The briefing ended after thirty minutes. Most of the interns were already checking their phones before she even finished speaking.
Victoria Hale closed her folder and placed it neatly into her leather portfolio. She didn't rush, but there was no wasted movement. Efficient.
I stayed in my seat, watching her.
She looked like the kind of person who didn't just run a department — she kept it standing when everyone else was falling apart. A steady hand, sharp eyes, no-nonsense.
Not someone who enjoyed babysitting interns.
The room slowly emptied. A few interns went for the free coffee in the corner, the rest drifted toward the door. I was still sitting there when she finally looked at me.
"You didn't sign the attendance sheet," she said.
Her tone was neutral, but there was weight behind it.
"I didn't?" I asked.
She nodded once toward the clipboard on the table. "It's there for a reason."
I stood, picked up the pen, and wrote M.K. Reid in the empty space. She glanced at it, gave a short nod, and went back to packing her things. No more words.
I turned to leave, but a voice called from the back of the room.
"Mr. Reid?"
A man in a beige suit walked toward me, holding a clipboard. His expression was polite, but his eyes stayed on the paper. "You've been placed under Ms. Hale's supervision."
She stopped mid-step.
"Is that correct?" she asked him.
"Yes, ma'am. Direct instruction from the top."
Her eyes moved from him to me. There was no visible reaction, but something in the air felt… heavier.
"Fine," she said. "Follow me."
I picked up my bag and walked after her.
Working directly under the Chief Operating Officer. Interesting.
---
The walk to her office was quiet.
The kind of quiet that made other people speed up their steps just to get away from it.
She didn't look back to see if I was following. She just assumed I would.
The COO's office was at the end of the floor — a glass-walled corner space with a view that stretched across half the city. Inside, everything was neat. Papers stacked in perfect lines, pens arranged in a tray, not a single thing out of place.
She stepped behind her desk, placing her portfolio down with the same precision she had in the briefing room.
I stayed by the door for a moment, looking around.
Nice office. Expensive without being loud. But the way I stood there, hands in my pockets, calm, taking it all in... I knew I didn't look like someone reporting to her. I looked like I could be the one giving orders.
Her gaze flicked to me, just for a second, like she noticed it too.
"Sit," she said, pointing to one of the chairs opposite her desk.
I took the seat, leaning back slightly, watching as she pulled out a single sheet of paper.
"You're here as part of the internship program," she began. "That means you follow my instructions exactly. You'll be assisting with ongoing projects, attending department meetings, and handling any assigned tasks on time. No delays. No excuses."
Her tone was even. Controlled.
"Do you understand?"
"Perfectly," I said.
She studied me for a moment longer than necessary before sliding the paper aside.
"Then we'll get started."