I get to sit at a table with my closest friends, on the most rewarding night of my life, because my hard work got me here. Kindness did the rest.
“If you don’t get the award,” Billie whispers over our large table, half-heartedly clapping her hands for the man on stage. “I’m going to get up and cause a ruckus.”
“No, you won’t.” Locke spits through closed teeth, staring down at her over the rim of his glasses.
They continue to slip down his nose, and he only fixes them when they’re close to falling off his face.
“I’ll cause one too.” Derek chimes in, and Liliana groans.
“We barely got into the dinner, and you want to risk getting kicked out?”
“For Rosie?” Blonde hair swooshes when she tips her head comically, arms crossed over chest. “Yes.”
I stifle a laugh behind my hand. There’s no need for anyone to cause a ruckus now, or any time during dinner. The Promising Young Mind Award is essentially a participation award for the Brookstone intern. It’s just to welcome them into the company, before formally starting their role after winter break. It literally cannot go to anyone else.
I explained this to everyone days ago. Still, half the table mumbles under their breath that my name better be called.
According to the event’s pamphlet, we don’t have to wait very long. The award Billie is ready to fight to the death for is coming up soon.
“Princess,” Locke whispers to me, his left hand finding mine under the table and interlocking them together.
I feel the cold metal of his watch press against my wrist. The “R” engraved into it is just as prominent as the first day he pointed it out. But, just for safe measure, I check every morning when he kisses me awake, and every night before we drift to sleep.
Leaning over, my partner whispers into my ear so only we can hear.
“After the awards are over, when they start passing out dessert, grab your coat and follow me to the exit, okay?”
My forehead creases. I’m sure I’ve heard him right, but I can’t decipher why he wants to leave so early into the night.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.” He squeezes my hand under the table and smiles. “Just want to do something really quick. We’ll come right back.”
My mind goes to one place instantly, but I know it can’t be that. Locke and I are more adventurous than most people when it comes to our sex lives, but I know what’s totally off-limits. Neither of us would want to get down and dirty at a company dinner.
I’m about to ask him what he’s hiding in that brilliant mind of his, but the voice booming over the speakers captures my attention instead.
“And last but not least, our Promising Young Mind Award.”
Michael stands there, one hand behind his back and the other gripping the microphone confidently. Like he was there the whole time, although I’m sure there was a formal announcer taking the stage up until this very moment.
“Xion introduced this award soon after establishing our highly coveted internship with Brookstone University, to highlight how impressive the minds from their financial engineering program truly are. And although each and every one of them have gone on to forge a path in this industry—and maybe I’m biased—but I don’t think this award has been so well-suited to a recipient until tonight.
“At Xion Group, we’ve always prided ourselves on being the best and striving for more. Yet, when this impressive graduate student graced our offices, I was shocked. I didn’t know such ambition was possible for someone so early on in their career.But Ms. Rosie Mendoza…” I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath the entire time, or that I’ve been gripping onto Locke’s hand impossibly hard during every word. “Has exceeded every expectation we could’ve had for our quantitative analyst internship. How lucky are we, to have such a promising young mind in our presence. Aside from her impressive background and talents, personally, I’d like to thank Ms. Mendoza.”
The most powerful man in the room sets his shoulders back, tilts his head, and looks straight at me. “It wasn’t until her interview that we realized how many other promising young minds must be out there, from communities who don’t get the same opportunities as others. I am ashamed to admit that despite our many years of collaboration with Brookstone University, Ms. Mendoza is our first female, first-generation, and child of immigrant quantitative analyst intern.”
I swallow the large lump in my throat. The realization is heavy, both on my heart and in the air around the room, and it causes a cloud of emotion to engulf me.
A tear drops finds its way onto the black satin of my dress. I don’t make a move to wipe it away. These emotions are valid, and this tear is earned.
Michael nods at me and repeats himself.
“Ms. Mendoza is our first female, first-generation, and child of immigrant quantitative analyst intern. But she certainly won’t be our last.”
There’s a roar of applause. Chairs scraping across the floor when people begin to stand. First, my friends, then the women around the room, then everyone else. Everyone clapping and cheering for me. Some of these people must have been working at this company longer than I’ve been alive.
In this moment, they all give their respect to me. I stand up tall and smile, wide and unapologetic. It’s nice to have everyoneacknowledge my talents. It’s sweeter knowing this praise is just a plus—not a need.
