After I Paid Off My Mortgage, the Intern Tried to Ruin MeChapter 1
The department dinner had barely ended when the new intern dropped a message in the group chat. An "afternoon coffee schedule," no less, and she'd tagged me by name:
"Hey Matilda Chavez, you make the most money and get the biggest bonuses in the department, so from now on you're in charge of our daily afternoon coffee run."
"Starting today, everything needs to be ready by 3 PM. Milk tea, coffee, pastries, the works. Minimum $50 per person. I'll decide the specific orders."
I stared at those lines and laughed out of sheer disbelief.
I'd always kept a low profile at work. All I'd done was mention at dinner that I'd finished paying off my mortgage, and this girl had latched onto it, trying to turn me into the department's personal ATM.
I typed two words in the group chat: Dream on.
The next afternoon, a delivery guy showed up at my desk with a mountain of drinks and pastries, asking me to pay.
……
I stared at that coffee schedule in the group chat again, so furious I actually laughed out loud.
A brand-new intern who'd been here all of five minutes had overheard one sentence at a department dinner and decided she was in charge of everyone's lifestyle.
I had zero interest in engaging with someone like that. I'd already shut it down in the chat. But the second lunch break ended, Mercedes Brady came sauntering over to my desk with a cup in hand, her face a picture of wide-eyed innocence.
"Matilda, you saw the message in the group chat, right?"
"The afternoon coffee run is all yours from now on. You make so much more than the rest of us. This kind of money is nothing to you."
She said it loud enough for the entire floor to hear. The moment the words left her mouth, every head in the vicinity swiveled toward me, eyes gleaming with the unmistakable thrill of spectators at a car wreck.
"Oh, and it needs to be ready by 3 PM."
"Milk tea, 70% sugar. Coffee has to be made with oat milk. And don't cheap out on the pastries. Minimum $50 a head."
"I've already collected everyone's preferences. I'll send you the list in a bit."
She rattled it all off like she was spending Monopoly money, not mine.
I looked at her, genuinely baffled. How did an intern who hadn't even made it past probation develop skin this thick?