Arnold Rasmussin, 42 year old, married white male, was very angry. Very angry. He was the senior accountant for United Foundations, Inc. and he had been passed over again when it came to the assignment of interns to members of the accounting staff.
Arnold did not do anything about this. He didn't five years ago when the internship program was begun and he did not each year interns had been assigned since then.
Arnold was not a complainer. He was not assertive. His wife of 22 years told him he needed to take assertiveness training. She told him many times, as she berated him for whatever it was she was berating him about.
He sighed as he opened his office door, not looking forward to another day at a job that had become increasingly boring to him. He was trapped and he knew it.
Arnold was a very intelligent man. He was the brains behind the computer software that United Foundations used in its accounting. It was Arnold who convinced senior management that they were better off having him design and write the software than buying a program off the shelf.
He told them, not forcefully because Arnold could not do that and not in person because he was too shy for that, in several well-written memos why a proprietary program was superior to one designed by others. It took several memos, and the failure of the off-the-shelf program to catch several double payment errors to convince upper management, but he prevailed.
Arnold worked quickly and had the program up and running in less than a year. He did the work himself, not trusting any of his fellow accountants, whom he found frivolous and incompetent to a fault. He did not mind working alone, in fact preferred it.
What he did mind was that every other accountant had an intern, and what really hacked him off was that they were often nice looking young women. Some, in the early years, had been high school seniors but upper management decided, after one unfortunate incident, that it was not wise to have underage girls working in close quarters with their young accountants.
The woman who assigned interns had no idea that Arnold wanted one. She knew he liked to work alone and assumed that he preferred it.
Arnold's shyness prevented him from even approaching her. He had been promoted to chief accountant based to a great extent on his work on the accounting software and senior management saw him as basically a computer geek who knew accounting.
Melba Jackson, the woman who assigned interns, was going through her list of accountants who were available for interns Monday morning and found a problem.
Jennifer Saunders, a freshman accounting major from State University, had been assigned to work with Alice Sethwitch but Alice was in the last month of her pregnancy and had asked for early maternity leave. Her doctor was confining her to her home because of problems with her pregnancy.
Melba sighed. She hated problems. She hated to have her routine upset by things like this. Jennifer and Alice had gotten along well together and Melba now had to find someone else among the accounting staff to mentor Jennifer. A deep sigh escaped Melba's mouth, which was twisted into a mournful grimace.
To her dismay, every accountant had an intern assigned and the University forbade having more than one intern per accountant, insisting that a one-on-one relationship was the only approach that made sense.
Melba ran her finger up and down the list. Then her finger stopped at Arnold Rasmussin's name. Melba tapped her pencil on the desk, rattled her list of accountant and then, reluctantly, placed the call.
"Good morning Mr. Rasmussin," she said in her brisk voice. Her head nodded as she listened to Arnold's response. "I'm sorry to intrude on you this way," she continued, "but we have a problem."
Arnold grimaced at the words. When "we" had a problem it meant as a rule that "he" was going to have a problem. With a sigh of resignation, he inquired, with a certain amount of asperity in his voice, "And what is this problem?"
Melba, for all her brassiness, was afraid of Arnold. His braininess and reclusiveness intimidated her. Putting all the force she could in her voice, she told him, her voice rising as she rushed to get it all out, "Alice is taking early leave and we have to assign her intern to another accountant. You are the only one who does not have an intern. I'm sorry to do this to you. I know you like to work alone, but please accept this young woman. She is very nice, works hard, and Alice said she was very capable."
Arnold's eyes popped open and he took in an involuntary breath. He licked his lips, not able to believe his ears. At last, after all these years, he was going to have an intern. He had to lick his lips again before he could speak and his voice was suddenly hoarse with excitement. "Ahhhh...Ahh, that will be all right, Melba."
Melba put down the phone, relieved that Mr. Rasmussin had not put up a fuss. She called Jennifer and told her of the change in assignment and for her to go to Mr. Rasmussin's office the next morning.
Arnold was happy beyond belief. He hummed to himself the rest of the day, so happy he could have hugged Melba and anyone else who came within arm's reach. As it was, he ate the sandwich his wife prepared for him and drank the now stale coffee. His wife was very frugal and insisted that they save their money, for what Arnold was not sure, but save they did.
He was whistling when he opened the door. His wife looked at him suspiciously. Arnold was not the whistling type. "And what are you so cheerful about?" she barked at him. Arnold gave her a sunny smile, "Nothing, my love. It's just such a nice day and it is good to be home with you. What's for dinner?"
Alma turned away, certain Arnold had some secret he was keeping from her, "Irish stew," she told him. "I found a bargain at Cosco. The meat is only two days old and not at all green."
Arnold shuddered, hoping he would not get food poisoning. Sometimes Alma went too far in her frugality, he thought to himself. But even a bad dinner could not dampen his spirits.
He changed out of his business suit and picked up the paper and a beer, his one indulgence. He allotted himself a beer a night to drink as he read the paper. He looked at the bottle, wondering if he might try one of those more expensive foreign beers. He sighed, Alma would never put up with it.
Jennifer frowned when Melba called her with the news. She had heard from other interns about Rasmussin, loner, fussy, incommunicative, and more and more. She shuddered, wondering how she was going to deal with this.
She dressed carefully the next morning, wanting to create the best impression she could. She put aside all the negative things she had heard about Rasmussin, telling herself that she had been fooled more than once by negative gossip about somebody whom she later came to like.
Jennifer turned slowly as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She put her shoulders back, as she patted down the suit jacket. Her eyes narrowed as she examined her skirt.
I hope it is not too short for Rasmussin, she thought, as she looked at her knees and two inches of thigh that were exposed above her knees. She had good legs and was proud of them and did not intend to cover up one of her best assets no matter what kind of fussbudget Rasmussin was.
She opened the jacket and looked critically at her blouse, buttoned to her neck. She liked the frilly center that ran from the thin collar to where the blouse tucked into her skirt.
Her teeth bit her lips and she cocked her head, looking at herself in the mirror. The blouse was white nylon, a favorite of hers. One could see the outline of her 34C bra behind the cloth, but she did not think it was too immodest.
Closing the door behind her, Jennifer said goodbye to the one suitemate still home and walked, briefcase in one hand, purse over her shoulder, to the bus stop. She had a car, but hated to waste gas and money on a fifteen minute ride to United Foundation.
Jennifer went to Melba's office to get directions and walked, somewhat hesitantly, to Arnold's office. She knocked softly, then, taking her courage in hand, rapped loudly on the door.
Arnold Rasmussin was, if anything, more nervous than Jennifer. He hid it well from his wife, putting on his usual blue suit, bland striped tie, and long-sleeved white shirt. He kissed her dutifully goodbye and remembered to take his sandwich, chips, and thermos of coffee.
The knock on his door startled him, even though he had been expecting it. He had to swallow twice and clear his throat before he could say, "Come in, Jennifer." He was glad he remembered the girl's name.
Jennifer heard the nervousness in Arnold's voice and it caused her pulse to race for a moment. No shy maiden. She was double majoring in psychology and accounting. Her real love was psychology. Accounting was a safety net, a job in case her psychology education did not lead to something interesting.
She took as many psychology as accounting courses in her first semester and was doing the same thing this semester. She had tested out of the basic courses as an honor student in high school and had, her last semester in high school, taken most of the required courses the university demanded of its students. Jennifer was a whiz in math and computers and accounting came easy.
Psychology, the working of the mind, was what fascinated her. She analyzed every person she met and had driven her parents to distraction, as well as her aunts, uncles, cousins, and anyone else who came remotely near her.
She had worked hard when she came to the university to curb this, a least in terms of expressing herself aloud, but her analytical mind was always working and it was working as she opened the door.
Arnold stood up from his desk, having forced himself to stay seated until Jennifer entered. He did not want to appear eager. He walked toward Jennifer, extending his hand, "Good morning. I'm very pleased to meet you and to have you working with me as an intern."
