Music: Mistake - SNSD

I’m distracted by a ringing. The red light on my desk phone flashes until I pick up the receiver.

“Hello, Silver Sea Corporations. How may I help you?”

A warm, husky yet feminine voice greets me at the other end of the line. “Tiffany!” I recognize it immediately, and faint apprehension nudges the back of my mind.

“Hyoyeon? Did you dial the wrong extension?”

I hear a chuckle. “No, I didn’t. I’ve already tried calling Hyukjae’s cell and work phone, but my doofus fiancée didn’t pick up.” Her voice has a charming quality to it- one that draws you in and keeps a hold on you. Any person would agree that it’s likeable, but it brings me a tint of guilt.

“Oh,” I mumble, not really sure what to say next. A conversation with my boss’s romantic partner is always uncomfortable, even if she seems to put a lot of effort into being friendly. “So what did you need?” Seeing how Hyoyeon was a kind person, I decided I should react in the same cordial tone she extended to me.

“Could you just tell him to call me back as soon as he can?” Before I can even say yes, she cuts me off. “Thanks, Tiffany. You’re awesome! I can see why Hyukjae speaks of you so highly.” The click signifies the end of the call.

I stand up without thinking, and my legs move mechanically to the grand door behind me. Popping through the doorway of his office, I force myself to say the words before I can stop or second-guess myself. “Mr. Hyukjae, your fiancé would like you to call her,” I call out.

My boss doesn’t seem to hear me. His hands are rummaging through his desk, patting his pockets, shuffling through papers. “I heard my cell ring,” he says, “but couldn’t find it.”

Curious, I asked about his work phone.

“It hasn’t gone off all day,” he laments, never ceasing his hunt.

I contain a sigh, but a smile makes its way across my face. Typical Hyukjae, always losing his things. After being his secretary for quite some time, I’ve grown used to his dysfunctional ways, even coming to thrive off of it. I guess we are good foils for each other- me with my organization and prudent judgment, and him with his spontaneity and outbursts of brilliance.

I trot over to help him search and immediately spot the mobile phone lying on the ground by a desk leg. “There it is,” I point before quickly deciding to bend over and pick it up myself. While my face is pointed towards the ground, I notice that my boss’s telephone cord has been unplugged. I plug it back in, then grab the phone and straighten up. “Here you go, Mr. Hyukjae!” I beam and hand him the cell. “I’ve also fixed the problem of your silent desk phone. You should be getting calls now.”

I can see that my words have a positive effect on him. His body relaxes, and a small relieved smile appears. He takes the phone from my fingers and thanks me. “You’re just perfect.” he says unexpectedly. “You’re the perfect secretary, you know that?” His expression reflects the truth put into the statement. The praise continues. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Tiffany.”

“No problem,” I wave his comment away. “Now please talk to Hyoyeon; she’s waiting for your call.” My mouth stays frozen, but I end up feeling like that large forest monster with the not-so-genuine smile. Totoro, as my friends called it.

I leave him alone to his phone call, walking back to my desk with a heavy heart.

A secretary. His words echo in my ears. I may be perfect, but I’m still just a secretary.

Sitting back in front of the computer, I chide myself for feeling this self-pity. Who am I, thinking about crawling into Hyukjae’s life when he clearly already has someone else? There is no reason for me to even be thinking this much about my little schoolgirl infatuation.

Reinforcing that last thought, I push my focus back onto work, and only work. No other thoughts allowed in my brain, I am 100% into filing staff reports, sending emails, scheduling meetings. I’m on a roll when an interruption causes me to stop.

“Goodness, Fany!” Another lesser executive’s secretary, Sooyoung, comes over to me. “I saw you doing your thing back there in Mr. Hyukjae’s office,” she giggles.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, not really sure what she means by ‘thing’.

“When you bent over to pick up that pencil or phone or something,” she explains. “The boss totally got a good look at your .” She winks and then smirks at me, her eyes appraising me from head to toe.

“What? Stop it, Sooyoung,” I tell her tiredly. I’m sure she’s only teasing me. She usually does so, and for some reason, I still consider her a friend.

“Fany, don’t act like you’re so innocent. That tight little skirt you’re wearing clearly emphasizes your booty!” The receptionist squeals and I shush her, wondering if the whole office can hear our conversation.

I don’t know how to react to her claims. Although her notions certainly aren’t true, I feel like anything I say will be twisted into some attention-seeking intention. My mouth shuts up, and I become a like a clam, refusing to speak any more on the matter.

When she realizes I’ve given up responding, Sooyoung surrenders her goading and walks away. “Geez, Fany. Don't be so butthurt about it.” She throws out one more thing before leaving. The words that come out of make me think that she’s actually trying to make amends. “You’ve got brains, a calm attitude, and that huge ‘asset’. You’re every man’s dream woman; No wonder Mr. Hyukjae and everyone else call you the perfect secretary.” I’m left staring at her retreating back.

“He doesn’t think I’m perfect because of my looks,” I chuckle. Hyukjae is a man who looks at the complete beauty of people, inside and out. I glance back through the doorway behind me. He’s in there, pacing around the room. He can’t keep the gummy smile off of his face. His cheeks are lit up; His eyes crinkled into incredulous yet mirth-filled crescents. He looks utterly and completely ecstatic with a phone pressed against his ear. 

Something heavy falls in my chest, and a lump sprouts in my throat.

I’ve seen that look on him a million times. Each time he talks to Hyoyeon while at work, he becomes light on his toes; he gets a spring in his step. He always gives a much more elated reaction when talking to her over a phone than he does while talking to me, in person. Of course, that’s probably why she’s his fiancée and I’m just the secretary, but I can’t ever help feeling a little bitter.

But as the Tiffany Hyukjae knows and has grown accustomed to, I conceal my jealousy underneath layers and layers of bubbly laughs, corny jokes, and signature eye-smiles.

I don’t look back at my boss until I hear his feet walk towards the open door between our work spaces. “Tiffany,” he calls. He’s done talking on the phone and has returned to his usual office manner. “Can you remind me that I have a date with Hyoyeon at 7?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Hyukjae!” I pretend to write it down on a notepad, while it’s really already burned into my brain. He gives me a thumbs up, and then goes back to attend to whatever business he’s dealing with at the moment.

I resume working, but I can’t even put 5% of my attention into typing anymore. All these questions swirl around inside my head. Like, where are Hyukjae and Hyoyeon going to dinner? Does she really make him that happy? Why does he act differently when he talks to Hyoyeon?

And, before I can stop it from coming, a taboo thought arises.

Will he ever act that way around me?