Page 61 of No Place Like You

He smirks against my lips and nods. “I guess…good night?”

“Good night.”

He licks his lips. “Good night.”

I laugh. “You already said that.”

“I know.”

I shove my hands into his stomach. “Good night!”

“Okay, okay,” he says, lifting his hands in surrender. “Good night.”

I kiss him one last time. “Good night.”

Monday morning rolls around, and I’m on a high. I spent the weekend fully pushing away the stress of this internship out of my mind, something I hadn’t been able to do since I started, and I actually feel optimistic. I’ve put on a fresh new pair of rose-colored glasses—heart shaped ones, I might add—and things are looking up.

I start the day handling more responsibilities than I have before. Moving around v-flats and reflectors to direct lighting and deciding which models to assign specific design looks to. Managing set designs without approval from Ryan or Ivy or even Kyle. It’s a lot of responsibilities, and while it feels overwhelming and scary, it feels like an exciting kind of scary.

I’m tasked with props today in addition to set designs, so I’ve spent the better part of my morning hunting down weathered wooden chairs and plush loveseats for our boho-chic meets haute couture photoshoot to take place next week.

“Lucy, can you settle a dispute?” I look up to Ajay, another member of our intern team who’s a practical child at twenty-two years old and fresh out of college. He’s a little annoyed and flustered as he approaches my table, and I look at him, a little leery. “Min Jun doesn’t believe that my last girlfriend was a lingerie model.”

I roll my eyes, and Min Jun, another intern who I swear is Ajay’s counterpart in maturity level, throws his hands in the air next to Ajay. “See! Even Lucy doesn’t believe you.”

“Why? Is it so hard to believe that I could get a girl?—”

“Yes,” Min Jun interrupts, his deadpan look showing no amount of evidence would convince him otherwise.

I sigh, looking up from my laptop screen. “Do you have proof?”

Ajay looks at me, a little insulted, and Min Jun stands behind him with a smug grin. “Proof?”

“Yeah. Like a picture you two took together? Or a text message convo in your messages? Or maybe even an old Instagram post?”

Ajay hesitates. “We—I mean, she’s kind of a private person. And we hardly texted when we dated because we were both really busy.”

Min Jun and I share knowing glances, and Ajay huffs an exasperated sigh. “Whatever. I don’t care if you guys believe me or not.Iknow we dated.”

I smirk, watching them walk away before I return my attention to my work.

“Kyle is on a rampage,” Elaine whispers sharply, rounding the large conference style table I’m working at.

I stop mid-click on an eBay link. “Why? What happened?”

“Apparently, the brand sent over the wrong set of clothes,” she explains, tucking herself into the seat across from me. “And the set we’re preparing for next week isn’t the right design for the clothes that were sent over.”

I bury my face into my hands and resist the urge to groan. “So I’m looking for all of these props for nothing?”

Her face shifts into an apologetic look, her teeth clenched through a sympathetic frown. “Sorry.”

“I already placed an order for a step ladder and an emerald high back chair,” I whine.

“Well, it’ll be used for the shoot when they send over the right clothes.”

I grit my teeth, pushing down my frustrations through a silentit is what it is, self-soothing pep talk. “I guess,” I grumble.

“Who approved these orders?”

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