At the end of the night, there was nothing to do but to ask her. We went back to the plant, and I popped the question.
“You want me to what?!”
“Be my intern,” I said. “Look, you’re destined for this line of work. You’ve shown an aptitude for it tonight with Julius. And haven’t you ever wondered why you’re attracted to guys who make the trip over at a young age? Why you can see me when no one else can?
“And the biggest thing,” I continued, “is your name. Grace Robinson… G.R. I told you my name is Jeff? It was originally spelled G-E-O-F-F… Geoff Reed… G.R… Grim Reaper.”
“I don’t know,” Grace mused.
“You’re still alive, so it’ll just be on weekends,” I said. “You’ll handle my paperwork and set my appointments. In return, I’ll show you the ropes. When your time finally comes, you’ll know it all—be a total pro. So, what do you say?”
Grace thought about it for what seemed like an eternity, which for someone like me is truly saying something.
“Okay,” she said. “Is this a paid internship?”