So this is just a story I thought up about Smitty and Mr. Bratt. We did this production at my school and I absolutely love it, as does everyone else who was in it. The characters I am imagining are based out of the Daniel Radcliffe revival cast so people like Rose Hemingway and Mary Faber, Michael Park, Christopher J. Hanke and John Laroquette. Well, anyway, enough of my chattering, I hope you enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying . . . sadly . . .

A Secretary Is Not a Toy

Chapter One: An "Urgent" Message

"I haven't seen you since lunch yesterday," Smitty says to Rosemary as they make their way to their floor in the elevator. "How was your lunch date with Ponty?"

Rosemary stops digging through her handbag for her lipstick and looks at her friend with a slightly hurt look on her face. "Don't even get me started on J. Pierrepont Finch," she says, slightly disappointed as she continues to search through her handbag.

J. Pierrepont Finch? Smitty thinks confused. She never calls him that. What happened to Ponty? "What happened?" she voices part of her concern out loud.

"He ended up going for a business lunch with Mr. Gatch," Rosemary explains as she tries her hardest not to roll her eyes. "The 'date' never happened."

I tried to warn her. "Honey, I told you his job would eventually become his life, I just didn't think it would be this soon," Smitty says in what she hopes is a comforting tone. "If they notice us now, they tend to forget about us once their true love becomes more successful; their jobs." Smitty notices Rosemary blink back a few tears. "Don't give up, honey. He'll never know how you truly feel unless you keep trying to get his attention. Trying asking him again tonight."

A small, barely noticeable smile appears on Rosemary's face at Smitty's words. "You know," she starts. "You're right, Smitty. I'll never let him unless I let him know in some way."

Smitty smiles as the elevator doors open to their floor. "Honey," she starts seriously. "I'm alwaysright."

Rosemary lets out a small chuckle as the two of them walk out of the elevator and begin to go their separate ways. "Thanks, Smitty," she says and Smitty turns and smiles while waving a dismissive hand."

Still smiling at her conversation with Rosemary, Smitty walks down the hallway and up a set of stairs to the Personnel Office and walks in. She sees the door to Mr. Bratt's office is open. "Good morning, Mr. Bratt," she calls through the door as she sets her handbag down on her desk.

Mr. Bratt nods at her as he walks out of his office toward her. "And to you too, Smitty," he greets her back. "I was just running out to get a cup of coffee, could I grab you a cup as well?"

"That would be nice," she begins, picking up her handbag to find five cents. Mr. Bratt just makes her lower her handbag. Confused, she looks up at him.

"You can pay me back later," he explains as he leaves the office.

Smitty continues to stare after him, but eventually shrugs her shoulders and sits down at her desk. Quickly, she sorts through all the papers on her desk and places them neatly in the corner. Turning to the answering machine, she pressed the button and begins to listen to any messages she may have missed overnight. There was one from Mr. Gatch and another few from business partners and people applying for jobs. The next message, though, is the one that confuses her. It is to her from Mr. Bratt and he says it's urgent.

". . . I would like to say what I have to right here and now, but I don't quite know if it would be very professional over the phone . . ." He seemed to be thinking out loud, and on top of that. He doesn't quite sound like himself, a little more giddy perhaps. ". . . Well, no, maybe I should say it, or . . . hmm, maybe I'll just get you to meet me somewhere tomorrow." She still can't seem to place what's odd about his voice. "Anyway, I think it will be a little easier to tell you that I think I'm in love with you if we were face to face . . ."

At that comment, Smitty stops. She drops the next stack of papers she started organizing and almost tunes out the rest of the message but manages to register him saying something like "oops" and "didn't mean to say that." And finally she can tell what's off with his voice: he may just be slightly intoxicated. Shaking her head, she turns the answering machine off, still slightly shocked. Drunken words speak sober thought, don't they? Once again, she shakes her head to get rid of the thought as Mr. Bratt himself walks through the door carrying two cups of coffee.

"Sorry it took a while," he says. "The coffee machine up here isn't working again. I had to go downstairs and buy it," he explains as he sets the coffee down on her desk. Smitty smirks and thanks him for the coffee.

Confused about the smirk, Mr. Bratt turns and begins to walk into his office with his own coffee. "Mr. Bratt!" Smitty calls after him. Mr. Bratt stops and turns back to her. "Do you have something to tell me?" she asks knowingly.

Mr. Bratt looks at her confused. "Should I have something to tell you?" he asks, confusion dripping from his words. Did I forget her birthday or something? He wonders.

"You tell me."

He watches as Smitty reaches over and presses the button on the answering machine. His voice comes through slightly slurred and he hears himself confessing his undying love for his secretary. Embarrassed, he places his head in his hands as he realizes that he was drinking and playing gin with Mr. Twimble the previous night, when the message was obviously left. Taking his chances, he lifts his head from his hands and looks up at Smitty. Her once amused expression had turned to one that didn't seem too impressed.

Hesitantly, he gives Smitty an apologetic smile. "Sorry . . .?" he mumbles unsurely, slightly scared of his secretary for the first time ever.

Smitty rolls her eyes and stands up to her full five feet two inches, which isn't much next to his six feet one inches. "A secretary is not a toy, Mr. Bratt," she says, her voice showing some irritation and very little mocking, showing that she was mostly serious.

Mr. Bratt looks down at her in shock as she turns to sit down at her desk again, obviously telling him the conversation was over. Well, that didn't go as I wanted it to, he thought. It definitely could have gone better.

….

Well that's all I am going to write tonight. I hope everyone enjoyed it! And please remember to review, favourite, alert, etc. to let me know whether or not I should continue!

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