Music: All My Love Is For You - Shoujo Jidai

I walk out of the elevator doors and into the office at an exhausting five-thirty AM, my hair pulled back into a routine ponytail- high and slick. A small black portfolio folder sits in the crook of my arm, and in my hands are two cardboard cups of warm coffee.

The lobby is quiet, only a few workers scattered here and there. I walk directly to my work area in the far corner, dropping off the folder at my small glass-top desk before walking through the door located to the right and behind it.

“Good morning, Mr. Hyukjae!” I call out with sunny enthusiasm and beam, peering at my boss through squinted eye-smiles.

He’s slouching in his black leather office swivel chair, the sleep still apparent in his eyes. But as soon as I hold out one of the beverages in my hand, he perks up a bit and eagerly takes it, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he swallows.

“Ah. Thanks a lot, Tiffany. That was just what I needed today.” He gives me a grin, showing off pearly white teeth rimmed with fleshy pink gums.

“It’s what you need every day, Mr. Hyukjae,” I playfully answer, but soon get back to business. “Now here is an agenda of things that must be completed today.” I hand him a thin packet of crisp white printer paper. “Remember you have a meeting at 2. I’ll remind you a half hour before,” I cut him off before he can ask me. I’ve become so used to working for the man, I can already predict, and satisfy, his needs.

However, there are always times where he can still surprise me. “It may be the caffeine speaking, but you look prettier this morning, Tiffany.” He disregards everything I just said and gazes at me with his moony brown eyes.

My eyebrows raise a fraction of a centimeter, and I struggle to come up with a proper response. It’s one of the few times I’m at a loss for words.

“Is it because you’re in love?” he asks. My breath catches, I can’t breathe- that is, until I see the toothy grin written across Hyukjae’s face.

“It’s nice you think that, Mr. Hyukjae, but I’m not even in a relationship at the moment, let alone in love.” I outwardly smile as I inwardly sigh, relieved to have evaded the question so smoothly.

“Are you sure?” He blinks, his voice is skeptical. I almost giggle at his persistence. “Well, you definitely deserve someone to treat you right.” Another grin.

My heart skips a beat. My brain sensibly knows Hyukjae is probably saying so as a concerned acquaintence, but my body hopes for something different, something more.

Before I can get my hopes up too high, I force myself to make an exit. “Thank you, sir.” I begin backing out of the room. He makes a face at the use of the too formal “sir”, wanting that I rather use his name like a friend.

“Call me Hyukjae, Tiffany. No mister, and definitely no sir. We’re pals, right?”

“Sure thing, Hyukjae,” I make a point to smile as I leave his office. When I turn around so that he can only see my back, I mumble under my breath, “Mister Hyukjae.”

I can’t let the informality between us get to my head. As his secretary, I have to stay in proper manner and be professional around the office. No calling out first names like we are more than colleagues. No emphasizing our nonexistent special bond as if we are lovers. We are not.

I’m just his secretary.

As soon as I get back to my work area, I slump onto the grey computer swivel chair located behind my desk. My back slouches, sliding downwards, and my body ends up in the most unladylike pose. It is a moment of carelessness, and the other receptionists in the lobby stare, unused to seeing me in such a sloppy state.

I shoot back up into a better position, sitting on the very edge of the seat and straightening my back. My fingers, ready to type, automatically hover above the keyboard of the chunky computer on my desk.

Turning my head slightly to the left, I start recording financial data and meeting notes into the computer. Typing has always been an easy task for me, only requiring half of my attention. The other half goes into thinking about various things, whatever is on my mind. Today, like many other days, I’m mulling over the predicament I have concerning Mr. Hyukjae.

I’m not sure when I first started having these feelings for my boss. Maybe it was the time I realized how silly he could be, always managing to make me laugh or smile. Or maybe it was the time he showed his talent for making others feel good about themselves, encouraging the whole office with rousing pep talks and freely throwing out compliments. Nowadays, I often find myself taking pride whenever someone spread good words about Hyukjae, and getting slightly peeved when they spread the opposite. I’ve grown to enjoy every aspect of his personality, ranging from his trivial trash can basketball skills to his stinginess concerning the money in his wallet. To me, there are no bad parts of Hyukjae. They are all just parts of Hyukjae I love.

A slight frown appears on my face as I continue to type and think.

No, I don’t love him. I love his personality, and I love his character, but there’s no way on earth that I love Hyukjae. I’m convinced that it’s all just hormones, that I’m just fond of him as a long-time co-worker. Captivated by him, at the most. Nothing more can ever result from such little feelings. Nothing as strong as love.

Besides, such a relationship would be weird; uncomfortable at the least. Workplace lovers aren’t forbidden, but are looked down upon as distracting and unnecessary. I agree. Dating my boss is the last thing I need in this job. It just isn’t professional; it’s not fitting of a proper secretary.

And even if I do happen to want to pursue Hyukjae, business isn’t the only thing in the way.