Page 5 of The Chemistry Coach
They were high school students doing team-building as part of the training for a new internship program being offered by Daisy’s workplace, Collaborative Craft.They’d get college credit for assisting Daisy and her coworkers with large events Collaborative Craft hosted throughout the year.
She had looked forward to working with the group—teenagers were often enthusiastic, even when the activities were lame.However, unbeknownst to Daisy, this group comprised her boss’s spoiled brat of a daughter and her friends.The sense of entitlement rolled off them in waves and had Daisy clenching her fists and taking deep breaths to avoid losing her shit.
The constant arguing and deafening shrieks of outrage and flirtation were driving Daisy up a wall.When the timer on her phone went off, relief flooded her.The kids paid no attention to the alarm.She increased the volume and played the alarm again.When they still didn’t shut up, Daisy climbed onto a chair, clapped her hands, and yelled, “Hey!”
The six teenagers glared at her but ceased their incessant yammering.
“Time’s up!Let’s measure your towers.”
Daisy had instructed them to break into pairs and build the tallest tower they could with marshmallows and spaghetti noodles.Only one pair had bothered to build a tower.The other groups had opted instead to inhale entire bags of jumbo marshmallows while playing a game of chubby bunnies.
She rubbed at her temples and declared the one team that had participated the winners.Thank God for lunchtime.Daisy handed out the lunches the company had ordered for the group and bolted from the room, determined to sit in dark silence for a few minutes before she had to face her new clients.
She had barely had the chance to finish her sad PB&J before a knock sounded at her office door.She blew the wild curls from her eyes with a huff and rubbed a hand over her face before calling out, “It’s open!”
The door cracked and light flooded in, returning Daisy’s throbbing headache to the state it had been in before her so-called break started.One of the teenagers peeked his head around the corner.
“Why are you sitting in the dark?”he asked.
It was an innocent question, but if she had to explain the migraine she had coming on to this questionable young man, she would fly off the handle.Instead, she disregarded his question and used her best customer service voice to ask one of her own.
“What can I do for you?”
The boy stepped into the room and flipped on the fluorescent light, blinding her.
“Rob told me to shadow you for the rest of the afternoon.He said we’re supposed to clean the conference room before your new clients get here.”
Daisy woke her phone screen to check the time.Shit.They had ten minutes before she needed to be ready and waiting for them.
“Wonderful.”
She rounded her desk and pulled her office door open wider, leading the way to the room she had escaped.The unsupervised teens managed to make it look like a bomb had gone off in the conference room.Papers and craft supplies were strewn across every available surface.Food wrappers had been left behind, dirty forks and cups scattered over one table.
“What the fuck happened?”she asked the intern.
She evaluated him.He’d introduced himself that morning, but he had one of those cliché boy names.Josh, maybe?Or Jake?Daisy didn’t remember.It didn’t matter though; his appearance alone told her he wouldn’t be much help anyway.This one’s mom never taught him not to roll up to a new job in basketball shorts and a stained t-shirt advertising a local dispensary.
His gaze didn’t leave Daisy’s chest as he answered her question with a shrug.“We had lunch.”
She was well endowed, and the dress she had chosen for the day accentuated some of her favorite features, but damn, if she had to stoop to meet this boy’s eyes one more time she might lose her shit.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered under her breath, then louder, “Help me clean it; the next group will be here any minute.”
Daisy grabbed a small gray garbage bin and rushed around to each table, sweeping armfuls of trash into it, barring plastic cups with liquid still in them.The teenager picked one item up at a time and held it up for her inspection, asking, “Where should I put this?”This kid was no help.
Sweat dripped down her forehead, into her eyes, and when only cups remained, she swept soggy curls from her face with the back of her hand.
She reached for a cup at the same time as James/Jeremy/John.Disaster struck.He held on a little too long as she lifted it from the table, and the liquid flew out of the cup and onto her, coating her face, hair, and chest in a mystery fluid.
The intern watched in horror.He raised his hands in surrender when she gave him a murderous glare.
“What.The Fuck.Was that?”she demanded.
“We were messing around!They dared each other to drink it!”
“To drink what?”
The boy lowered his gaze to the floor and mumbled, “Everything.”
