From hating his boss to fake dating him. What could go wrong?
Secretary Andrew is the perfect secretary. Intelligent, resourceful, and beloved by the employees. While his boss, Sir Allen-the CEO's son, is cold, anti-social, and has the emotional cap...
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Under the brilliant night sky, a more brilliant silver Lamborghini roared its way into the driveway of the Palace Hotel. Heads of bystanders turned, and hotel staff perked up from their spots, eager for a tip.
The driver's seat slid upward, and Andrew stepped out decked in a thick, giant, black fur coat and lavish accessories. He lobbed the keys high in the air to the Valet without sparing a glance and linked his arm to Sir Allen who stepped out from the driver's seat. He came off as a mafia drug lord in his shades and their couple butterfly earrings.
-~-~-
This morning In a jewelry store, while searching for the loudest accessories available. Andrew had asked Sir Allen. "Now that you're dedicated to being a rebel and all. And you finally have that tattoo like a gangsta. Is there anything else you've always wanted to do but couldn't?"
Sir Allen contemplated. "I have always played around with the idea of having my ears pierced."
Andrew gasped and his face lit up in delight. "Me too! I've always wanted to do it. But I haven't had the chance because you must wear it for a couple of days, and someone keeps interrupting my extended leaves."
"And that someone will buy you your first diamond."
"Apology accepted. Now, someone ring up these shiny butterfly studs, so my hubby and I can get couples piercing."
-~-~-
More heads turned as the duo crossed the hotel lobby and sauntered up to the elevator. Andrew handed over a hundred pesos bill to the elevator concierge and said, "Roof deck, please."
As the elevator went up, Andrew whispered to Sir Allen. "Remember, act like you're a spoiled kid in college who's being a rebel just for kicks, except your way richer and healthier than your peers, so harmful activities are nothing to you. Remember you have to be a disappointment."
"Why are your examples always so specific."
"You trained me to be that way."
"Touché."
The elevator doors slid open and the pair stepped out into a lavish restaurant. The soft yellow lights from the lamps gave a film of luminescence for the whole interior. The music from the string quartet was accompanied by the mellow murmurs of the diners in their suits and evening dresses. Needless to say, their heads turned on the arrival of the flamboyant couple with loud but branded outfits.
A receptionist approached them. Andrew nudged Sir Allen with his elbow. He cleared his throat.
"Yes, dear. Remember these faces, remember these clothes, because we don't wait for anybody but ourselves...And yes we do have reservations under Lopez for five."
Andrew shook his head, disappointed at Sir Allen's weak portrayal of a rude customer. You would think that a man who could make his employees cry with a glare could muster up some rudeness for his benefit.
