Madison the Intern_(1)
Steaming coffee in one hand and a warm cream cheese bagel in the other, I carefully backed against the large glass door to the reception area and pushed it open with my rear. I stepped through, the pneumatic closer offering up a mechanical hiss to pull it shut after I entered. ‘Hey Maddie, you’re late,” Sheila observed, looking up from her stack of paperwork. “She’s already called to ask about you.” I glanced at the glow of the digital clock on her receptionist desk. 8:02, it displayed in nonnegotiable terms — two unforgivable minutes overdue. I gave her a pleading gaze with my large brown eyes, knowing in my heart that she was powerless to help. “She’s in a state this morning,” Sheila warned sympathetically. “The new girl from Accounting has been in there for …