Kadri arrived early the next morning. Her reflection in the building's glass doors caught her mid-yawn as she reached for her ID card. She hadn't even let herself hit snooze that morning. She was determined to be competent, brilliant, and most importantly, utterly un-ignorable.
KnightTech was her big break, and she was not going to let one coffee incident define her.
She took the elevator alone, this time without offending any CEOs, and made her way to the Product Development wing. A tall woman in a plum-colored pantsuit stood by the door, scrolling through her tablet. She had the look of someone who'd already had two espressos and didn't tolerate nonsense.
"You must be Kadri," the woman said, without looking up.
"Yes. Reporting for duty."
"I'm Kelly. Lead Product Manager," she said, finally glancing at her. "I've been warned about your coffee talents. Keep your drinks capped and five feet away from anything that lights up."
Kadri chuckled nervously. "Message received."
Kelly didn't smile. "I run a tight team. No excuses, no hand-holding. If I assign you something, I expect it done on time and done well. Understand?"
Kadri nodded. "Crystal clear."
"Good. You're shadowing Ayo today. He'll brief you on the pitch decks and give you access to our prototype files."
Ayo turned out to be a laid-back guy with a dry sense of humor and a brain like a filing cabinet. He showed Kadri how to navigate the internal software, where the product blueprints were stored, and what their upcoming presentation to potential investors looked like.
"You'll be updating slides, double-checking data, and flagging any inconsistencies," he said. "Basically, make us look smarter than we are."
Kadri nodded, fingers flying over the keyboard.
"Just don't mess with the layout. Kelly is allergic to fonts she didn't approve."
By mid-afternoon, Kadri had settled into a groove. She was highlighting typos, trimming wordy slides, and fixing graphs like her life depended on it.
And honestly, it did.
At exactly 3:00 p.m., her inbox pinged with a message titled: "Review. Deadline: 5PM." It was from Andrew Knight.
She clicked on the attachment with careful hands. It was a document, part of the executive summary for KnightTech's newest app, an AI-powered scheduling tool.
Kadri read the brief once. Then again. And the third time.
There were discrepancies. The product description was vague. The tone was robotic. And someone had spelled "optimization" with an S.
She glanced at the clock: 3:07 p.m. She had less than two hours to return something worthy of Knight's cold, critical eyes.
Her fingers flew. She rewrote entire sections for clarity and impact, adjusting the tone to sound both confident and user-friendly. She cleaned up the formatting, checked for consistency, and even added a line about how the app could improve productivity in fast-paced industries.
At 4:59 p.m. sharp, she hit send.
Then she exhaled so deeply it shook her chair.
She didn't hear anything back that day. Or the next.
On the third morning, just as she was updating a spreadsheet, a message popped into her inbox:
Subject: Not bad.
From: Andrew Knight
"See me at 2:30 pm."
Kadri's stomach did a backflip. It was either a compliment or the beginning of another lecture.
At 2:25, she knocked on his door.
"Come in," came the familiar deep voice.
She stepped in, notebook in her hand, ready to defend every comma in that document.
Andrew Knight didn't look up at first. He was typing on his laptop, sleeves rolled up, tie slightly loosened. He looked less like a ruthless CEO and more like a very intense professor with a grudge against free time.
"You rewrote my executive summary," he said finally.
"Yes," Kadri replied. "Was there a mistake still?"
He leaned back, studying her.
"No. There was none… better than what my assistant drafted."
Kadri blinked. Was that… a compliment?
"I assumed it was a test," she said cautiously.
" Yes it was."
"And?"
"You passed."
A slow, careful breath escaped her lips. "So… no inventory duty this time?"
He almost smiled. But did not.
"You've earned a real assignment. There's an internal pitch tomorrow. I want you on the prep team. You'll sit in. Take notes. Watch."
"Watch?" she asked, brows raised. "That's it?"
"For now. Don't worry, I have bigger plans for you."
The words sounded simple, but they landed heavy.
Kadri met his gaze. "Why me?"
"You ask too many questions."
"That's not an answer," she said.
Andrew stood up, walking to the whiteboard. "Because you're smart. You challenge people. You talk back when you shouldn't, which annoys me, but it means you're bold and fearless."
She crossed her arms. "So you like me then."
He turned slowly. "Let's not get carried away."
"Too late," she teased. "I'm already making room for a plaque in your office. 'Intern of the Year.' Gold letters."
He didn't laugh, but his eyes sparkled.
"Just show up on time tomorrow," he said. "And wear something professional."
Kadri mock-saluted. "Yes, sir. No coffee, no talking back, and no sarcasm. Got it."
He glanced at her one last time, and this time, he didn't hide the smirk.
"I said professional. Not boring."
As Kadri left the office, heart pounding and head buzzing, she realized something. She wasn't just surviv
ing this internship anymore. She was starting to thrive.
And she hadn't even shown him what she was truly capable of yet.