“Sorry.” Hazel averted her gaze.
“Don’t be.” Cartwright raked his eyes over her. “It’s cute how intense you are. It can be hard to convince people your age to care.”
“I’ve always been like this,” Hazel admitted. She tossed her empty coffee cup in the trash. “I made my parents get a recycle bin. I had to make my own dinners in high school when I became a vegan because my mother didn’t want to make a separate meal. I went to a protest for the first time at twelve.”
Cartwright laughed again. “You certainly are full of energy. But you’re going to have to focus somehow. You can’t save the whole world.”
“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try at all.” Hazel shrugged. “I feel like that’s where a lot of my peers are. They’re just overwhelmed by all the problems, so they end up doing nothing. I won’t give up just because I can’t do everything.”
Cartwright licked his lips, looking ever so amused. “I have a feeling you’re going to keep me on my toes, Miss Greenwood.”
“Sounds fun!”
Cartwright nodded and patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll have HR send the relevant paperwork to you. You can start Monday.” He started to leave, then paused at the door. “I hope it goes without saying that I’ll expect appropriate business attire.”
“Right…” Hazel looked down at herself. Maybe the jean short overalls with the black cat patterned shirt had been a mistake. She must look like a toddler today. “I’ll be there at eight.”
“I await our first day working together with baited breath,” Cartwright teased.
Hazel folded her arms over herself. Why hadn’t she thought to dress better today? She never put that much effort into outfits for class, but she could have at least tried to look like an adult. It was a little grating—knowing that she was younger than most of her peers. She’d skipped first grade and so, even with her double major, she had only just turned twenty-one. No matter what, she would have to step up her game for this internship. A lot was riding on her performance here, and Dr. Cartwright had been very generous, but if she didn’t live up to his expectations, then there probably would be no book, no letter, and definitely some professional embarrassment.
But she had the weekend. She would use it to look beyond the tabloid story of Ian Cartwright and prepare to show her professor all she was really capable of.
Chapter Four
In spite of everything, Ian half expected Hazel to appear at the office wearing some flowy sundress and black boots. Or a romper with daisies on it, paired with socks that had cats on them. Nothing he’d seen from Hazel so far had prepared him for the moment his secretary Vicki had brought Hazel to him wearing a tailored suit with impeccable black pants and a blazer. The blouse underneath strained slightly against the buttons over her breasts, but the overall look was the least nonsense Ian had ever seen her in. He would have been less surprised to see a young aspiring CEO walking, thusly dressed, into his office.
“Miss Greenwood here to see you, sir,” Vicki said as she opened the door, echoing her announcement from a few minutes prior—when she’d asked him what to do with the new intern who said she was here to meet him.
Ian’s eyes drifted to the few stray curls at Hazel’s neck that had escaped from the clean bun she’d pinned her hair into. “Thank you, Vicki. Hazel, if you would like to have a seat?”
He gestured in front of him, expecting her usual nervous fumbling, but Hazel approached his desk calmly and took her seat without any stammering or sweating.
“Good morning, Dr. Cartwright. I dropped my HR packet off with Helen. She said that she’d let me know if there were any other signatures she needed. So I should be ready to go,” Hazel said in an even, bright voice.
“Indeed. What do you think of our office here?” Ian asked.
Hazel looked around, arching a brow like it hadn’t occurred to her that the walls were there, and shrugged. “It’s a very comfortable space, for a corporation. More windows than I would have guessed.”
“Exactly.” Ian bobbed his head. “The construction of the building does as much to create your work atmosphere as any initiative you put into effect.”
“True. Unfortunately, literal beggars can’t be choosers. In some nonprofits, we’ll take what we can get.” Hazel smiled. “Are you the one who chooses what the building will look like?”
“Hm.” Ian shook his head. “No, I delegate that. However, I do give directions down the line regarding what I expect from each branch of my business.”