Temporary Secretary

Part 14

Man that is a lovely photo. How I wish he were my tradwife. I'd work long hours in the factory to come home to him~ yeah baby

29 December 1980

Monday 4:00pm

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The week of the twenty-second, you'd gotten off work early Christmas eve, traveling west to Windsor afterward to spend Christmas Day with your father. On Friday afternoon, you returned to the office, making the workweek a rather brief one.

It would be similar this week too. You'd work until Wednesday the 31st, New Years Eve, once again ending early in the afternoon, then finally pick back up the following Monday, January the 5th.

This all meant, you would have another substantial break.

You came into Paul's office today with his afternoon tea, opening the door with your hip, then setting the tray down on his desk.

As you began to pour him a cup, Paul watched you pour in a pleasant manner, tapping his pen on his notes, and looking up at you.

When you finished, Paul opened his mouth to speak.

"How about a sit down?" he said.

Paul looked at you suggestively, his seat tilted so that his leg was present. He patted his thigh.

The corner of your mouth twitched at his request.

"Office isn't closed yet, McCartney."

Your hair hung beside your face as you leant over to brush a hand along his shoulder. Paul brushed off your comment.

"Don't have anyone scheduled to come in. C'mon... what's the worst that could happen?"

He lowered his tone.

"If anybody comes in, just smooth your skirt down and pop out to greet them. No one'll be the wiser. It'd be like you've just dropped off some tea."

He was probably right.

You resigned, and took a seat on his knee. Work was light anyhow (at least on your end) with the holidays coming up, and no appointments in the immediate future to prepare for.

Paul's hand curled around your side.

You watched him write, making yourself comfortable. The sun slowly began to set, even so early in the evening.

Paul hummed.

"Do you have any plans for the New Year?" He said.

Your gaze was watching him write, looking down towards the table. He was left handed. (you thought they stamped that out in school when he was a kid).

"I usually go out with my coworkers New Year's Eve." You said. "...suppose that's off the table."

"Well good then!" Paul said. "I'm your coworkers this year."

You looked up to his face.

"I suppose so." you said.

Paul looked up in thought.

"Though I'm not much for going out these days, I'm afraid." He said. "I have this farmhouse up North. I go up there now. It's peaceful."

He turned to face you.

"You're welcome to come along... if you'd like."

The request surprised you at first. His place was one thing, but... suppose there were different extents an affair like yours could be taken to.