Foto bij 803. - Lucien

Between still celebrating that we're engaged to be married, planning not one but two weddings and also keeping the whole thing a secret from the outside world, it's easy to forget that I have an internship to survive. But the first day finally rolls around, and for the first time in a while I have an alarm set at five fifteen in the morning to get ready. Emma moans miserably when it rings, and I kiss her on the cheek with a soft chuckle. "You've still got forty-five minutes."
Her nose wrinkles and she pulls the covers a little higher. "And I'm going to be taking it."
She's probably back asleep by the time I get into the shower and I desperately wish that I could join her. It's just eight weeks, four days a week. I tell myself. By the time Emma's birthday rolls around, it'll be over and done with.
I'm probably making the whole thing bigger in my head anyway, too used to lawyers looking down on me like they did when I still joined my father at the office and I was seen as nothing but a disappointment - especially with Aleran also being there. I'm older now, and wiser, with a lot more experience. I know what I'm doing, and what I'm doing it for.
Just a few weeks.
The shower does little to calm my nerves, and neither does getting dressed. If anything, it makes things worse. The suit looms on the bed of the guest room, where I put it last night so I wouldn't have to bother Emma while putting it on. I haven't worn a suit for work-purposes in a really long time, and it feels like stepping into a different part of myself. It's a part I like and enjoy, but also a part that I've grown unfamiliar with. I haven't worn a suit for work-related events in two years. And while it causes my nerves to flare up a thousand-fold, it also sparks some excitement. This is, after all, still a part of me, and I'm good at it, too. Because, stubborn as he might be, my father wouldn't have made me CEO if he didn't truly believe I could do it.
With renewed faith in myself I leave the guest-room go to make myself breakfast, only to find Emma already in the kitchen. She's wearing her robe and looking half asleep, but she offers me a steaming cup of hot coffee with a crooked smile.
"What happened to those forty-five minutes?"
"I figured I'd better use them to give you some emotional support." She smiles. "God, I forgot how good you look in a suit."
"Well, you're going to be seeing a lot more of it." I smirk, putting down my coffee that is still too hot to drink so that I can make my regular smoothie breakfast, only to find that everything is already cut up and waiting for me in the blender.
"There's also last night's left over pasta salad already in your briefcase." Emma rubs her eyes. "I know you wanted to keep it for tonight but I have a feeling we'll both more feel like ordering in."
"You..." Words are lost on me for a second, and I chuckle. "Come here." Emma immediately moves into my arms when I beckon her over, and I wrap my arms tightly around her as I kiss the top of her head. "You're absolutely wonderful. Thank you."
"Of course." She mutters against my chest, though I notice her trying to keep a little distance so she doesn't wrinkle my suit. "Are you sure you're still up for visiting Pollokshields Burgh afterwards?"
"Absolutely." I promise her. "If all those wedding websites are telling me anything, is that your date and your venue are your first two priorities..."
"See you there, then?"
"Yeah, I'll call you when I'm done. I've got no clue when they'll let me go."
"Don't rush them. Better make a good first impression."
"I make nothing but good first impressions." I chuckle and she laughs, shaking her head.
"I need to hit the shower, or I'm going to be late myself. Let me know how it's going, okay?"
I nod, and lean down for a kiss before she wishes me luck one more time and then disappears to the bathroom. It gives the whole morning an extremely domestic feeling, as if we're two regular adults with their entire life sorted out, and I'm not yet sure how I feel about that.

I enter the parking garage without trouble with the tag that was sent to my home and suddenly I'm surrounded by expensive-looking and expensive-being cars. As I head inside, it becomes only more apparent that this isn't some small law firm, but that it definitely runs with the big boys. In the interview they showed no signs of recognising my name, but I realise it's almost impossible that they haven't heard of my father. I'm not yet sure if that's good or bad.
"Good morning." The receptionist offers me a bright smile. I smile back at her and head towards the elevators. Eleventh floor. I'm reminded of all the times I rode the elevator at my father's firm, all the way up to the twenty-fifth floor. This is different. The most I'll be allowed to do is get coffee for some hot shots and when I get their orders right, my bosses will tell them my name. That is just the faith of an intern. The lowest of the low. Credentials don't matter much yet. The internship would've looked good on my resume if I was still twenty-two and needed to make a name for myself. I haven't made a resume since high school.
The office smelled the same way my last one did. The bustle of people feels the same. It's all so familiar it almost feels like coming home. Maybe it won't be so bad after all.
I get the tour. They tell me how they work, which doesn't differ much from other firms.
And then, my new boss pats me on the back with a chuckle when we get to the small kitchen with a fancy looking coffee machine. "Your first assignment is learning how this beauty works... The big boys need a lot of coffee, and they're picky on how its made."
I laugh with him.
Eight weeks. Just eight weeks.

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