Morning in the office

“Mr. Wilson?”

I looked up at the timid voice, seeing Miss Wade in the doorway of my office, her red hair brushed back and hanging loose about her shoulders, today wearing a white button-down blouse – this one a three-quarter sleeve compared to yesterday’s full-sleeve – and a charcoal-gray pleated pencil skirt. Her blouse was also thinner than yesterdays, enough that fluorescent lights in the ceiling behind her revealed the lack of a bra strap underneath.

“Can I – may we – talk?” she asked nervously.

“Please, come in,” I nodded. The redhead stepped in my office, closing the door behind her, and sat down in one the chairs across from me.

Before the secretary could speak, I said, “I would like to apologize for last night, Miss Wade. Sometimes – most of the time really – I am too focused on my work that I forget to take into account the needs of others. I should have done a better job of listening to you and not put you through that piece of hell that I did. I did not mean to be an ass, but – I was. I know I sounded if I was testing you, but I was not. I was being insensitive, an idiot, and a fool. Were I a lesser man –” I wanted to say Ken’s name. “– I would have taken advantage of you and hurt you more than you have been already. What your last boss did to you is – unconscionable. We cannot tolerate such behavior here in this company. Had I acted improperly, I would deserve the every punishment the law can hand down. I am not just saying this, Miss Wade. I did not talk to Legal. These are my own words, my apology.”

“I –” the green-eyed woman blinked, taken aback. “I – thank you, sir. I wanted to – to apologize as well. I was angry and – and –”

“****?” I offered. She nodded. “I understand. I had a talk with Mrs. Mitchell as soon as she came in. She has a better understanding of the Equal Employment regulations now and she should apply them better throughout the company. However, if you feel she starts to retaliate against you – let me know immediately. I will back you up so long as your word is true.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary nodded. “We – talked – when I came in. She didn’t apologize, but she did say she should have taken my needs into consideration when giving me my – orders – for last night.”

“Sounds like Mrs. Mitchell. Terse, unyielding, and just a little flexible.”

“Ah, yes, sir,” she squirmed in her seat. “Also, about last night, what I said –”

“Think nothing of it,” I said. “It didn’t happen.”

“But – Mr. Wilson,” the redhead protested. “I shouldn’t have said those things, not to you! I was practically ordering you to – to –” She broke off, blushing loudly. “– I’m sorry, sir. You’re my boss. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that, trying to make you –” The secretary cut off again, looking down at her lap.

“You are not the man who took advantage of you,” I said. “We’re both adults, both conscious of the consequences of the decisions we make. You were reacting to an untenable situation not of your own construction. Mrs. Mitchell bears some responsibility for what occurred and she has received the talking to needed. I also bear responsibility for last night for pushing you further into that dark corner. I’ve been beating myself up about it all night.” As well as thinking about it in the other ****, the redheaded secretary bent over my desk and at my mercy. “I do not consider myself chastised for my behavior but I am sorry for what I did.”

“Mr. Wilson,” she began in a soft voice, nearly indiscernible, “I’m sorry for pushing you like I did. Part of me – part of me –” Her voice shook. “– Part of me wanted it. It’s – been a long time and – not many men – are interested in a woman with a child.”

“It’s not your fault, Miss Wade,” I said, hoping my tone was comforting. The secretary sat there, staring at her hands, sniffling. I stood up, walked around the desk to her. She looked up at me, small tears falling from her emerald eyes. I took her shoulders in my hands and led her to her feet, wrapping my arms around and holding the woman close, and whispered into her ear, “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”

The redheaded secretary shuddered in my grasp, sobbing into my chest.

“It is,” she wept. “It really is. If I hadn’t have been so stupid, I would never have put myself into this situation.”

Ah, I thought.

“Do you love your daughter?” I asked softly.

“With all my heart,” the emerald-eyed secretary said.

“Do you blame her?”

“No, absolutely not!” she gasped, lifting her head away from my chest and looking up into my face. “She’s my angel!”

“Then stop blaming yourself,” I said, gazing into those round, green orbs. “Don’t let that bastard make you regret your choices. Stand up tall. Take pride in your life, your family. You’ve made it your priority. Look at me. All I have is my work. I’ve let life pass me by and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. You have more than I probably ever will, Miss Wade. Don’t give up what you have, okay?”

“Okay,” she sniffled, resting her head against my shoulder, reaching up and wrapping her arms around me. My eyebrows rose, seeing the small, tender smile on her face, her fine lashes studded with her tears. How long we stood there like that, arm in arm, I don’t know, but if it hadn’t been for the damn phone suddenly ringing…

“Oh!” Miss Wade gasped, jerking out of my grasp. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson! I should – I should get back to work.”

“Take a moment to wipe those tears away,” I said, reaching for the phone. “Let’s not cause any more gossip around here than we need to.”

“Yes, sir,” she smiled, blushing softly.

“Yes?” I turned my attention to the phone as the secretary grabbed a tissue from my desk. My face darkened at the news on the other end, an ugly scowl crossing my face. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Miss Wade’s jaw fall in shock.

“Dammit,” I cursed, slamming the phone down with a crash.

“Mr. Wilson, what –” Her green eyes widened.

“That was Little Miss Perfect’s secretary,” I growled. “Apparently the numbers from her department are off big-time and she approved them, the idiot. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, I fucking swear. Little tramp expects to just go with the flow because she’s Ken’s daughter.” I walked back around my desk.

“Mr. Wilson!” Miss Wade gasped.

“I’m sorry about my language,” I shook my head in exasperation, sitting down. “But you didn’t hear a word of that.”

“I – yes, sir. Of course, sir,” she bobbed her head. I looked at her, unable to see any remaining damage on her face. One of the things I liked about the redhead was her lack of makeup.

“You look good,” I said. “We should be safe from causing any scenes. If anyone asks – tell them whatever you feel is appropriate. Just be sure to let me know what in case I get questioned.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary stepped towards the door.

“And call Miss Weissbrodt, summoning her to my office. The twit doesn’t take my calls, even if left with her secretary. If she doesn’t respond in half an hour, tell Mrs. Mitchell to light a fire under her ass.”

“Yes, sir, I will,” she agreed, hand on the doorknob.

“And Miss Wade?”

“Yes, sir?” the secretary looked over her shoulder at him.

“Call me George. This is the twentieth-first century and I am not God on high.”

The redhead blinked at me for a moment and, with a short giggle, walked out of my office.