The Dedicated Secretary
Elsie Twitchell started working at Finchley and Spilsbury Associates the week after she graduated from high school. Her first position with the company was as a typist in a department with fourteen other young women, many of whom were also just out of high school. In a little over a year, Elsie was promoted to the secretarial pool where she was called upon to perform a wider range of tasks. The girls in the pool filled in for the regular secretaries when they were either out sick or on vacation. They also typed, took dictation and filed for lower-level managers in the company.
It was while Elsie was serving in this capacity that she started working for a young man named Godfrey Pierpont and thus became the envy of her coworkers since many of the women in the secretarial pool had set their eyes on the handsome bachelor. This was understandable since the majority of the female employees had taken jobs to support themselves only until they could find husbands, at which time they hoped to turn in their steno pads and settle in the suburbs to contribute to what the press was calling a postwar "baby boom." Elsie, however, was a plain, rather shapeless young woman who suffered from no delusions of beauty or femininity. She would most likely be working at Finchley and Spilsbury until she was old and gray and ready to retire.
For his part, Godfrey Pierpont was not oblivious to the smiles and stares of the hopeful young women in the secretarial pool, but he had ambitions beyond simply adding to the growing population. He was dating Augusta Finchley, who wasn't much more attractive than Elsie Twitchell, but she had the advantage of being Caledon Finchley's only child and the sole heir to his fortune.
As Godfrey and Augusta's relationship became more serious, the young man began ascending the corporate ladder. On the day the couple announced their engagement, Caledon Finchley made Godfrey a Junior Vice President. Along with this title came a substantial increase in salary, a corner office and a private secretary. Godfrey chose Elsie not so much for her superior skills but because he felt her plain appearance would please his intended wife. He was certain that Augusta would not appreciate his working closely with an attractive young woman.
Thus Elsie became the youngest personal secretary in the history of Finchley and Spilsbury Associates. She treasured this distinction and felt a profound sense of gratitude to her boss, a gratitude that would result in more than forty years of faithful service above and beyond the call of duty.
* * *
Godfrey Pierpont left the boardroom with a smile on his face. The first person he encountered was Elsie Twitchell, his executive secretary.
"Well, sir?" she asked with anticipation.
Godfrey chuckled.
"Elsie, my girl, you're looking at the new CEO of Finchley and Pierpont Associates."
Elsie shook his hand, heartily congratulated him and wished him the best of luck in his new position. It never occurred to her, even in the enlightened day of women's liberation, to take offense at his referring to her as his "girl"—nor, for that matter, did she mind fetching his coffee or getting his lunch. She would willingly have done anything he asked of her.
"I'm sure you will do your usual excellent job, sir."
"Thank you, Elsie. You know, I wouldn't have gotten this far if it weren't for you."
Elsie knew his statement was no idle compliment. Her hard work and her years of loyal service had been an invaluable asset to him.
"In fact," Godfrey continued, "I think it's about time I show you my appreciation for all your hard work."
"That's not necessary, sir," Elsie said blushing with happiness.
"I insist."
He reached into his pocket, took out an envelope and handed it to her. Inside were two airline tickets to Hawaii.
"You be sure to take that widowed sister of yours along. I'm sure she would love to spend three weeks in the sun."
The astonished secretary was speechless, but she was feeling something else besides surprise and gratitude for Godfrey's extremely generous gift. She felt consternation as well. Unlike most people, she didn't like to travel, and she had never taken more than three consecutive days off since she started working for the company.
"But who will take care of things while I'm gone?" she asked.
Elsie was one of those company-minded employees who thought the business would come to an abrupt end should she not be at her desk to see that things kept running smoothly.
"I don't anticipate any problems. I've asked personnel—oh, excuse me; I'm dating myself—the human resources department to send me a temp from the secretarial pool to fill in while you're gone. Which reminds me: she'll be starting first thing in the morning. I would like you to go over your filing system and office procedures with her before you leave."
"But usually those temps are not very competent, sir."
"Elsie, I'm surprised at you!" the new chief executive officer said with amusement. "I chose you from the secretarial pool, or has it been so long that you've forgotten that?"
Although Godfrey's comments were said in jest, Elsie still felt a pang of hurt pride. Did Godfrey think all those other girls were of her caliber? That he could just pick up the phone and have a replacement sent up with no more difficulty than if he were ordering a pizza?
The following morning Ms. Alanna Kessler reported to Elsie's office promptly at 9:00 a.m. Alanna was as different from Elsie as a French Poodle was from a Basset Hound. Elsie took one look at the beautiful face, shapely figure, stylish hair, fashionable clothes and perfectly manicured nails and formed an unfavorable opinion.
"Do you know how to type?" the secretary asked haughtily.
Alanna laughed.
"I doubt there's anyone in this age of the Internet that doesn't."
"What about steno? How fast can you take dictation?"
"Do you mean to say that Mr. Pierpont doesn't have a pocket recorder for dictation? I'll have to call Mrs. Simmons down in Supplies and have her send one up to him immediately."
The older woman was flabbergasted. Just who did this temp think she was, an efficiency expert? Elsie had gotten along fine with Gregg shorthand and a trusty manual typewriter for over forty years. She certainly didn't need a Dictaphone or a personal computer now.
For the remainder of the morning, Elsie went over her filing system. Alanna seemed confident that she could handle it. At noon, Elsie picked up her purse and her brown paper bag and headed for the corporate lunchroom—a little perk for executives and their secretaries. She naturally assumed that the temp would eat in the cafeteria on the ground floor.
Promptly at one o'clock, Elsie returned to her desk, but Alanna wasn't back yet. Not one to waste time, Elsie immediately returned to her filing. As she worked, she kept an eye on the clock: 1:15, 1:30, 1:45. The temp had still not come back from lunch.
Such behavior will never do! Godfrey will simply have to get another girl, or, better yet, I will cancel that foolish trip to Hawaii.
Then at 2:05, Elsie saw Alanna and Mr. Pierpont get off the elevator together.
Aha! Elsie thought with a smile. That one thought she could get away with an extra hour for lunch, did she? I'll bet she was surprised to be caught by the CEO himself!
But as the two passed her desk, Elsie noticed that they were both in good spirits.
"Elsie," Godfrey called to her with a boyish grin on his aging face, "sorry to keep your assistant out so late, but the service at the Club was exceptionally slow today."
He then winked at the younger woman and went into his office.
"Sorry, I'm late," Alanna said, adding her own apology to Mr. Pierpont's. "Godfrey invited me to lunch, and I couldn't very well refuse, could I? After all, he is the boss."
Elsie could only stare open-mouthed at her "assistant."
What was the world coming to? A mere temp from the secretarial pool was calling the CEO by his first name after only a few hours on the job!
* * *
Elsie returned from Hawaii with jet lag, sunburn and a certainty that she would have a great deal of work ahead of her, putting things back in order at the office. A dozen times she had tried phoning Alanna from Hawaii, but each time she called the woman was either out to lunch, on another line or simply not at her desk. Elsie imagined that nothing had gotten done in her absence.
On Monday morning Miss Twitchell left for work forty-five minutes earlier than usual, hoping to get to the office before Alanna did, in order to survey the damage. When she got off the elevator, she saw an unfamiliar young girl sitting at a desk outside her office.
"Good morning. May I help you?"
The girl smiled pleasantly up at Elsie.
"Who are you?" Elsie asked.
"I'm Ms. Kessler's secretary."
"What? You must be mistaken. Ms. Kessler is a temp from the secretarial pool."
"She has recently been promoted. She's now the administrative assistant to Mr. Pierpont, the Chief Executive Officer."
"I don't believe this!"
Elsie walked past the young woman and headed for her office.
The girl quickly cut her off. "I'm sorry, but Ms. Kessler isn't in yet. Would you like to make an appointment?"
"Young lady, I'm Elsie Twitchell," she announced indignantly. "I have just returned from Hawaii, and I'm sure there is a good deal of work waiting for me on my desk. So, would you kindly let me get into my office?"
"This is Ms. Kessler's office."
"Elsie?"
Godfrey Pierpont came down the hall with an apologetic look on his face.
"There seems to be some confusion here, sir," Elsie complained.
"I know. Come into my office; I have something to discuss with you. Betty Jean, would you get us some coffee?"
Feeling as though she had just crossed over into the Twilight Zone, Elsie followed her boss into his corner office, one that was roughly the size of her entire apartment.
"What's been going on here, sir?" she asked once the door was closed.
"I made some personnel changes while you were on vacation. Ms. Kessler is now my administrative assistant."
Elsie felt a sharp stab of jealousy.
"But I've always handled your administrative work myself."
"Yes, and you've done an excellent job of it, but with this new promotion my responsibilities have doubled."
"You needn't worry, sir, I'm up to the job."
Godfrey looked trapped. He had hoped not to hurt Elsie's feelings, but she gave him no choice in the matter.
"No, you're not, Miss Twitchell. You know nothing about modern office technology. I need an assistant who is familiar with word processing and desktop publishing programs and who can prepare spreadsheets and PowerPoint presentations."
"I can learn, sir. I can take a night course at the community college—at my own expense, if necessary."
Godfrey shook his head.
"You've been a loyal, hardworking employee all these years, but it's time for you to retire."
"Retire? I can't afford to retire."
"I'm prepared to give you a substantial early retirement package: health insurance until you're old enough for Medicare, severance pay, pension, and so forth. You'll do fine."
"But sir ...."
"I'm sorry, Elsie. I have no further need of your services."
* * *
The employees of Pierpont Enterprises, Inc., formerly Finchley and Spilsbury Associates, held a lavish retirement dinner for Miss Elsie Twitchell. Both Godfrey and Augusta Pierpont attended the affair; however, the CEO and his wife arrived separately. Halfway through dinner, Elsie left the table and went to the ladies' lounge, and Godfrey's wife followed her inside.
"I've been waiting to speak to you in private all night," Augusta said.
This surprised Elsie since the two women had never gotten along.
"I see you've received the golden parachute, too," Mrs. Pierpont observed.
"I wasn't aware anyone else was being asked to retire."
"Oh, I'm not talking about his employees, Miss Twitchell. I'm talking about the women in his life: you and me."
"I don't understand."
"Don't be so obtuse! We're both being traded in for newer models. Now that my father is dead and Godfrey is finally head of the company, he no longer has to behave himself. There's no longer a reason for him to be faithful to the boss's daughter or to settle for a frumpy-looking secretary."
Elsie turned and stared at the woman. True, Augusta had never been particularly friendly toward her, but she had never been so blatantly rude and insulting either.
"Forgive me for being blunt," the angry woman continued, "but Godfrey didn't give you your position because of your secretarial skills. He wanted a woman devoid of feminine charms because he thought it would please me and my father."
Elsie was hurt but not by the insult to her looks. She had never deluded herself into believing she was attractive, but she had always prided herself on her skills. It was a blow to her ego to learn that they had not been appreciated.
Augusta went on, oblivious to the other woman's feelings.
"Now he's got a beautiful young woman serving as his so-called administrative assistant. Of course, the girl can't type, file or take dictation, but she certainly looks good sitting across from him on those business trips."
"Alanna doesn't have to do any clerical work," Elsie explained with unconcealed resentment. "She's got her own secretary for that."
"It figures," Augusta said bitterly. "There's no fool like an old fool. But Miss Insult-to-Working-Women-Everywhere is not Godfrey's only feminine distraction. He moved out of the house last week and into his own apartment, where I'm told a number of pretty young women have been seen entering and leaving."
"Do you think he's going to divorce you for one of those young women?"
"Hell, no!" Augusta exclaimed with bitter laughter. "My dear father was a good deal smarter than my husband imagined. He left all his stock to me. I'll put up with Godfrey's philandering for a little while and let the old goat get it out of his system, but then I'll tighten the screws. If he doesn't reign in, he'll be out on his ass—CEO or not."
As much as Elsie wanted to despise her former boss for putting her out to pasture, she couldn't. In fact, she felt sorry for him. He'd had to put up with this harpy of a woman for most of his adult life. She couldn't help feeling that he somehow deserved a little happiness in his golden years.
"But there's not a man at the company who could fill his shoes," the former secretary argued. "Whatever his personal faults, Mr. Pierpont has got a good head for business."
"I don't give a damn about the company. It can go bankrupt for all I care. I can live quite comfortably off my inheritance."
"But what about all the employees who depend on the company for their livelihood?"
"They can all go to ...."
The conversation came to an abrupt end when Alanna Kessler walked into the ladies' room.
* * *
Godfrey Pierpont was surprised to learn that Elsie's presence was sorely missed at the office. He had never really known about, much less appreciated, all the thousands of details she had handled over the years. Beautiful though Alanna was, she was virtually useless as an assistant. Where Elsie's organizational talents had been exceptional, Alanna couldn't organize a Tupperware party much less a stockholders or board of directors meeting.
For her part, Elsie was enjoying her retirement. Admittedly, the first several weeks had been pure hell. She had been used to keeping a hectic schedule, and the monotony of life without a full-time job was torture to a woman who had neither a husband nor children to fill her time. Then, she slowly developed interests of her own. She started reading mystery novels and history magazines, doing crossword puzzles and going to Bingo three nights a week. Then she purchased a laptop computer and learned how to surf the web.
One day she stumbled onto eBay where she began collecting various items that had disappeared from department store shelves about the same time Elsie's girlhood ended. Her first purchase was a vinyl Pebbles Flintstone doll. The following week she bought a Queen Holden Baby Patsy paper doll book in mint condition. The week after that it was a Remco Showboat, complete with all the stage backdrops and cardboard cutout characters. That was followed by a vintage Colorforms Miss Cookie's Kitchen play set, a collection of Marx Tinykins and a Patti Playpal doll that set her back a few hundred dollars. With shopping as effortless as a click of a button, in no time at all, the retired secretary came dangerously close to maxing out her credit card.
Then one day, while Elsie was strolling through Willowbrook Mall, she ran into Augusta Pierpont, and her former employer's wife invited her to lunch. During the meal, Augusta had too much to drink and became quite ill-mannered.
"I've finally given Godfrey my ultimatum," she announced, slurring her words. "Either move back home and stop acting like a horny sixteen-year-old let loose in the Playboy Mansion or else join the ranks of the unemployed."
"What did he say to that?"
"Not much. The old fool thinks he can contest my decision in court, but my lawyer assures me he doesn't stand a chance."
Augusta took another gulp of her drink and burst out in drunken laughter.
"I'll make him sorry for this, just wait and see. Who knows? Maybe another one of my conditions will be that he fire Ms. 38-24-36 Kessler and give you back your old job. Having to look at your sour kisser day in and day out again would be a just punishment, don't you think?"
Elsie then realized with a shock that Augusta had been jealous of the secretary's close working relationship with her husband, even though it had been a strictly professional one. For some reason, this fact gave her a good deal of pleasure. It also gave her the courage to speak her mind. After all, she was no longer an employee of Pierpont Enterprises, so she had no need to hold her tongue.
"I may not be pretty, Augusta, but you're not exactly Elizabeth Taylor yourself. You don't think Godfrey married you because he found you attractive, do you?"
"How dare you speak to me like that?"
Regardless of the amount of alcohol she'd consumed, Augusta still thought she was one degree away from royalty.
"I am Augusta Pierpont, Caledon W. Finchley's daughter and the major stockholder of Pierpont Enterprises."
"As such, you've been pampered your entire life, and now you're behaving like a spoiled brat because Godfrey won't jump through your hoop."
"Why, you homely old maid!" Augusta drunkenly shouted. "You'll be sorry you opened your mouth! Not only will you not get your job back, but I'll do my best to see that your benefits are stopped."
Elsie quickly calculated the bill, opened her purse and left the money on the table. Then she walked away with a smile on her face, thinking: one glass of white wine: $3.50, one Caesar salad: $6.75, tax and tip: $4.00, the furious look on Augusta Pierpont's face: priceless!
* * *
Godfrey Pierpont said goodnight to his secretary on his way out of the office. If he hurried, he could drop in and visit his latest romantic interest: a twenty-six-year-old American Airlines flight attendant, a shapely redhead from South Carolina. But he had better make it quick; he had to be home by eight. He had promised his new wife he would be on time, and Godfrey had yet to break a promise to her.
At precisely 7:52 he walked through his front door.
"I'm home," he called, as he hung his coat up in the hall closet.
His wife's voice came from the kitchen, "Better take a shower and dress for dinner. The Berensons will be here at 8:30."
As Godfrey headed toward the staircase, he passed the portrait of his first wife, Augusta, who had been dead for almost two years. The painting was a constant reminder of how his life had improved since the day she was interred in Pine Grove Cemetery. Six months later he had remarried, and his life fell into the comfortably happy routine he now enjoyed.
Godfrey showered and dressed and then went downstairs to prepare for his guests. As usual, his wife had everything under control.
"You amaze me," he said with appreciation. "You are without doubt the most efficient woman I've ever met."
His wife beamed with pride. She enjoyed being Mrs. Godfrey Pierpont. Her husband was good to her—generous with both his money and his praise. As far as his penchant for beautiful, young women went, that didn't bother her at all. She and Godfrey had an understanding: theirs was strictly a platonic relationship. It was an arrangement that made them both quite happy.
As she brought the basket of fresh bread out to the dining room, Elsie Twitchell Pierpont looked up at the portrait of her predecessor. How easy it had been to eliminate her. Elsie had only had to pay her a visit—ostensibly to apologize for the way she'd behaved at their last meeting. Then, while Augusta wasn't looking, she slipped the bottle of sleeping pills into the decanter of wine that the former Mrs. Pierpont loved so dearly.
When Augusta's body was discovered three days later, the police assumed she had committed suicide. No blame could be attached to her husband who was three thousand miles away at an important business meeting, nor did anyone suspect the husband's former secretary of any complicity, even when the two were married six months after Augusta's death. No one had the slightest idea that the CEO of Pierpont Enterprises had plotted with his former secretary to rid himself of his wife.
Once Augusta was out of the way, Godfrey was free both to continue his romantic affairs and to retain his job. Of course, he'd had to marry Elsie—that had been part of the bargain. But even that situation worked out much better than he'd imagined. Elsie not only proved to be an excellent hostess and housekeeper, but she also made no demands on his personal life.
The doorbell rang, and Godfrey went to greet the Berensons.
As his wife turned away from the portrait, she remembered the conversation she'd had with Augusta on the night of her retirement party. In the ladies' lounge, Godfrey's first wife had told her that they were both being "traded in for newer models." Elsie wondered if Augusta would have been any happier to know that Godfrey's second wife was not a newer model after all—just a more efficient one.
I couldn't ask for a more dedicated secretary than Salem. And he works for peanuts: Godiva chocolate covered ones, but peanuts nevertheless.
