What Really Happens Between the Young Secretary and Her Hot Older Boss at Work: Part 1

I had been work­ing at my new job as a sec­re­tary for a cou­ple of months. Think­ing that I had seen just about every­one in the com­pany, I was shocked when a hand­some face with a debonair smile caught me read­ing a romance novel, and right when I was really get­ting into the steamy part.

Hav­ing intro­duced us both, the other recep­tion­ist, Joanne, for­got to men­tion the woman by the man’s side, Becky, another unfa­mil­iar face who was quick to point out my age. Hav­ing admit­ted that I was only 19, Becky smiled and said sar­cas­ti­cally, “Oh, you look like you just turned 16. What’s your secret?”

Whether or not that was true, it felt as if she was mak­ing a jab at my age on pur­pose. I imme­di­ately got the sense that there was some­thing between her and the hand­some older man, whose name was Bran­don. Bran­don looked like your typ­i­cal arro­gant bad-boy, and walked like he was God’s gift to women. But I can’t lie, it was highly attrac­tive. He was highly attractive.

As I watched Becky walk over to Bran­don, who was the cof­fee pot nearby, like a lost puppy dog, I took in her appear­ance.  She was shorter than Bran­don, but a lit­tle taller than me and wore the image of a rocker chick, try­ing to hide her real age behind pounds of makeup. Together, they looked like they would be involved in some sort of office romance, even though Becky was obvi­ously the older one.

She clearly had a thing for Bran­don, so this led me to the assump­tion that she made the com­ment about my youth­ful looks out of jeal­ousy. Being insulted about my age was some­thing that I was used to, but I didn’t like the fact that it was done in front of such a good-looking man. And I couldn’t resist the urge to give her a taste of her own medicine.

Yeah, it’s prob­a­bly a good thing though. That means when I get older I’ll look younger than what I really am,” I replied. Becky dropped her packet of sugar. Bran­don smiled and before Becky could make a clever remark back, he said, “Well then that means you’re at least over 18. What are you doing after work?” he smiled at me as he made his way back to the counter in front of my desk. He had put down his mug on the counter and rested his chin on his palm wait­ing for my answer…