Woes of a Hopeless Secretary

by Adrianna Procida

A click on the keyboard. A click from my mouse. I type out another email, print another document. Answer and transfer phone calls. All the boring things that secretaries do. But I don’t hate it. Scheduling is like a puzzle. A challenge to see how well I can organize everything.

Dare I say, I enjoy it.

Moving through the familiar routine, I make efficient progress. If I keep this up, maybe I’ll get to go home early.

When moving onto the next thing on the to do list, someone enters my office. I look up from the computer to see who it is. Stupid idea.

In a gorgeous navy colored dress, elegant black coat, she has my undivided attention.

“I’m heading down to the 3 o’clock meeting. Do you think you can bring me some lunch when it’s done?” Her voice is heaven.

I nod silently and she smiles. She gives me a small wave before leaving. She checks her phone as she closes the doors.

She looks so beautiful today. Well, she looks beautiful every day. I can’t decide if I love being around her or hate it. Because the second she’s in the room I forget I have a voice.

I get another email in my inbox. I also forget that I have a job.

What was I doing again?

Right, emailing the venue.

Some advice — don’t fall in love with your boss. It may sound fun, exciting, and like a good motivation, but it’s not. No, it’s stressful and distracting. And if you do end up having a crush on your boss, don’t then be good at your job. Because then you could get promoted to where you spend almost all your time working directly with them. And how are you supposed to work if all you can think about is how gorgeous, kind, and generally amazing they are?

My first mistake was getting hired. After having to quit my last job a few weeks ago, I found an opening here. They were in need of another secretary, and I was already working as one for the previous company. So, I was decently qualified. I got hired and they must have had some lazy employees before, because somehow, I impressed them. I like doing my job well, so that’s what I did, and apparently, I was able to do double the work of their typical secretary. My secret is that I genuinely enjoy organizing and planning, and before I knew it, my supervisor offered me a promotion.

Not only does this company make designer clothes, but they also host galas. Those fancy dinners for rich people. Where everyone is served pretty food and they wear their nicest outfits. They have silent auctions and people trying to hide how drunk they really are.

“And the boss was trying to hire a personal assistant for the few months leading up to the event. You’d work directly with her to make sure that the gala goes smoothly. You’d also receive a raise during that time,” My supervisor, Anna, said.

Encouraged by money, I accepted the promotion. My second mistake. And I’m advised to go up to her office at the start of my next shift tomorrow, instead of my usual desk.

The next day I did just that.

I’d never seen the boss before. I should’ve done some research. But I’d heard a few things about her from my coworkers. What people mentioned most was that she used to be a model. They say that’s why she’s so nice to the models she hires, because she knows how annoying recruiters can be.

I stepped out of the elevator and across the hall was the door to her office. With nowhere else to go I knocked and quietly stepped in.

Inside, the room was huge, with large windows allowing a perfect view of the city skyline. The office was closer to a luxury hotel room than a workspace. The main area was decorated like a high-class living room. There were doors to the left and right of the place that I assumed were actual offices.

Anna was talking to the boss. The two women sat on couches set up in front of a coffee table. I gently closed the door behind me.

I took time to admire the patterned carpet while I waited to be spoken to.

“You’re here! Come,” Anna called me over. “Ms. Auclair, this is Louey. We think he’d make a great personal assistant.”

As I looked up to greet the person I’d be spending the next few months with, my whole body froze. My face heated up as I did not expect to lock eyes with … her.

A woman standing in a gorgeous, fitted dress. The deep blue complemented her dark eyes perfectly. Long, smooth black hair gently fell down her back. Classy silver jewelry adorned her.

Worst of all was her gaze, how it made my heart race, like I was about to have a heart attack. She smiled and extended her hand, “I can’t wait to work with you.”

Her voice was smooth and melodic, the sound of it alone could drop me to my knees. With whatever breath I had left I muttered a quick, “Likewise,” and shook her hand.

They try to include me in their conversation but my thoughts are paralyzed. All I can do is nod and admire. My eyes darted between her and the carpet, she probably noticed. 

I’m given my new schedule, a run-down of the work to expect, and am told to report to this office starting tomorrow. I nodded and thanked them for the opportunity.

After being excused I quickly escaped. When the elevator door closed, I buried my red face in my hands.

“Oh god,” When they said model, I didn’t expect a goddess on earth. My heart was still trying to come back to a normal pace, and I barely spoke to her.

Why did I accept that promotion?

…

I pressed the button in the elevator, and it took me up to the top floor. I fidget with my tie. My nerves got worse with each passing floor.

“Keep it together.” I muttered to myself, shaking my head to hopefully jostle the irrational thoughts out of my brain.

It’s not for forever. Plus, the work you were doing before was easy. This shouldn’t be too much harder.

But that wasn’t the problem. I knew that the second I’d see her I’d become a silent mess. How can I get anything done with a woman like her around? How can I think about anything but her.

The elevator opened. No, it’s okay. Just be polite and professional as you always are. And like I always do, I walked out with my stoic and indecipherable stare. Straight posture and put together. Nothing happened, I’m just going to work.

I opened the door. Before I saw her, I smelled sweet vanilla.

“Good morning, when you’re ready I have some meetings I need you to schedule for me. Oh, you can settle into that desk over there.” Ms. Auclair guided me to a smaller office within her office. Though, the new elegant space decorated with mahogany furniture was much more daunting than my previous little cubicle.

She gave me the list of all the people she needed to meet with. She handed me her current schedule and talked about… about… actually, this is where my mind started wandering. She was wearing such a lovely vanilla perfume. And like yesterday her dress is gorgeous, only this time it’s a dark violet instead of deep blue. And her eyes are stunning, with such naturally long lashes, and…

“I’m sorry, that’s a lot. If you can’t get it all situated by five, please let me know, and I’ll see who can wait until next Thursday.” She said, “Feel free to ask if you have any questions, I’ll be over at my desk.”

I nodded, “Okay, I’ll let you know when it’s situated.”

She smiled and left me to work.

After a moment to breathe and relax my heart, I focused back onto the task at hand.

…

A few days later, when walking into work, I ran into my old supervisor, Anna.

“Louey, how’s the promotion?” she asked.

“Good, the extra money’s helpful.”

“That’s good. How’s the Gala going so far? Any big setbacks yet?”

“No, it’s been going well.” I said.

“I have a good feeling about this year. I’m excited to see what dress Auclair’s going to wear. Last year’s gown was incredible. She always picks something new from the collection.”

Ms. Auclair already dresses beautifully every day to work. If she wears anything more stunning I might faint.

“Alright, well I’ll let you get to work. Have a good one.”

“You too.” We waved goodbye and went back to where we were headed. I wonder what dress she wore last year.

…

You’d think after a week of this, I’d get used to seeing her. I’d expect her beautiful dresses, charming smile and such. But twelve days in and my hopelessly delusional mind still thinks I’m seeing her for the time. Instead I’ve gotten used to the heart palpitations.

In the middle of a seemingly routine day, vanilla perfume and heeled footsteps approach my desk. I take a quick deep breath to prepare myself before looking up. It didn’t work, I still panicked, but thank god for my blank face.

“Louey, have you eaten lunch yet?” Ms. Auclair asks.

“Not yet.”

“If you’d like, would you want to go grab some food with me, my treat.”

Huh? What? Why? Why on earth would she want to grab lunch with me? I can barely talk to her, let alone strike up interesting conversation.

“I like meeting and getting familiar with my employees. Plus, we work so closely together that it’s a shame I don’t know you better.”

Maybe my silence gave away my thoughts.

I nod. She did her eyeliner differently today. And she has a mole under her left eye. It’s pretty.

“Great! Would you want to go now?”

I was still frozen in my seat, silently looking up at her. I was supposed to stand. “Oh, sure.”

We went downstairs to the office’s cafe. No one was there, like usual, as everyone’s typically too focused on work to remember to eat.

“I’m glad you were interested in working here. Last year the gala was a mess. My old secretary wasn’t very organized, which is ironic. So, I’m glad we’re working together instead.” Ms. Auclair says.

Going up to the counter she orders a coffee and a fancy little sandwich with tomato, turkey, provolone and pesto.

“Louey, what do you want?” she asks.

“I’m alright.”

She raises an eyebrow at me, my heart skips a beat.

“Please, I invited you, let me get you something.”

I don’t even know what I want. “I’ll have the same thing then.”

“Coffee too?”

“Macchiato.”

We grab a seat at a little table while we wait for our lunch.

“So, what made you want to apply here? Money I’m assuming. But anything else.”

“I like fashion and thought it would be nice to work within the industry.”

“Hm, I had a feeling you did. You always show up very well dressed.”

“Thank you, so do you.”

She smiles. I regret saying that. Did I just give myself away? No, it was only a compliment.

The barista brings our drinks over to the table. Ms. Auclair takes a sip. A bit of her lipstick marks the rim of her cup.

Ms. Auclair carried on the conversation. I’m glad she likes to talk, otherwise my awkwardness would’ve led to a horrible silence by now. She talks about her day and the work she still needs to do. She tells me about coworkers and her family. All while I nod and listen. Not knowing what to say, but also not wanting to interrupt the mesmerizing sound of her voice.

“I did modeling for a few years before I shifted over to the business side of things. I’m assuming you’ve considered modeling before?”

I shake my head.

“Really? I was for sure you would have.”

“What makes you say that?” I take a sip of my coffee.

“Because you have the face for it.”

Horrible timing. I try to suppress a coughing fit as I choke on my drink. I don’t think I heard her right. “What?”

“You do! You have great skin, good symmetry. And your features are just striking enough that you’ll stand out nicely.”

Still quietly trying to recover, I couldn’t get myself to speak.

“If you have the time, you should think about it.”

I nod, and fidget with my tie again. I don’t think anyone’s ever complimented me like that before. Lost in thought, I don’t say anything.

She takes another sip of her coffee, “You’re very quiet.”

Ironic isn’t it. You’d think with how loud my thoughts are, some of those words would be said aloud. But no. I don’t even try to talk. I’m trying too hard to be normal. To pretend like I don’t think she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. To pretend like I can actually breathe right when I’m around her.

“I’m sorry, if you couldn’t tell, I’m not good with conversation.” I finally speak.

“It’s okay,” She smiled. “But you’re great at communicating. That’s what’s important.”

Ms. Auclair checks her watch, she must like silver. She put her trash in the bag her food came in, and took her last sip of coffee. As she goes to throw it away, I look down at my untouched sandwich. I forgot to eat it.

…

Later that week, I met up with one of the managers to get an update on inventory. He gave me a rundown of everything they had and needed. I took notes to remember what to tell the supplier.

As we walked through the 2nd floor, moving to the next thing he needed to update me on, my thoughts pause.

 I heard her voice, and she called my name.

“Louey! Here, I got you a macchiato. I was going to leave it on your desk, but since you’re here,” She handed the coffee to me.

I nod, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“I’ll see you in the office. And it’s nice seeing you, Ivan.” Ms. Auclair said, before leaving.

I look down at the coffee. She was thinking about me. Why?

Perhaps my silence was easy to read because Ivan shook his head and sighed.

“What?” I asked.

“You know she likes you, right?” Ivan said and kept walking.

“Huh! No, that’s ridiculous. She’s just nice.” I followed.

“Yeah, she’s nice, but not that nice. I’ve worked here for eight years, she’s never bought me a coffee. Let alone remember what kind of coffee I liked. I bet you always get macchiato’s.”

“Well, maybe it’s because I’m her assistant. Plus, it makes no sense for her to like someone like me. She is… far too incredible.” I stop myself before I say anything worse.

Ivan rolled his eyes, “Whatever man…”

He refocused us back to the topic at hand. But while I continued taking notes, I wondered, maybe he’s right? If Ivan’s worked here for that long, he must know her well. If he’s right, what should I do?

No, stop. Delusional. You are being Delusional. Focus.

…

One day, as I was walking past the cubicles towards the cafe for my lunch break, I heard my name being whispered. I couldn’t quite tell where it came from. But it was also reasonable to believe that I misheard something else. So I almost forgot that it happened.

But the next day, I heard my name again. This time I heard a bit more of the sentence.

”Yeah, that’s him. Who told you that anyway?”

It was suspicious and unsettling. I tried to ignore the murmurs at first. But every time I passed the cubicles, or spaces populated with employees, I heard more and more things.

Each new whisper made it harder to deny the fact that I was in the middle of some new gossip.

The nail in my coffin was what I heard someone say to their friend by the coffee maker, “How can it be an affair if Ms. Auclair isn’t even married?”

Dear god. I pieced together everything I’ve heard. Recalled all the past whispers.

“She’s been acting different since he showed up.”

“It’s a hard rumor to believe, he’s paid to spend time with her.”

“Ivan used to be her assistant for a while, so he knows her better than most.”

“But what if he’s just pissed that she promoted this newbie instead of him?”

“You have to admit, they would make a gorgeous couple.”

I’ve never wanted to disappear more than at this very moment. I think Ivan started a rumor that we’re dating, or together, or doing something. What on earth did I do to deserve this? Does he hate me?

Maybe it wasn’t him, but who else could it be? I barely talk to anyone in this place, and if I do, it’s work related. So it has to be him, right? Why? This can’t be real. And if it wasn’t Ivan, what did I do to expose my crush?

I stopped leaving my office during my lunch breaks. As much as I want to know more about this gossip, I don’t think I can show my face around there anymore.

…

One day after work, I decided to stop and get lunch at my favorite cafe. The warm atmosphere and comfy seating is relaxing. I order my food and sit down in my usual corner. Despite being further back in the building, I still get nice natural light through the many tall windows.

While I wait for my food I entertain myself with my phone and the muffled sound of conversations and coffee makers.

But breaking the quiet, the unexpected sound of my name startles me.

“Louey, it’s good to see you.”

My initial surprise turned to panic. “Hi, Ms. Auclair. I didn’t expect to see you here.” I fixed my posture and fumbled my phone off.

She smiled, “Relax, you’re off the clock. I was passing by and saw you in the window. Figured I’d stop by and say hi.”

I nodded. Overthinking what to respond with.

“I ordered myself something. Do you mind if I sit with you?” She asked.

“Oh, not at all.”

She takes the seat across from me. As she sat down, she started a conversation.

“Are you familiar with this place?” She asked.

I nod, “It’s one of my favorite cafe’s, I eat here often.”

“That’s nice. Do you live around here?”

“Yes, my place is a ten-minute walk away.”

“Do you live alone?”

I nod.

“Do you have any pets to keep you company?”

“I have a pet mouse.”

“A mouse! How adorable, what’s its name?”

“Coco.”

“How cute. Do you have a picture of them?”

Saved in an album dedicated to Coco on my phone, I showed Ms. Auclair all the pictures of my little white and brown mouse.

“He’s so tiny! Coco has the same colors of the puppy I used to have. Let me show you.” She then showed me pictures of a little beagle she had when she was a kid. She named her Hazel.

While looking at the old photos Ms. Auclair got carried away by memories. Silly things Hazel did. Funny Christmas stories, and all the costumes and sweaters she made Hazel wear.

While she talked all I could do was be enamored by her presence. My heart fluttered at the sound of her voice. It felt surreal to see her outside of the office. It’s even more surreal that she wants to talk to me outside of the office. I can’t begin to understand why. Every possible explanation I can come up with is just the hopeless romantic in me trying to sound rational.

But my logical reasoning was struggling severely, because as the conversation continued she began complimenting me. My plain reaction didn’t do much to address it, other than saying thank you. But my heart couldn’t take it much longer.

I like your shoes. That vest looks good on you. Who cut your hair, the style suits you. You have good taste in rings.

My hands were shaking as I took a sip from my drink. And the fluttering of my heart turned to racing. My head started to spin, overwhelmed with her kindness. By compliment three I couldn’t say anything. By compliment five I think I died. I’m confident that my face became noticeably red.

“You can eat by the way. I don’t want your food to get cold.” Ms. Auclair said.

I look down at the table, how long has my meal been sitting there. When did the waitress stop by? Oh god, get a hold of yourself.

I took a bite and kept listening as she talked.

“Sorry, this is completely off topic. And I shouldn’t even be mentioning this…” Ms. Auclair said, then paused.

“What?” I asked.

She leaned forward just a bit, as if she was going to tell me a secret, “Have you heard the rumor going around the office?”

If I could scream I would. Jesus, that is the last thing I wanted to think about. “No… no I haven’t.” I lied.

“Really? Cause it’s been spreading like crazy.”

I pretend like this gossip isn’t tearing away at my insides with embarrassment and shame.

“What’s the rumor about?”

She had a soft smile on her face, as if she was about to make herself laugh, “That we’re secretly dating.”

If God were to strike me dead right now, I think that that would be far more merciful than having me exist in another second of this conversation.

Trying to suppress every thought I’ve ever had, I slightly tilt my head in performative confusion.

“Who started that?”

“No idea. Though it’s not the first time I’ve been rumored to be dating someone.” She leaned back in her chair, “What’s your opinion on the whole thing?”

“My opinion?”

“Ya, like, does it bother you? Is it funny, interesting, unnecessarily nosey?”

It’s scary and stressful. Now I’m looking back at every single thing I’ve ever said or done to figure out the exact moment that may have tipped someone off. But all my self-reflection could be in vain, for all I know, the person who started this, probably Ivan, could’ve pulled this accusation out of thin air.

And my silence and hesitation to respond is making this stress worse.

As I try to formulate a suitable response her phone rings. God answered my prayer.

“Sorry,” she says as she answers the phone.

It’s someone from work. I sit and rewrite the potential answer to her question in my head. Trying to find the most normal, not in love thing, to say.

After a few minutes of talking on the phone she stands up, “I’m sorry but I have to go. There’s a complication with the recruiter and he for some reason wants to see me ASAP.”

“No worries.” I said.

“Thank you for letting me talk your ear off.” She joked.

“Please, I enjoy listening.”

“Well, get home safe, I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you then.”

She waved goodbye and went on her way.

…

As I clock in on Monday, Ms. Auclair asks me to follow her to her desk.

“Have you seen the pieces we’re going to showcase at the gala?”

“A few.”

“The designers are coming up with great stuff for the collection.”

She pulls up the concept art on her computer. Incredible pieces. A great mix of bold and classy.

“They’re lovely,” I said.

“Yes, I can’t wait to see them in person. I still can’t decide which one I want to wear for the gala.” She leans back in her chair and scrolls back and forth between the pictures. “What do you think?”

“Me?” I ask. She nods. Damn, any of these dresses would look incredible. They all have deep colors that she wears so well. I picture her styling them with her silver jewelry. “They’d all look gorgeous on you. I would say you wear cool tones more than warm ones though.”

“Thank you. I do always wear blues or purples. This one’s a Castleton Green, that would be new.”

She opens the photo of the design she’s talking about. In a few months I’ll see her in one of these gowns. I don’t know how I’ll function.

“Well, I still have time. There are two more dress ideas that they were going to send me tomorrow. I can decide then. I’m sorry you’re probably busy.”

I shake my head, “It’s alright.”

“I’ll let you get back to work. Let me know if any of the potential sponsors get back to us.”

“Will do.”

With nothing else to say I walk back to my office.

I close the door behind me and fall into my chair. I lean back and try to reset my mind. Try to get her out of my head so I can work. Her face is slowly being engraved into my memory. It’s all I want to look at. All I want to think about.

I feel like the luckiest man alive. Somehow, the world let me work with her. Be personally at her side for the months leading up to this. I get to wake up knowing that the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen knows my name.

I can’t get it out of my head. What she said to me. I have a face for modeling. She thinks I’m pretty. What else could that mean? She, of all people, said that to me.

In the reflection of my computer screen, my stupid face is smiling like an idiot. I bring my hand to cover my mouth. I look ridiculous. The ticking of my watch reminds me that I was trying to work.

I sit up and attempt to re-focus. But I know the second she walks by again, she’ll have my undivided attention like always.

BIO

Adrianna Procida is an undergraduate Creative Writing student studying at the University of LaVerne. Her work has appeared in Prism Review, issue 27. She self-published a novella titled, What Can’t Be Seen, that can be found on Amazon. Adrianna is passionate about the arts, and on top of her love for writing she also dabbles in visual art and music.