My Boss's Toy

Chapter 1

Life was going pretty well for me, one might say. I had a good job, a brand-new car, a great fiance, and I had recently moved into a new place with him as well. Everything seemed to be on track. I had worked hard all of my life and while my hard work had not earned me everything, it was a great start. My fiance was well off and he enjoyed spoiling me from time to time. His job paid far more than mine, but he never seemed to mind.

As a secretary, my day was usually filled with calls and paperwork. Very rarely was I ever needed to fetch coffee or run errands, we had people for that. I was the hub at the office for getting in touch with the boss. I saw a lot of things and I kept my head down as I was trained to do. The secretary knew more than people thought we did. It came with perks, of course, but it also meant we were first on the chopping block for any mistakes. I always made sure to cover everything on my own end, so my name was never on the blame list.

My long black hair was kept up in a tight bun as usual as I worked on my computer. I had a few things to type up for the boss that I was getting through. Today was a slow day so I had plenty of time. I pushed my work glasses up my nose as they slipped. I didn't need them to see, but I had learned that being an attractive woman was a hindrance in some cases. The glasses made me more approachable. I also kept my uniform to a pantsuit rather than a skirt or anything lowcut. Professionalism was the most important thing.

"Kifahari, come in here please." The intercom buzzed to life with my boss's voice. Unsure of what he might need, I saved my work and closed the program in case I was away from my desk too long. I grabbed my notepad and made my way into the office behind me, my heels clicking softly against the wooden floor.

"Yes sir?" I asked as I stopped near his desk, not even bothering to look at the seats in the room. My boss frowned deeply at me. He was an older gentleman who had the start of grey hair peeking through his brown locks. He was always nice to me. He gestured to one of the seats.

"I think you should sit down for this," he said simply. I furrowed my brow as I took a seat. I crossed my ankles despite the pants and waited. "I'm gonna have to let you go." I felt shock wash through me all at once.

"Why so suddenly?" I asked, trying to keep my professional tone.

"My wife thinks we are sleeping together." I felt like the wind got knocked out of me all at once. I'm sorry. What!?

"Did you tell her that we are not?" He frowned deeply and I could almost read his expression. He had. She didn't believe him. I sighed harshly. I knew he was having an affair, but it wasn't with me. It was hard to miss when a co-worker would come to see him during lunch and leave looking a little worse for wear.

"Look, you do an amazing job, but if she starts digging she is gonna find out about Sam. So I have to let you go and get a male secretary to get her to back off." You mean so she didn't find out about your multiple affairs over the years with girls just like Sam. "Look Kifa, I really-"

"I asked you not to call me that," I said, cutting him off. Normally, I wouldn't be so rude but he was firing me right now. I didn't let just anybody use that nickname. I stood from my seat. "I shall pack up my desk then." As I turned to leave, I heard him stand from his desk.

"If you keep Sam to yourself, I will give you a bonus on your last check and will send your resume out to any company you want." I froze in my tracks for a moment. That was essentially blackmail. Yet what choice did I have? Getting a good job like this was hard. I frowned deeply.

"I won't say a word," I said to him over my shoulder. Good luck keeping the new guy quiet though, I thought.

"Leave a list and I will send it out with my seal of approval." That wouldn't get me too far, but it was better than nothing. I packed up the small amount of personal things at my desk and left a note with my login for my replacement. It would need to be changed anyway.

Leaving the building with my purse full of things from my desk, I felt a sense of shame. I had never been fired before. I sighed as I climbed into my car and drove home. When I saw my fiance's car parked in his space, I groaned softly. Great. Now I had to tell him right now. As I opened the door, I was met by my fiance standing frozen halfway between the kitchen and the living room. He was holding a bowl of chips and I could hear a movie playing on the TV.

"Kifa, what are you doing at home?" He said with pure bewilderment. I sighed and put my purse down. I took a chip from the bowl.

"I got fired," I said, and ate the chip. His eyes went wide as he struggled to compute this information. Atticus Marchetti had never been fired either. His family had instilled a hard-working attitude into him from a young age. Outside of work, he was a huge softy who enjoyed romantic comedies like the movie currently playing on our TV. He was taller than me, but most men were when I was only five foot three in one-inch heels. He set the bowl down on the counter and ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair. His brown eyes filled with empathy.

"Are you ok?" He asked as he reached forward to take both of my hands. I smiled at his kind words. He always put me first.

"I'll be alright. Nothing I can do about it now. Gotta look for a new place to hire me." I shrugged softly. I was sure the emotion of it would hit me later, but right now I was in such shock and betrayal I couldn't get upset over it. Atticus frowned deeply.

"That's it. I am taking you to the spa. You need it today." I wanted to argue as he grabbed the remote to turn off the movie, but he was already escorting me from the house. I shook my head softly as he opened the door to his convertible for me. I reached up and pulled my hair out of the bun and placed the hairpins in my purse. He smiled as he pulled out of the parking space. "You get a massage and I will make a phone call. It's on me today. A special treat for my favorite girl." He reached over and squeezed my hand lightly as he drove. He was so good to me.