Not Nervous
Max
Why did I let Hope talk me into this? She could have had an internship anywhere in the world. I could have bought her any coffee shop chain or bookstore she wanted in the world.
Why did she have to pick an internship here?
Willow Street…The cobblestone road doesn’t resemble the place I visited more than a decade ago at all. There aren’t any rats wandering around, but there certainly are well-appointed gardens tucked in the alleyways instead.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, Hope?” I’ll take any question that might distract me from our destination, that’s getting closer by the second.
“Do you think I look alright? Maybe I should have worn something a bit more casual? Coffee shops are relaxed. They aren’t all stuffy and preppy.”
My little girl isn’t five anymore.
Don’t think about that. “You look like a person who’s taking this opportunity seriously. If—” I can’t even allow myself to think her name. “—the person that interviews you is worth their salt, they’ll recognize the respect you’re showing their business.”
“Dad, you’re so old-fashioned.”
Me old-fashioned? My company focuses on cutting-edge technology. We set the standards, and the world follows.
“It’s so pretty.”
The cream-and-black striping with touches of pink isn’t my taste, but I can see why Hope loves it.
Hope stops a few feet from the door. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“What if they don’t give me the internship?”
I’ll crush them, almost slips out of my mouth. Though that’s my first impulse, it isn’t the right one. “Their loss. You’re smart, a hard worker—” Especially when you’re trying to con me into something. “—and a wonderful person.”
“Dad.”
The little girl whine in her voice makes me smile. “You could have made your life easier, but you wanted to forge your own path, and for that, I’m proud of you, Hope Vincenti. Now, go in there and get that internship.”
It’s so wrong that a little part of my brain wants her not to get it, so I never have to come back here again. Instead of going inside, I take a seat on one of the benches across the street.
“Slumming?” Maddox strides over.
“This is hardly a slum now. You did an amazing job.” This place could be one of the nicest in Urbium outside of our neighborhood.
“To what do we owe the visit?”
“Hope. She’s inside applying for an internship at the bakery.” Why couldn’t Dahlia have a friend somewhere else? Anywhere else. I would have happily bought Hope a plane of her own to go to work every day.
“Oh really? I’m sure Fea will give her the job.”
Her name hits me hard.
“Talking about internships.”
I’ve heard that tone before. “We already have an internship program set up for kids on Willow Street.”
“Those aren’t right for this kid. He’s special.”
