Page 10 of Her Savior
Six
“…And over here is your desk,” the HR lady shows me to my desk. It’s hidden in a small nook where I’m not visible to anyone and I have a feeling that’s intentional. I guess they are playing Hide the Negro here.
When I arrived to the firm, I found out there’s six of us, three girls and three guys, and we intern on set days. I learned I’ll be there Mondays and Wednesdays.
After a mandatory video on sexual harassment and a brief overview of the legal firm, the HR head showed us around the monstrous campus. Even though it’s located in the middle of Downtown L.A., it seems to be in its own world. It has a coffee store, a full-service dining area, a gym, and even a meditation room.
I guess if you’re a high-powered lawyer, you might need to clear your mind every now and then.
“I’ll have IT get you set up. I strongly ask that you don’t use the internet for anything other than checking email. The lawyers here are going to keep you plenty busy so I doubt you’ll be able to do much more than that.” She instructs. “Do you have any questions?”
I have a ton but I don’t think any of them would be remotely appropriate, so I’m going to keep it cute and mute. “Not really.”
“Very well,” she gives me a tight smile, at least I hope it’s a smile. “Enjoy your first day.” She quickly leaves.
Just like that, I’m on my own. I sit down at my desk and look around. It’s just a basic desk with the computer, speakers, and some notepads. I open and close various drawers to see if there’s anything in there. It’s completely bare. Awesome. I guess I’ll be making my way to the supply room.
I leave a small note on my desk letting anyone know I’ll be back in a few minutes and that I was in the supply room. I gather my key fob and temporary ID badge and trudge my way clear across the big-ass floor to get supplies.
I quickly turn the corner and run into a brick wall of a man, who promptly knocks me on my ass. I promptly check to see if the wig is secured on my head and it is. Whew!
I struggle to get up when I feel the softest hands help me. “Are you okay?”
I felt him before I saw him. As I glanced up, I saw the most beautiful brown eyes looking down at me.
He was a tall white man, well over six feet, with chiseled cheekbones, a muscular, lean body, and a stature that said he was not to be fucked with. He had a silent, yet exquisite masculinity about him. Take him or leave him. No negotiation.
The energy shifted between us, and my brain felt scattered. As he helped me up, I became more aware of his power, his magnetism, his scent of earth and rain. He was dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit, yet he owned the design, as if he was custom-made.
His eyes bore into me and my mouth felt drier than the Sahara. My heartbeat quickened to a staccato beat and my breath was struggling to keep up. He was a young man, not my age, but probably younger than 30.
“Are you okay, Keisha?” He asks.
He knew my name. I didn’t know his. Hell, I didn’t know who the hell he was. “Um, yeah…” I manage to say. “…I’m fine…” I tried to search his face for some sort of remembrance of who he was. I had no clue.
“I’m glad,” he smiles and I see perfect white teeth. No grills. No bling. Just a great orthodontist. “I hope you enjoy your first day here.” He smiles again and rejoins his group.
I turn around and watch Mr. Man leave. He knows me yet I have no idea who he is. But his stature said I will get to know him very soon.
~~~~~~
As my day wrapped up, I occasionally thought about Mr. Man. I didn’t see him for the rest of the day so maybe he was a visitor. But it made no sense. Why would a visitor know my name and specifically, know it was my first day?
It doesn’t matter. I kept myself busy learning about some of the cases I’ll be helping the other lawyers with and jotting down notes. I was excited to finally have real world experience by interning at a legal firm.
It was already nighttime by the time my day ended and the time change still fucks me up. I’m still trying to get used to the sky being damn-near pitch black when it’s only 5:30. I don’t know if it’s climate change but I do know it’s bullshit.
As I walk in the parking garage and head to my car, I notice a Bentley SUV slow down beside me and the windows roll down.
It’s Mr. Man.
“Keisha,” he smiles again and I feel weak in the knees, “how was your first day?”
“It was good,” I nod, becoming more aware of my surroundings. Other people are in the garage and heading home, but it still feels awfully strange to talk to someone who I still don’t know who he is and how he knows me.
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m glad to hear when anyone has a good day here.” He nods. “Take care now. See you on Wednesday.” He takes off.
I stand dumbfounded in the middle of the garage. Who was he? And how did he know my schedule?
