Chapter 2

Sandra Miller, our CFO, placed the Internship Program Budget Proposal on my desk.

"Elena, are you absolutely sure you don't want to reconsider this?"

I didn't say a word.

Sandra flipped the budget sheet to the very last page.

"For this batch alone---thirty-seven interns---between mentor fees, base salaries, housing stipends, and health insurance, we're looking at nearly eight hundred thousand dollars. Elena, that's practically our entire net profit from last year."

I finally looked up.

"Sandra, our net profit last year was 1.2 million. I already cut this budget down from one million to eight hundred thousand. Some of our executives are mentoring on a volunteer basis, and we're housing them in the company's vacant corporate apartments. I've done the math. The actual out-of-pocket cost isn't that high."

Sandra sighed, pushing the document a little closer to me.

"Elena, I'm not saying it's a bad program. I'm saying our current cash flow can't support this level of charity."

Charity.

Hearing that word sent a sharp, familiar ache through my chest.

It brought me right back to my senior year of college.

The December wind cut through the streets like a knife.

I remembered wearing a thin, cheap black blazer and tight heels that blistered my feet, walking from office to office just to hand out my resume.

An HR manager at one company had literally shredded my resume right in front of my face. He told me, "Ivy League Master's grads are lining up for unpaid gigs. You're a state school grad, and you actually expect a paycheck?"

So, the moment I became my own boss, the very first thing I wanted to change was the toxic internship culture.

Sandra didn't argue. She knew that this eight hundred thousand dollars wasn't just a budget line. It was my personal crusade.

She hesitated. "The board... they might not back you on this."

I swept the file into my desk drawer. "I'll handle the board. The internship program officially launches next Monday."