Chapter 4Intern Thinks I Am Her Driver

Monday morning. 8:50 AM.

I pulled my SUV into my usual spot, but I didn't head for the private elevator. I walked toward the main entrance.

Brianna was already there, leaning against the glass doors with her arms crossed. Standing next to her was a man in his early thirties wearing a suit that cost more than he could afford and an expression that suggested he’d just smelled something foul. His badge read: Rick Dalton, Director of Human Resources.

The moment Brianna spotted me, she pointed a manicured finger. "That’s him, Rick! That’s the guy."

Rick stepped forward, looking me up and down with practiced disdain. I was still in my "low-profile" gear—jeans, a plain black tee, and a rugged canvas jacket.

"So, you’re the tech from the floor who’s been harassing my cousin?" Rick asked. His voice was oily. "Who hired you anyway? I don't recognize your face, and I see every file that comes through this building."

"I keep a low profile," I said simply.

Brianna smirked, her eyes gleaming with malice. "See, Rick? He’s probably some temp who snuck in through the back door. He’s probably not even in the system. You should kick him out right now."

Rick chuckled, tilting his head back. "A ghost in the machine, huh? No wonder you don't know how things work around here." He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial, threatening whisper. "Look, I’m feeling generous. You’ve been driving Brianna for a month, so I’m willing to let you keep your job. But there are conditions."

I raised an eyebrow. "Conditions?"

"One: An 'administrative processing fee' of fifty thousand dollars. Cash or wire to my private account. Otherwise, I’ll find a reason to have you escorted out by security for trespassing."

"Two: You are Brianna’s personal driver. Morning, evening, and weekends. You do whatever she says, whenever she says it."

"Three: You owe us for the 'emotional distress' you caused this weekend. Call it fifteen thousand for the club tab, the Uber she had to take, and the sleep she lost crying about your attitude. That’s sixty-five thousand total. You want to pay by Venmo, or should I give you my routing number?"