Happy Secretary's Day

         On an unusually early Monday morning, Rebecca Cole groggily struggled to unlock the entry to the law office. Her yawn was interrupted by a gasp and the words “Oh my God!” when she looked toward her desk. Behind it stood a black leather chair adorned with an oversized blue bow and tag reading...

         Becca –
         You needed a new chair and aren’t allergic to leather. Happy Secretary’s Day!
         Pete

         Laughing softly, Becca removed the tag and ran her hand over the velvety leather before testing her new chair. It felt specifically designed for her, with the glorious scent of new leather drifting around her nose. After wiggling down into the seat, she felt the yielding skin caressing her back and shoulders. Relaxed and content, she sighed, closed her eyes and reminisced.

         For the past five years she worked for an attorney by the name of Peter Wilkenson. Currently, you are considered an assistant or aide, but to her, both were simply a novel tag for a legal secretary. When she was originally hired, she secretly, and frequently, glanced in his direction with genuine awareness. Or would these glimpses be considered plain old desire? Sure he was unattached, attractive, always impeccably dressed and in remarkably great shape. Yet the consistent respect and consideration continually extended to her resulted in a simple, platonic friendship. Now if either Peter or Becca needed a favor, they could openly ask one another without hesitation. Everything regarding her position was perfect, except for one day of the year...Secretary’s Day.
         As the day looked forward to by thousands of working secretary/assistants throughout America neared, Becca found herself tempted to white-out the day on every calendar in the office. Knowing Peter as long as she did, she sensed he flipped through new calendars as soon as they were received and memorized every special date. Her boss was a man who always remembered. Unfortunately, the problem was the ways he remembered.
         Caution regarding that particular day started the first year she was employed. Becca arrived at the office and noticed a huge helium balloon emblazoned with TO A GREAT SECRETARY on two sides. The enormous message had been secured to a five pound box of dark chocolates innocently left on her desk. She smiled gratefully at Peter and thanked him; relieved he left early and wouldn’t have to watch his faithful employee struggle during the transportation of the awkward gift back to her apartment. The treats would have been blissfully consumed if she enjoyed dark chocolate; unbelievably dark chocolate. After sampling one of the candies and noticing it was as bitter as the New England winters she had become accustomed to, she guiltily disposed the entire box in her waste can.
{indent)One dozen flawless yellow roses, ready to greet her morning entrance, were placed on her desk in year two. Even Becca had to admit they were gorgeous but the discussion of roses never cropped up between her and her boss. If it had, Peter Wilkenson would have known Rebecca Cole was allergic to that particular flower. A box of tissues to help Becca’s watering eyes and continual sneezing was positioned in front of her before Peter chivalrously removed them from her desk and set the vase on the floor outside the office.
         Unluckily, year three involved Becca’s other allergy. Peter had surprised Becca with a lunch at one of Boston’s finest restaurants serving prime shellfish. Shellfish was her other taboo. Thankfully, an order of chicken fingers off the children’s menu saved her from yet another horrible reaction.
         By the time year four arrived, the idea of food or flowers had been cast by the wayside. Peter invited Becca to join him at a musical playing in the heart of the city. Excited not only by accompanying Peter on a formal date, the show he selected was one she was anxious to see. He picked her up at her apartment, escorted her to his car and even teased her when she refused to sit closer to him. The night started wonderfully, down to the sporadic glances toward one another until the unimaginable happened. The automobile ride was beginning to get rougher, usually signifying a problem...the time-consuming flat tire. Essentially, there would be no problem in changing the tire if Peter had remembered to retrieve the fixed spare at the service station from the last time the tire went flat. Between waiting for the auto club to appear and the time spent having the tire repaired, close to two hours had been wasted. The special evening ended up with Becca and Peter laughing over the entire night’s fiasco in the parking lot of a fast food franchise while enjoying two cheeseburgers and a large order of onion rings.
{indent)It was now year five and Becca finally admitted she appreciated his latest gift. Although Peter had fervently tried to present her with countless surprises through the years, Becca merely wanted to ask him to her apartment, prepare an elaborate dinner and hope he would finally lower his defenses, take her in his arms and kiss her with force and desire. If wishes did come true, the rest of the evening would lead to what she had dreamed of for years. Odds showed no significant other in his life. That kind of information would have mentioned it to her at some point during the time she worked for him, wouldn’t it? Then there was the possibility he spared his indispensable secretary from any personal details.

         Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Peter entering the office.
         “Good morning, Becca. It was a relief your gift arrived late last night. How do you like it?” Peter asked.
         “I love it!” Becca answered. “This chair makes me feel like royalty.”
         A loud whoosh of relief was emitted from Peter. “You deserve it after years of my disastrous bombshells. I finally found the perfect gift.”
         Becca rose from her new chair and walked to Peter, brushing her hand against his arm and lightly brushing her lips to his cheek. He started to raise his hands but as a second thought quickly dropped them to his sides. Taking note of his uncertain move, she swiftly backed away.
         “Thank you,” she murmured.
         Peter continued to gaze at his secretary as he slowly moved toward her. “You’re welcome,” he answered while touching her upper arm lightly. “What would you say if...?”
         His words were interrupted when the door suddenly flew open and Peter’s old law school crony entered bellowing, “Good morning all!”
         Hiding his frustration, Peter turned and cordially acknowledged Charles’s unexpected visit. “Good morning, counselor. What brings you here so early?”
         Charles grinned as he looked at Becca and Peter. “I just wanted to check on Rebecca in case she needed a ride to the emergency room. It is Secretary’s Day and we all know she’s been at the mercy of your surprises.” He started to laugh as he plopped down on the chair in front of Becca’s desk.
         Peter glanced first at Charles and then at his secretary before helplessly shaking his head. “I’ll be at my desk if either of you need anything.” He entered his office and quietly closed the door. Becca, on the other hand, glared at Charles.
         “Did you ever consider how mean your comments can be? What happened in the past was unintentional,” she admonished.
         Charles rolled his eyes before replying with barely a trace of remorse in his voice. “All right, I apologize to you and will also do so to Pete. Sooooo, what did you get from him this year?”
         Becca pointed to the new chair before answering, “Voila!”
         Another round of laughter followed. “A chair? How thoughtful, yet functional.” He grabbed Becca’s hand and looked into her eyes. “To be honest, I can say it’s a real beauty...just like you. How about joining me in a private romantic dinner tonight? We can make it a night to remember."
         Returning to her new seat, Becca opened her steno pad and smiled. “Charles, your little black book already looks like an unabridged version of War and Peace. It’s thoughtful of you to ask and believe me, I’m flattered but I’ll be here late tonight finishing some papers Pete needs for court tomorrow afternoon.”
         He silently watched Becca straighten her desk before finally speaking. “The size of my “little black book” doesn’t have anything to do with it, true? How long are you going to carry a torch for my old pal?”
         A mixture of surprise and guiltiness covered her face as she quickly looked up at Charles. “What’s gotten into you today? There’s another remark totally uncalled for.”
         “Maybe, but if it wasn’t true, you wouldn’t have gotten so mad I said it. Why don’t you just admit it to yourself and do something about it?”
         Avoiding his eyes, Becca busied herself in her desk drawer hoping the blush on her cheeks would not be too evident. “Charles, I have a lot to do today. Please?”
         “Suit yourself, sweetie. My offer will always remain open. You know where you can reach me,” he reminded her as he stood up. “I’m going to say farewell to Pete...and apologize,” he added when Becca looked up at him with her eyebrows raised.
         He walked to Peter’s office and entered with a smile. His friend glanced up from his writing and watched as Charles sat down in front of his desk.
         “First of all, I told Becca I’d apologize for my earlier statement,” started Charles, “as true as it was.” He grinned when Pete flashed him a dirty look. Undaunted, he continued. “Secondly, I wanted you to know she turned down my invitation for a night out on the town.”
         “I’ve always known my secretary was intelligent and had excellent taste,” replied Peter smugly.
         “No argument there and she’s quite attractive. You’d better do something about it before you lose her to someone else.” Charles pushed himself from Peter’s desk and stood. “You have my final warning, my old and fairly blind comrade. As for now, I bid you adieu. Talk to you soon, Pete.” With a salute to his friend, he left his office and ambled toward the entrance, stopping long enough at Becca’s desk to wish her a happy and safe Secretary’s Day.
         His friend’s parting remark made it virtually impossible to return his attention to work. Unable to concentrate, Peter threw his pen down on the legal pad, rested his head on the back of his chair and stared at the ceiling while contemplating Charles’s honest revelation. Treating Rebecca solely as an employee was getting more challenging as time went on. Camaraderie had entered into the working relationship and their chats were more open and honest than the majority of talks he had with most of his dates in the past. There had been several times, like today, Becca thanked him with a kiss on the cheek and his mind restrained him from grabbing her arms and pulling her closer, running his hands over every curve of her body before kissing her hard and deep. Thoughts of her lying next to him after hours of passionate love-making and catching a scent of the intoxicating perfume she applied to her throat haunted him more times than he wanted to admit.
         Out of the blue, he restlessly stood. 'I’m an upstanding lawyer and she’s my secretary,' he mused, 'not to mention a good friend. That line, in all good conscience, should NEVER be crossed and cause any kind of unwanted problems. I can’t start anything but I WANT to and I want her to feel the same way about me.' He drew in a shaky breath as he shook his arms. 'I have to get her out of my mind. Just concentrate, Peter Wilkenson, you’ve got more important things that have to be done.'

         Hours later, an exhausted Becca glanced at Peter’s desk clock before leaning back and stretching.
         “Come on Pete, we’ve written and rewritten both the deposition AND opening statement more times than usual. It’s close to eight and I’m totally worn out, not to mention starving. Is something bothering you?”
         He refused to look at her and continued checking details on his legal pad. Watching her stretch while pushing her hair away from her eyes was forcing him to lose focus and become uncommonly fidgety. He answered her quietly without looking up.
         “No, there’s nothing wrong and I know it’s getting late. I just want to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything.” He looked up at Becca and stifled a yawn. “How about we go over these statements tomorrow before I’m expected in court?”
         “Now that’s the smartest thing I’ve heard in hours,” answered a weary Becca. “Let’s call it a day or night or whatever. What would you say to driving me to my apartment and coming in for a sandwich? We’ll recheck all the work in the morning so you’re prepared before you leave. Sound good to you?” She sat quietly; optimistic he would accept her idea.
         To Peter, the suggestion sounded perfect yet he tried to decide in his own mind whether or not to accept her invitation. He vowed to stay on the “up-and-up” before answering. “Sounds great to me. We’ll finish then.”
         When Becca grabbed their jackets from the coat rack, she tossed Peter’s to him before slipping into her own.
         “Let’s go,” she called as she retrieved her purse. “I’ve got the keys.”
         After the lights were switched off and the office door locked, Peter met Becca in the hallway and held her elbow as he led the way to his car. Regrettably, they rode to Becca’s place in virtual silence. Puzzled by Peter’s uncharacteristic manner, Becca occasionally peeked in his direction, hopeful he would say something...anything explaining his sudden stillness. Determined to remain professional, Peter kept his eyes on the road and his face expressionless. Her apartment building loomed in distance before he said his first words.
         “Here we are,” he announced, “but I can’t stay long.”
         She glanced at her boss in exasperation before answering him aloofly. “Pete, I never expected you to. I’m well aware we have to be at the office early tomorrow.”
         As soon as the auto was parked, Becca swiftly exited and rushed to unlock the main entry to her building. She raced up the stairs and reached her apartment before Peter started to climb the stairwell. Finally arriving at her residence, he entered, then closed and locked the door. He took off his jacket, hung it on the back of one of Becca’s chairs and edgily called out to her.
         “Rebecca Cole, why didn’t you wait for me?”
         “Because, Peter Wilkenson, I’m trying to get everything ready. You’ve made it perfectly clear you couldn’t stay long.”
         “I would’ve given you a hand if you had just waited,” he said with frustration.
         “I can manage,” she replied shortly.
         Irritation was setting in as Peter watched Becca. “Okay, what’s wrong?”
         “No more than what’s wrong with you,” responded Becca. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder since we left our workplace. I only wanted to make things easier since we worked so late. I would hate myself if you thought I was wasting your precious time.”
         “Listen, your idea was thoughtful but don’t dictate to me what I’m thinking. I came, didn’t I?”
         “You sure did and it’s been a real pleasure having you and your unexpected mood swing here.”
         “Then maybe I should take my mood swing and leave.”
         “I’m not holding you back, counselor. You know where the door is.”
         A heated glare was directed in Rebecca’s direction before Peter stormed to the door, slamming it behind him. She looked at the door and angrily spun around, hitting the back of her hand on the corner of a table. She winced, looked her hand and noticed a bump beginning to rise between her first and second knuckle. Good, she decided, now I have a real reason to cry. She rubbed her hand and hurried to the bathroom to hold it under some cold water, all the time remembering to splash some on her face...especially if there were any remaining tears.
         Soon after jumping into the driver’s seat, Peter stared into the rearview mirror and cursed himself. He peered up at the light in Becca’s window and tried to sort out what had just happened. The entire incident was definitely not part of the fantasy he had envisioned for years. He slumped in the driver’s seat and reached into his jacket to retrieve his keys. A grimace covered his face when he remembered the keys were resting in his jacket pocket which was still hanging on the back of one of Becca’s chairs. Reluctant to spend the night in his car with a court date the following day, Peter resigned himself to returning to Becca’s place and humbly requesting his forgotten outerwear.
{indent)A glass of juice seemed like the perfect accompaniment to some quiet time as Becca fastened the cord around her bathrobe and shuffled back to the kitchen. Attempting to figure out why a ridiculous shouting match ensued between two good friends left her at a loss to even guess. Sensing Pete was unusually tense triggered her to feel likewise. An uncomfortable feeling penetrated her entire body hoping bad feelings would not prevail.
         When the doorbell unexpectedly rang, an unsuspecting Becca jumped before hurrying to the speaker. She pressed the button and tentatively answered, “Yes?”
         Her nerves relaxed when she heard a familiar voice. “It’s Pete, Becca. I left my jacket in your apartment.”
         She buzzed Peter in and then rushed to the chair to collect his jacket. Carefully draping it over her arm, she hurried to open the door.
         “Thanks,” he said as he reached for his jacket. “I guess I was rather thoughtless just storming out that way.”
         “Yeah, kinda,” answered Becca. She watched as he removed the jacket from her arm and guardedly looked at Peter. “You and I. No hard feelings?”
         He dropped his jacket on the floor and picked up the tie around Becca’s robe. Tenderly pulling her closer, Peter softly kissed her lips. He slowly untied the robe’s cord, slipped his hands inside and rested them around her waist. Peter Wilkenson finally held Rebecca Cole closer to his chest as they experienced a long-awaited and heartfelt embrace.
         “I remember reading an article about married couples fighting,” Peter said softly into her ear. “It stated the arguments were misdirected feelings of passion.”
         “Do you plan to correctly guide these emotions?” Becca asked with a slight smile on her lips.
         “Only if you want me to,” he answered. While placing a kiss on her throat, Peter caught the invigorating scent he had grown to love.
         “Now that sounds inviting,” Becca sighed. “Do you want me to help?”
         Peter took her hands in his. “No help will be needed. I’m the type of man that will ask for directions and I can assure you, Becca, I haven’t gotten lost yet.”
         Drawing her even closer, Peter gazed into her eyes and whispered “Happy Secretary’s Day Becca,” before the fiery kiss they both imagined at long last happened.