No Jobs For Mommys Little Girl Chapter 2

The moment the notification went out, Mackenzie claimed the largest glass-walled conference room in the building. She gathered the other interns like she was a general addressing her troops.

“Since Morgan personally tapped me to lead this,” she said, her voice carrying that practiced, melodic lilt, “it’s clear the firm is looking for my specific vision. Follow my lead, and we’ll all get our full-time offers.”

She began delegating. She took the "vision" and the "presentation" for herself—the parts that involved talking and looking important. For the actual heavy lifting—the core architecture and the back-end database—she waved a hand toward Noelle.

“You’re the technical one,” Mackenzie said, her tone dripping with patronizing sweetness. “I’ll leave the 'gritty bits' to you. Don't let me down.”

Noelle just nodded, her eyes fixed on her laptop, and got to work.

Ten minutes after the meeting ended, Daniel walked into my office and dropped a call log on my desk.

“Front desk is losing their minds, Morgan. Mackenzie’s mother has called four times this morning. First, she wanted to know if this project was 'The Big One.' Second, she wanted to confirm her daughter was the only leader. Third, she asked when we’d be hosting the 'coronation' banquet for the successful completion.”

I didn't even look up. “And the fourth?”

“She wanted to know if we could provide a car service for Mackenzie since 'leading' is so draining.”

I didn't say a word. I opened the project management software. Mackenzie’s contributions were a graveyard of aesthetic tweaks: “Updated button color to 'Ocean Breeze,'” “Adjusted padding on landing page,” “Added fade-in animation for logo.”

Noelle’s log was a masterclass: “Refactored query module, 40% efficiency gain,” “Fixed memory leak in core framework,” “Optimized response times by 30%.”

Two days before the deadline, Noelle tagged Mackenzie in the dev-thread.

“@Mackenzie, I found a vulnerability in the current architecture. Under high traffic, the data will desync. I’ve drafted an optimization plan to fix the core functions. Can you review?”

Mackenzie’s reply was instant and sharp.

“Noelle, do you understand what 'scope creep' is? Stick to your tasks. I’m the lead, and I’ve already approved the architecture. We need to focus on the 'wow factor,' not invisible 'what-ifs.'”

Noelle didn't argue. But in the backend, I saw her create a new branch. She named it: “Emergency_Stable_Backup.”

I looked at the two diverging paths on my screen. I already knew where this was going.

The calls from the mother, Mrs. Beaumont, became more aggressive. She contacted HR, demanding to know what Mackenzie’s starting salary would be and suggesting the company provide her with a private office "to protect her delicate focus." The administrative staff were on the verge of a revolt.

Meanwhile, Mackenzie was obsessed with the pitch deck. I heard it had cinematic transitions and a custom soundtrack.

The night before the final presentation, I logged in one last time. A final comment from Noelle sat at the top of the thread, unaddressed.

“@Mackenzie, the core authentication module has a fatal logic flaw. It bypasses the password check entirely. If we don’t patch this, the system will crash the moment we try to demo it tomorrow.”

I checked the timestamps. Mackenzie had logged off thirty minutes prior. She hadn't even seen it.