Free Alphas by Mathew Rodrick

up.
     
            A voice had jolted me out of my
work, and it was one I was getting to know well. He was always calling me up to
his office for small things, like getting him coffee or filing some things
away.

        "Rich, you're still here?"
It was my boss, Silvio Penatone.
     
    I'd tapped the button lightly to
respond. "Yes sir, Mr. Penatone. I got caught up."  For the
umpteenth time,  I added silently.
     
    "Why don't you finish what you're
doing and meet me in my office?" It didn't actually sound like a request,
and suddenly I felt worried. What could he possibly want with me?
     
    "Yes sir."
     
     
    I'd grinded my teeth together and turned
my intercom off, finishing up typing a sentence in the computer before shutting
it down. I picked up my bag from under the desk and made sure to turn off all
the lights before I headed out. It wasn't often that I stayed this late at
work, but I knew the procedure by now, having been around here for a few years
now.
     
     
    It was almost eerie how silent
everything was. It was times like these when I thought about how cold the world
was.  I was not sure I was about to get fired from this job, but if I did,
no one would know.  Nor would anyone really care.  We live in a
society that all they can do is think of themselves.  It isn’t their
fault, it is just life is so hard, so expensive all you can do is think of your
own.  The hum of computers on my floor did little to lessen the feeling,
though their soft sound was a familiar and somehow a comfort to me. 
     
     
    I arrived at the elevator, which I
stepped into and pressed the button for the upper offices, there was very few
reasons to be up there. For someone like me, none of them were good ones. As I
watched the numbers move steadily up, butterflies began parading through my
stomach and all sorts of awful thoughts wandered through my head. 
     
     
    What if he's calling me up to chew me
out? Or fire me?  I tried to calm myself down.  He calls you up all the time. Why
would he fire you now?
     
            All too soon the doors opened, and
there was only a long hallway and a door between me and the man I worked for. I
straightened my shirt and adjusted my tie to be sure that there would be
nothing he could find fault in. I strode down the hall, fussing with the front
of my shirt so it sat just right. Finally I arrived at the door, but I paused
to check my hair in a window. Since it was dark outside it was easier to see
myself reflected in the clear, glassy surface. I made sure no brown strands
were out of place and swept it over to look as good as I thought it could.
Pausing, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
     
     
    "Come in," a male voice
beckoned from the office. I opened the door to see my boss perched on the front
of his desk. "I'm glad you could make it up to my office, Rich. Is anyone
else here?"
     
     
    My cheeks flushed as I took in his crisp
white shirt, khaki slacks, and loosened tie. Mr. Penatone's blonde hair was
attractively ruffled, and his dark brown eyes watched me calmly, but with a
predatory air as I closed the door behind me. His muscular frame was coiled
like a jungle cat about to pounce, but his smile spoke of ease. For as long as
I could remember I'd been very attracted to my boss, but as far as I knew I was
only an errand boy to him. He had Mediterranean blood, Italian to be more
specific.  I had heard him speak of Rome with a great fondness and always
cheered for Italy in the World Cup.  It made me want to cheer for Italy
too.
     
     
    "J-Just the night crew coming in to
clean," I confessed, remaining by the door.
     
     
    Mr. Penatone's office was always
tastefully decorated in cherry wood and other dark masculine tones. The
cushions of the seats in front of his desk were a deep navy blue, and all the
pictures had black or gold frames. File cabinets lined one wall, and those I
was very familiar with, having organized them many times.
     
     
    Mr. Penatone