

It was cramped, dark and smelly, and I should’ve hated it, but instead, I couldn’t help but smile. It was my office. My office at Pristine Group.

Nicole Blythe’s office at Pristine Group. Call me at my office, I thought to myself, holding back a giggle.

I walked around the desk, running my finger along the cheap wood and picking up more dust than was probably safe. But it didn’t matter – it was my dust. Kind of.

Sitting in my chair, I turned toward the computer and noticed a post-it note on the bottom of the monitor. It had a username and password written on it, along with a note that read: “Check your email.”

I hit the power button, listening as the ancient computer whirred into life. Warm air flew out of it and onto my cold, bare legs, and I figured that was a bonus for winter. Perhaps not in summer, but that was a while away.

With a little luck, I would still be here then. Maybe even in an office hadn’t started life as a home for mops and brooms.

When the computer finished booting up, I opened the email client and waited a few seconds for it to open. As it did, I watched the emails come in, each labelled: “To: Nicole Blythe”.

I could have giggled again.

Before I could click on one, a name jumped out at me on the most recently displayed one: “From: Devon Carell ([email protected]pristine.com)”.

As soon as I clicked it, my heart began to race. I remembered Maureen telling me about the lack of praise at Pristine Group, but part of me hoped there would be some. Surely, after landing a caterer at such short notice, I would get something.

It seemed to take forever to open, but when it finally did I leaned forward to read it intently. It was short.

“Nicole,

If you’re reading this, congratulations. You have one more chance.

Your next task is to go to the junior marketers meeting on the 14^th floor. It starts at 11:15, and I want you to take notes.

Devon.”

I glanced at the clock on the bottom right of the screen: 11:10. Shit, I thought, grabbing my bag and rifling through it for the notepad I had used when I was looking for caterers.

When I found it, I jumped out of my chair and left my office in a hurry. As I closed the door behind me, a slight smile spread across my face.

I was under pressure, but that was fine because I was in. I was the newest intern at Pristine Group, and I was about to do something important. Useful, even.

Sure, attending a marketing meeting wasn’t what I expected to be doing, but I figured there would be a reason for it. After all, Devon was known for producing some of the best brains in business, and he wouldn’t own that reputation if he didn’t know what he was doing.

And if this was another test, I was going to pass it.

Devon Carell was going to be impressed with me whether he liked it or not.