a list of previous sponsors on your desk. Sometimes companies will donate their products to get exposure. Feel free to call any of these sponsors and or companies you feel would benefit from an opening like ours. I imagine the value of each gift bag will range between five thousand and ten thousand dollars when it’s all said and done.” He rises from his chair and walks to the door. “I’m heading out for the rest of the day. I want you to work on the gifts. I’ll meet you here on Monday at eight o’clock so we can take a ride to Ahz. Have a great weekend, Kat.”
I feel overwhelmed with the major undertaking he assigned. Sitting in front of me is a list of over one hundred sponsors, from Tiffany’s to Oakley. I look over the various companies and place stars next to the places that make sense. I want these gift bags to mean something. Anything having to do with dining, music, entertainment, or food stays. I place all other products on a secondary list. Companies like Tiffany’s and Pandora stay on a maybe list. They may have items that fit in with the theme, like a cool charm or key chain. I’ll contact them if I need anything additional for the bags. Within an hour, I have reduced the list to fifty potential companies.
Two hours later, I have placed calls to twenty-seven of them. Seven have guaranteed a donation, and I’ll follow up with the rest on Monday. I’d love it if I didn’t have to spend anything on the gift bags. If I could get everything donated, I could save the company a hundred thousand dollars. It’s probably a pittance to a corporation as large as Noble Enterprises, but I’d feel a great sense of accomplishment if I could do that. It would also look great on my resume.
Clocking out for the day, I take the stairs to the garage. I try to avoid places where I might run into Damon, and since his offices are on the top floor, I imagine he takes the elevator each day. Five flights of stairs several days a week will give me a good workout, as well as keep me out of sight.
“Hey, Kat. How was your first real day at work?” Em calls from the kitchen as I walk in the front door. Something smells amazing, and I hope she’s made enough for two.
“It was so good. Trevor is a great guy. He was thorough and made me feel comfortable.” I inch toward the stove to see what’s in the pot she’s stirring. “I avoided Damon, so that’s a plus.”
“Will you ever tell him you’re interning at his company?”
“Not if I can help it. I don’t want him interfering in my experience. I don’t want to get special treatment because I know him.” I look over her shoulder. “Is that spaghetti I smell?”
“Yes, are you hungry? I made a bunch. I’m taking some to Anthony’s, but there’s plenty for you to enjoy.”
“I’m starving.” Taking a seat at the table, I watch Em finish making dinner. “Make sure Anthony says nothing to Damon. Okay?”
“I didn’t tell him you got the job.” She hands me a bowl of pasta sprinkled with parmesan cheese.
The scent of oregano and Italian spices rise with the steam. “Thanks, Em. It’s great having you home.”
She gives me a wide smile before I dig into the big bowl of happiness.
Fed and satisfied, I move to the living room and sit down on the couch with my copy of Bound. Wondering where Damon is in the book, I send him a text.
I’m trying to catch up to you. What page are you on? How is it a man as busy as you has time to read frivolous materials?
He responds immediately.
So, the beautiful Katarina is chasing me, so to speak. I’m on page one hundred and fifty. I won’t go any further so we can be on the same page for our Wednesday night meeting. Where are we going?
I think Mongolian BBQ. Will that work for you?
Can I call you? I hate texting long messages.
Yes.
Seconds later, my phone rings, and I answer with a slow, soft, “Hello, Damon.”
“Hello, Kat, how was your day?”
“It was good. You know, the same old stuff—school and work.”
“I thought you didn’t have school on Fridays?”
Oh, shit, I almost blew it and try to salvage my mistake. “No school today. Just a bunch of research.” It’s not a lie. I called a lot