The Intern Vol. 2(15)

Having my parents bring up Hannah's name again stirred my emotions up. It's not something I enjoy thinking about.

The very girl who screwed me-over and over again. I believed every word she said to me, every word laced with lies and deceit.

I was fresh out of graduate school when I started working exclusively at  Leighton Enterprises. Saying goodbye to my modeling career, my father  slowly taught me things throughout my college years. It wasn't until I  had my master's degree that he finally gave me access to all the files  and confidential information. Information news reporters and magazines  would do anything to get their hands on during a big story.

Enter Hannah Whitman. Twenty-two year old college graduate from Penn  State. Education major with dreams of teaching first graders. Sweet,  sexy, and full of complete shit.

Enter the real Hannah Whitman AKA Hannah Winters. Twenty-five year old post-graduate student in journalism.

I've been known to think with my cock before my head. Shit, it happens.  Especially, when beautiful, young girls throw themselves at you.  Especially, when you're a high-profile model with nothing to lose.
         

     



 
She made a fool of me. I let her in-too close. She stole all of my files  and sold them to another company. They were later recognized for  solving the case. Not only did they report on it for months after-my  mistake constantly shoved in my face-but it almost ruined Leighton  Enterprises. New security measures were taken and the battle of taking  Hannah to court began-still in the process of making her pay for all  that, but more than likely, she'll make a plea bargain.

It's been hard to let anyone in after that. I went back to one-nighters and emotionless sex-that was until I met Ceci.

I curse the second I realize she's left. I text her how sorry I am and  beg her to come back and talk with me. I know she's humiliated, but my  parents are the last thing we need to worry about right now. As long as  no one in my office finds out, we're in the clear until her internship  is over, and then I don't fucking care who knows.

I've called her thirty-six times in the past six days. No answer. I've emailed nine times. No response.

Nothing.

By Friday, I can barely take it. I don't know if she'll show up for her  internship on Saturday. I don't know if she'll ever talk to me again,  and I hardly understand why.

I'm filled with so much rage, I don't know if I'll be able to stand  seeing her without slamming her against my desk and fucking her until  she comes to her senses. I wouldn't even stop if my own mother walked  in.

I'm agitated the entire day. I snap at everyone who tries to speak to  me. Even my own secretary flipped me off when I told her where to shove  that piece of shit stapler.

I need to see her. I can't wait another fucking night. It's killing me. I  don't know what she's doing, what she must be thinking or who the hell  she could be with.

I dig into her intern application and find her home address. If she's  going to insist on hiding from me, I'm just going to have to find her.







After showering and getting dressed, I head out. I anticipate she'll be  pissed, but I don't care. I'm not letting her walk away without giving  me answers first.

I pull up to her house and notice it's in a nice neighborhood, mainly  filled with families and children. I begin sweating nervously, unsure if  I should get out or not. This isn't where I expected a college-aged  student to live with a household of roommates. Perhaps they were renting  from a family or she was living with hers?

I wipe my hands on my jeans and get out. I walk to the front and knock  firmly on the door. My nerves eat at me until a young woman opens the  door, her eyes bulge out of her face as she scans my body.

"Good evening, I'm sorry to bother you-"

"Yes." She licks her lips seductively. "Whatever you're selling, I'll take it." Her lips form a flirtatious grin.

I grin and stifle a laugh before responding. "Um, sorry I'm not selling  anything. I'm actually just looking for someone. Ceci? Ceci West. Does  she live here?"

Her smile instantly drops and she frowns. "Ceci?" Her eyebrows rise in question. "Sorry, she's not here."

I exhale, disappointed. I shift uncomfortably before asking, "Do you know where she is? Or when she'll be back?"

She cocks a hip. "Who are you? And what do you want with my little sister?"

"Little sister?" My eyebrows narrow. "Like a sorority?"

She laughs. "No … like I'm her big sister." She puts her hand out in front of me. "I'm Casey West. It's nice to meet you-"

My body tenses. No, freezes. Hell, I don't know what the fuck it does,  but I'm stunned shocked. My body's autopilot takes over as I grab her  hand in mine and shake hers.

"Casey, it's nice to meet you. I'm Bentley."

"Pleasure's all mine." She continues her seductive tone. "I can let her  know you stopped by. She's hanging with Simon tonight. She'll probably  get in late, but I can-"

"No, it's fine. I'll just, um, catch up with her later." I nod pleasantly and make my way back to my car.

I can't control the emotions flooding in as I take in what I just learned.

Casey.

Shit.

It's not even her fucking name!

And who the hell is Simon?

My mother's words reluctantly re-enter my mind …  Make sure she isn't another Hannah.

Fuck.



End of Volume Two