Having an Affair with Your Rich Boss? Here’s What Happens When Everyone Finds Out: Part 2

high_end_dating_august4_13I hung up the phone with Mr. Brown and headed to the HR office to deny our rela­tion­ship. As I walked through the office, I could tell by some of the looks I was get­ting that peo­ple knew exactly where I was going. I ignored the stares and whis­pers and headed into the HR manager’s office. Mrs. Roberts saw me com­ing and offered me a seat.

As I sat down, she walked around me to shut the door and I got a good look at her. For a woman in her late 40s she looked great for her age—a trim fig­ure, long red­dish brown hair, and great skin. She looked far younger than she really was. I had worked at the firm for a while, but never really talked to her. She sat back down at her desk and pulled out a folder. She told me that it was my employee file and that she wanted to talk to me about some office gos­sip. I looked at her, smiled, and told her to ask away.

She flipped through the pages in my file and, with­out even look­ing up, she blurted out, “So, you and Mr. Brown are an item now, huh?” I looked and her and chuck­led, try­ing not to look too ner­vous. I told her exactly what Mr. Brown had instructed me to, that I was over at his house to help take care of his wife. After all, I was his assis­tant and it was my job to do things that he asked me to do. She then asked, “Does that include him?” I was flabbergasted—what was I sup­posed to say? That he was my lover and my boss? His wife was aware of our rela­tion­ship, but it was sup­posed to remain a secret due to her will and the money that was to be left to him upon her death.

My eyes averted hers; she knew I was try­ing to avoid eye con­tact. I told her that it was strictly pro­fes­sional. She put my file down and moved from her chair to the desk. She asked me if Mr. Brown had ever men­tioned her. Of course he had, she was his HR direc­tor. I said yes, fre­quently, because of work. She laughed and told me I was not the only girl in the office that Mr. Brown has messed around with. She explained that a few years back, she and Mr. Brown had fooled around for a while. She told me that they were pretty seri­ous and that he was sup­posed to leave his wife for her.

Mrs. Roberts then rat­tled down the list of gifts that he had bought for her—purses, designer dresses, and the yel­low canary pen­dant she was wear­ing, which was obvi­ously an expen­sive piece of jew­elry. The neck­lace alone had to be worth at least $10,000. I felt a tinge of jeal­ousy. How had I been here so long and never known about it? She kept talk­ing about all of her extrav­a­gant gifts—the trips, salon vis­its, and then, of course, the Volvo she drove. It was a few years old at this point, but still beautiful.

I shot her a look of anger. What could I really say? Mr. Brown had a lot of power at the firm, but this was the HR direc­tor. She could fire me for any­thing really, and I would need the ref­er­ence from the com­pany if I ever left vol­un­tar­ily. What was I sup­posed to do? I sat there think­ing about what I would say next. But what I ended up doing came as a sur­prise, even to me.

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