“Showing you an eyeful?” Malcolm added.
So the guys were aware that Yvette had a thing for the interns. Apparently, each of them has also been subjected to Yvette’s wandering eyes, invasion of personal space, and cleavage flaunting. We joked a little bit about it, and I made the comment that she was probably starved for attention at home.
“All she’s got to do is go upstairs for attention,” Malcolm said and shrugged.
“She can just shut her husband’s door and get on her knees or bend over his big desk,” Mike chuckled.
I cocked my head to the side and asked if her husband worked here too.
“Dude, her husband is Mark Hull,” Chase informed me.
My eyebrows shot up. This was good info for me to know. Mark was high up at Evans Financial, and I didn’t want to piss anyone off.
“She’d probably walk in on him banging his secretary, or some other hot pussy up there,” Jeff commented.
“Third floor is where it’s at, Riley. Do you have a girlfriend?” Chase asked.
I shook my head.
“Evans Financial has some of the hottest women,” Malcolm said in a mocking voice as if his statement was part of a commercial.
“Or guys,” Mike said and then he held his hands up in defense. “No judgment here.”
I laughed along with them. I wasn’t interested in men or women, for that matter. Just one person had held my interest since I could remember—Griffin.
“I had no idea she is married to Mark Hull,” I admitted, circling back to that news.
“There are tons of married couples who work here,” Mike offered up the information.
From where I was sitting, I could see the parking lot and most of the walking path that went from the parking lot to the front of the building. While we ate lunch, each time a car pulled into the parking lot, I’d glance to see if it was Griffin.
As we walked into the building, the nerves began to kick up in my stomach. While we waited for the elevator, I pulled out my cell phone to check the time. I still had almost twenty-five minutes before my meeting with Griffin. Mindlessly, I messed around on my phone while the other guys talked about their plans for the weekend. Behind me, I could hear that annoying sound of the bottom of the door scraping over the doormat, and without looking up, I took a step closer to the wall of elevators.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Evans.” The receptionist’s words were like a bucket of ice being dumped over me.
“Afternoon,” Griffin said as he hung back by her desk with another man that he had gone to lunch with.
All of the interns greeted him in some fashion while I stood there completely frozen for the moment. Griffin’s black dress pants, polished shoes, and a flawless white button-down shirt made up his impeccable Friday dress casual attire. I decided that he must have his shirts made custom because of the way the fabric accentuated his chest and biceps. His shirt just seemed to fit him.
“Afternoon, boys,” the other man greeted us as the bell announced the arrival of the elevator. He looked at me for a moment and then stepped forward and introduced himself. “Hello, I’m Randall Foles, operations manager.”
“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Randall. I’m Riley Tucker, the new intern,” I responded, hoping that saying my name out loud might ring a bell with Griffin.
“He’s also my 1:30 appointment, Randall. Don’t mess with him,” Griffin joked as we all entered the elevator. “Not yet, at least,” Griffin said as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. When Griffin folded his arms across his chest, the motion pulled the fabric of his shirt over his muscled arms, and I tried so hard not to let my eyes wander. Unfortunately, though, there was no indication that he remembered me at all. My heart leapt when I saw his eyes drop to my chest.
“Nice sweater,” Griffin commented as the elevator stopped on the second floor.
“Thank you, sir,” I said before exiting the elevator behind the other interns.
Just a short time later, I found myself back in the elevator heading up to the third floor. The third floor had its own receptionist, and she seemed to know who I was and what I was there for. She placed a call to Griffin’s secretary, Stacey, and within a couple of minutes, I was following Stacey back to Griffin’s office. Stacey made polite chitchat with me as she led me back, and she welcomed me to the family of Evans Financial. Griffin’s tall mahogany door was open, and I followed Stacey into his empty office. It stuck out to me right away that all of the wood furniture in his office matched the wood door.
“Please have a seat, Riley. Mr. Evans will be right in.” Stacey gestured to a black leather wingback chair in front of Griffin’s desk.
I sat still and tried to calm myself down. After the surprise meeting in the lobby and elevator, my thoughts still weren’t under control. Glancing at Griffin’s desk, I could tell he was just as tidy and organized as I remembered. Perhaps, even more so now. A long credenza spanned the length of the wall behind his desk and sitting proudly on top of it was his diploma from the University of Michigan. Just like mine. An expensive Monte Blanc pen lay parallel to a logo notepad in the center of his desk. Everything had a spot or purpose, and nothing was out of place.
“Riley, thank you for meeting with me today.” Griffin’s deep voice carried from the office door as soon as he walked through it.
I stood and turned to face him as he shut the door and walked briskly toward me. He held out his hand toward me and shook my hand firmly. His dark five o’clock shadow matched his slicked-back dark brown hair perfectly.
“Thank you for hiring me for the internship, Mr. Evans,” I said and then sat down as soon as he did.
Come on,
