Chapter 16 #2
Being here isn’t just thrilling, it’s addictive. For the first time in forever, I’m not performing for approval. I’m performing for myself. And I’m good at it.
When Friday afternoon finally rolls around, I’m in the middle of gathering my things when Ben saunters over, wearing his signature smile.
“I don’t know about you, Piper, but I could do with a drink.”
“Or ten,” Alice jokes from her desk.
As much as I like Alice and Ben, I would have preferred to celebrate with Lena, but she’s going on a date she’s been talking about all week. “Let’s do it,” I agree, slinging my bag over my shoulder.
Together, we leave Blackwood and head to a place Ben knows. It’s not too far away, so we walk through the crowded streets. Foggy Bottom is always busy, but it’s nothing like Friday afternoon at 4 p.m. when everyone wants to get home.
The bar is all deep shadows and gleaming surfaces, the kind of place where secrets cling to the walls like cigarette smoke.
“If you grab a table, I’ll get the drinks,” Ben offers.
Alice and I both agree, listing off our drinks of choice before snatching up a table near the windows. When Ben joins us, he’s eyeing Alice’s Dirty Martini with a scowl like it’s offending him.
“God, I hate olives,” he says, taking the empty seat next to her.
She grins. “Careful, Ben. Saying things like that makes you sound uncultured,” she volleys, removing the olive from the cocktail stick with her teeth.
I reach for my drink, a French 75. “To surviving our first week,” I say cheerily.
We clink our glasses before each taking a large swig.
“I can’t believe we made it through,” Alice says, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. “I keep feeling like I’m going to wake up and find out it was all a dream.”
“Are you staying here in D.C.?” I ask. I can’t imagine she’s flying back and forth every day.
Nodding, she confirms she’s staying at a flat she’s rented. “I only have to show up in Boston a few times a month, so it was easier moving here temporarily,” she explains.
We talk about the thrill we’re all experiencing when we walk into Blackwood each morning, of being taken seriously. While Alice and I continue to talk about the internship, Ben disappears to get more drinks.
“It feels good to do something more real than just reading the words in textbooks,” I agree when she’s told me about a task she completed just before we left for the weekend.
“And I haven’t tripped or spilled coffee on myself a single time yet. ” Her words tumble out in a giddy rush, like she’s been holding back those fears all week.
I guess that’s how we all feel, and there’s something nice about being here with people who truly understand the pressure.
We have a few more drinks, but it doesn’t take more than a couple of hours before I start feeling like the third wheel. Ben’s been flirting with Alice almost since we arrived. It’s not that I’m jealous, but there’s something over-the-top about his antics.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I use the app to text my Blackwood-provided driver to let him know I’m ready to leave.
Then I drain the last of my wine—I switched to red somewhere around the third drink, hoping for warmth, but all it gave me was a headache—and stand, smoothing my skirt with a quiet breath.
“I should probably head out,” I murmur, not loud enough to interrupt, but just enough to be heard.
Alice blinks up at me, slightly dazed, cheeks flushed from the martini and maybe Ben’s attention. “Already?”
I nod, giving her a crooked smile as I tug on my coat. “Yeah, I’ve got to put in a few hours on my school work this weekend or I’ll end up finishing everything the night before it’s due. And no one wants to read whatever that version would be.”
Ben laughs, warm and easy, raising his glass in mock salute. “To deadlines we’ll never meet.”
“Are you okay?” I ask Alice, not liking how slowly she’s talking, or the far-away look in her eyes.
“She’s fine,” Ben smiles, moving closer to her. “But I’ll keep an eye on her.”
When Alice nods, confirming she’s happy to stay with Ben, I check my phone. There’s a notification waiting for me, telling me that my driver’s here. I pause, thumb hovering for just a second, before I slide my phone into my bag.
“Hey,” I say casually, voice low, “are you guys good? Are your drivers waiting?”
Alice frowns. “A driver?”
“Yeah. I mean, one of the company cars?” I glance between them. “Mine’s already outside.”
Ben shakes his head, looking genuinely confused. “Nope. Pretty sure interns don’t get that level of love.”
“I took the Metro,” Alice adds in that slow and almost robotic tone she’s used since the third drink. “Didn’t realize we could expense rides.”
My smile flickers. “Huh. Weird. Maybe it was just for onboarding or something.”
I offer a soft goodbye and slip outside, the late evening air clinging damp to my skin as I spot the car waiting at the curb, engine idling, lights already on. I climb into the vehicle without a word, and before I can se ttle, we’re moving.
The city blurs past my window, all lights and shifting color. Meanwhile, I try not to overthink the driver situation. Is this what you get for blowing the owner?
“Hey, can I ask you a question?”
The driver meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Go ahead, Miss.”
Swallowing thickly, I ask, “Do all interns get a driver?”
His answering laughter is sharp. “Definitely not.”