Secretary Andrew's Gets Invited To Dinner

They settled down for an early dinner in The Rolling Scones. A small cafe in a popular hub of restaurants. The place was quaint and soft with antique furniture and white and yellow linens. There was a babble of chatter; from groups of students strolling down the streets that leaked into the restaurant and the idle conversations of the patrons. It all mixed that to form a soothing white noise. Andrew returned from the bathroom and sat across Sir Allen.

"I ordered you a seafood pasta and a kiwi shake, is that alright?" said Sir Allen.

Andrew nodded, delighted with Sir Allen's choice. "Yeah, great actually. That's exactly what I wanted. How did you know?"

Sir Allen bent down his head and riffled through his open, occasionally glancing up at Andrew as he accounted his known observations. "I's certain you won't remember, but when we were dining at the Pacific Hotel. I noticed you were staring hard at the seafood meal., and that that you have ordered pasta multiple times on several business trips. As for the Kiwi, you like them, right? It's the first thing you eat in the morning. Outside or inside the office."

"Oh." Was all Andrew could articulate. There's just something about people remembering small details about you that just pinches your cheeks in a way unknown to Andrew. He felt a little warm on his cheeks. He cleared his throat and fumbled around.

"Oh, um. I like pasta. My favorite. I could eat any kind."

After a pause in the conversation, Sir Allen cleared his throat. "Don't be surprised that I know these details about you. You are my secretary after all. We have been together for six years."

"Well, you are a self-centered jerk-of-a-boss."

Sir Allen narrowed his eyes and raised his chin. "I'm just focused."

"And you don't care about your employees."

Sir Allen had the decency to look affronted. "I care about them...on the occasion. But I am self-aware that I don't they have social butterfly status of the office."

Andrew leaned back and sighed. "But everyone either hates you or is afraid of you. Or both."

Sir Allen puffed his chest and nodded once. "I don't care about how about people in the workplace see me as long as I bring results."

"And you shouldn't care about those people," said Andrew. "But you should care about what your own team thinks of you."

Sir Allen looked alarmed at Andrew's revelation. His forehead creased and his glared at the accusation implied. "Surely, it's not that bad. Yes, I can be ruthless at times, but it is all work."

Andrew's mouth was left agape. Andrew couldn't figure out how someone so smart could be so stupid. "They call you Satan's spawn. That's pretty telling if you ask me."

"It's normal to talk about your boss behind their backs."

"We don't even talk about you because it spoils our mood."

"I—"

"You made someone cry."

Sir Allen crossed his arms across his chest and had the gall to look sheepish about his bad choices in management as he asked, "You are not making this up?"

Andrew stared in astonishment. "You were there when she was crying. You told her to stop. So, you don't enjoy torturing your employees?"

"Of course not," Sir Allen mumbled. He groaned and slammed his head on the table, which made Andrew flinch. Sir Allen groaned some more.

Should Andrew comfort him? When Sir Allen had announced that he was self-aware, Andrew thought that Sir Allen would've known he was hated across the nation. Meaning the office.

There was a considerable pause in their conversation which Andrew didn't mind as he was used to it. He used the opportunity to slip the waitress a small shot of the tequila he stole and asked her to put it in his kiwi shake. Suddenly, Sir Allen shot up and declared, "I'll make this right. I will try to befriend my team before I leave."

"A little too late for that," Andrew mumbled. "You should loosen up a bit—here comes our food." He curled his pasta around his fork and offered it to Sir Allen. Andrew smiled at him and said, "Say ahh."

A visible flush crept on Sir Allen's cheeks. "It's embarrassing," he said. "No need for that."

Andrew wiggled his hand. "Come on. We're supposed to be a couple. Don't be shy and swallow it."

Sir Allen eyed him. He glanced at their sides as if to inspect if someone was watching. He cleared his throat. "Alright, alright," he mumbled. He leaned forward and ate the pasta on Andrew's fork. Andrew grinned at him.

A pair of police officers came inside the restaurants. The manager had approached them as their eyes scanned the restaurant. Andrew didn't mind them.

"This is going to be awesome," Andrew awed at his meal. But then, as he opened his mouth to welcome the scrumptious meal, he made eye contact with one of the officers. The officer glared in response. Andrew glared back. The officer brought out a piece of paper and his eyes darted from the photo to Andrew.

Andrew's mouth had become dry. He's been in this scenario a many times. He knew day drinking would get him into trouble someday. The officers headed their way.

Sir Allen finally noticed when the two officers towered over them. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He slowly rustled up a chocolate bar from his pocket and slid it atop the table. The police officer quirked his eyebrow at Sir Allen. The officer probably thought it was a bribe. The other officer, who was more menacing, held out the photo and stared at their uniforms.

"This is them alright," he said. "Same uniforms. Same disgusting mug." He glanced at Sir Allen at the last part.

"Allen Lopez, you're suspected of forcing an intoxicated minor into a motel. Please do not resist and come with us quietly."

"Minor?" Sir Allen objected. "The only person I've been with is Andrew."

"We've got our confession."

At that statement, everybody looked at Andrew. He smiled and chuckled, a little bit shyly. He couldn't deny that he was flattered to be mistaken as a minor. All those skin care regimes he faithfully followed had finally paid off. Apparently, the police officers had taken Andrew's chuckles and silence as an agreement to the crime accused of Sir Allen.

Sir Allen objected and wanted Andrew to speak up. Andrew pretended that the police has finally found Sir Allen guilty of corporate tyranny and sentenced him to prison.

Sir Allen behind bars is one of the things Andrew would like to witness before he leaves and pursues his dream.

Andrew whipped out his phone and recorded everything.