The Perfect Secretary
Keywords: The, Secretary, Perfect,
1 2 3 4 5 Next
"Cissy, would you bring in the projected revenues on the Enchante line, please?"
"In a minute, Ms. Fontaine. They're coming off the LaserJet right now."
I reached over and withdrew the reports from the output stacker. The stark, white paper was a contrast to my long, slender fingers with their ultra-long, crimson nails. I patted an errant lock of my full, fluffy, golden-blonde mane back in place, checked my make-up in the desk-drawer mirror, then strode into my boss's office with short, delicate steps, full breasts jiggling freely within a low-cut silk blouse, which I had purposely left open to the third button. My full, rounded hips undulated smoothly within the confinement of a slim, hobbling skirt. I was aware of the soft, sensuous rustle of my satin-and-lace slip as I moved. As the Personal Secretary to the CEO of l'Audace Cosmetics, I am expected to look, and act, like Femininity, personified; Ms. Fontaine insists on it.
"Close the door, Cissy."
I did so, and stood expectantly before my boss. To call Mimi Fontaine beautiful is to call the Grand Canyon a hole in the ground. She took my breath away the first time I saw her, and every time since. She stood, and walked around her desk to stand in front of me. Even in my five-inch spike heels, I was conscious of having to look up to her, perched regally on her own skyscraper stilettos.
She took the reports from my hand and placed them casually on her desk, then took me in her arms and kissed me passionately. I yielded willingly to her advances, closing my eyes with a sigh and placing my hands lightly on her shoulders. I adore being ravished by my lover this way. I find it sinfully exciting when she does so at the office, when anyone might walk in and catch us. I am always dress and make up for her as provocatively as I can; she loves her "little blonde bimbo". I know she will be watching, and wanting me. We have been playing this little game since the first day I came to work for her - as a woman.
Things could be worse. Really. At least, I have a job. In the past, most twenty-two-year-old college graduates thought that was a given. That was then; this in now. Most of my friends from the university are still sending resumes, filling out applications, and figuring out what this personnel director or that manager want to hear in an interview. Granted, I did not have this in mind while doing four years of straight-A work in Computer Science. In better times, I would have moved right into a Fortune-500 MIS organization, hopefully in Technical Services, at least in Applications Development. C.C. Brent, Software Engineer; Man on the Move. But these are not better times, and I needed a job.
Okay, l'Audace Cosmetics is not Fortune-500. But it is Fortune-1000, and on the way up. It has several well-known lines of cosmetics and fragrances, and has an extensive Biochemical Research and Development facility. I interviewed directly with the CEO and founder, Mimi Fontaine. The word is, she started the company with the money from her late-husband's life insurance. The company now has annual sales approaching thirty million dollars.
CEO's just don't come any smarter or savvier than Ms. Fontaine. Unlike other CEO's, Mimi Fontaine is also warm and personable, the kind of person you would want as a friend. She has created a progressive, innovative work environment to keep her mostly-female employees happy, with features such as job-sharing, child care, a company health club, even a full-service beauty salon which doubles as a 'test kitchen' for new products. Best-available data puts her in her mid-thirties (true), but she is one of those women who can truly be described as 'ageless', and probably will be for a long time to come. My interview was, to say the least, different. In the thirty seconds it took to walk from the reception area to Ms. Fontaine's office, I realized I was the only male in sight.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Brent. May I call you..."
"C.C. will be fine, thank you. I will NEVER forgive my father for sticking me with 'Calvin Coolidge'. He had a fascination for politicians who didn't say much; he called them a 'dying breed'. 'Silent Cal' was his kind of guy. It caused me no end of trouble when I was growing up. A small, slender boy with his mother's prominent cheekbones, delicate features, AND named Calvin? He might as well have painted a bull's eye on my forehead; I was the target for every schoolyard bully for fifty miles. Really, one of these days I am going to have it changed to something a little more prosaic - Millard Fillmore, perhaps."
The most wonderful sound in the world, with the possible exception of the words "you're hired", is the sound of Mimi Fontaine's laughter. It has a rich, warm, musical quality to it that makes you believe the world really is a pretty wonderful place. I was treated to that wonderful sound for a good sixty seconds, which is how long it took Ms. Fontaine to compose herself and dab away the tears from her eyes.
"I'm sorry, C.C. That was the best laugh I have had in years. I hope the girls didn't give you any 'cat calls' as you walked through the office. We don't have many men working here; mostly just in Shipping and Receiving and Maintenance. I don't specifically exclude men; that would be unconscionable as well as against the law. I pride myself on my policy of affirmative hiring practices, particularly women.
L'Audace is a rapidly-growing company. In fact, we have grown so rapidly that we have outgrown my ability to keep track of it all. I am desperate to find someone who can make some sense of the mass of data coming into my office. I need clear, concise, accurate reports, from which I can make my business decisions. I had envisioned hiring a personable, attractive young career woman to function as my Personal Secretary, one who fit the image of the chic-but-sexy 'Woman Of The Nineties' we target as our primary market, one who also had skills in programming, spreadsheets, and databases.
It appears that was not a very realistic goal. I have already gone through several who either misrepresented their credentials, weren't reliable, or ran off with their boyfriends. I was most impressed with your credentials. We don't often see Phi Beta Kappas here, especially for a position of this nature.
You have exactly the professional qualifications I am looking for - perhaps TOO good. I wouldn't embarrass you by calling you my 'secretary'. If I were to hire you, your title would be 'Personal Assistant', and I would get someone from Word Processing to do the clerical work. I'm inclined to give you the job for your sense of humor, if not your superior qualifications, but the fact is, you are over-qualified. I'm worried you will only stay until you can find something better, then leave me in the lurch."
I had to admit; that thought HAD crossed my mind. Title or no, I could do a lot more than be a glorified secretary. But I liked this woman immensely (yes, I was talking with my head, not my crotch), and I had heard horror stories about how cold and impersonal large corporations could be. And I really needed a job.
"Most of my friends will never MEET a CEO, let alone work closely with one. The chance to help make strategic plans that shape a company's future is an opportunity that happens once in a lifetime. I can't pass this up."
It wasn't really a lie. I did want the opportunity to start "at the top", working in the rarified air of the Executive Suite. It would be great experience, especially when the economy improved and the Big Boys came knocking at my door.
I was treated to that other wonderful sound a few minutes later. I got the job because I was qualified (and then some), because I was confident in my abilities - and because I made her laugh. She set me up in a small office down the hall from hers and made me promise - on pain of death or termination, whichever hurt more - that I would call her "Mimi" in private and save "Ms. Fontaine" for the outer office. That suited me just fine.
It only took a few weeks to map out and code the files and programs to give her all the information she required at the touch of a few keystrokes. Child's play, really - but no programmer worth his salt would ever admit that. Better to keep them in awe. After that, it was just a matter of feeding in data, cranking out reports and graphs, and working on special projects.
Much to my surprise and delight, I was readily accepted by the rest of the office staff. They enjoyed my whimsical sense of humor and outgoing personality and invited me to join them on breaks and lunches. In time, even the distinctions between our sexes became blurred; they would gossip with me about anything and everything. When they began to talk about boyfriends, husbands, or the hot new romances on the soap operas as though we were girls at a slumber party, I asked them if they weren't a little embarrassed talking to a man about things like that. "Oh, don't be a Poop, Cissy," teased Linda Kramer, the vivacious Accounts Receivable supervisor. I was perplexed and showed it.
"Cissy? Who is Cissy?"
"You are, Silly. 'C.C.' sounds too cold and impersonal. You are too much fun and MUCH too pretty for that! It just seems more natural to think of you as 'Cissy', a gorgeous girlfriend who dresses VERY badly. Really, you are wasted in that suit. You would be a knockout in a skirt and heels."
Naomi Randall, the Office Manager, added her two cents' worth.
"You certainly would. Just let that beautiful blonde hair grow a bit more, so we can style it for you, then we add a little make-up and voila; you would make an ADORABLE girl!"
I knew when I was out-gunned. I guess other men would have felt threatened by such good-natured teasing of their masculinity. I am not 'other men'. First, I don't take myself or my 'masculinity' that seriously. Second, I perceived no malice in their banter. They were right about one thing; I was having way too much fun with this.
"Well, we shouldn't let a little thing like a penis get in the way of true friendship.
1 2 3 4 5 Next
Keywords: The, Secretary, Perfect,