How to be a secretary

11- A good secretary never fools around.

"Seat belt?" he asks robotically from the back seat, shuffling with his papers.

"Already wearing it!" I whisper exasperated. 

"Directions?"

"Google map." I grit my teeth irritated now.

"And what about-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD! One more word out of his mouth, I am going to stuff-"

"Are you sure you can drive? I still have some time. I can catch a cab," Alvin cuts off my angry mumbling, obviously still thinking about my driving skill.

"Alvin! just stop talking now! and let me do my work. You do yours," I huff irritated.

"You do know that I am your boss right?" He asks a hint of amusement in his manly gruff voice.

I decided to just wave him off, instead of getting into an argument again.

For the past 5 minutes, we fought about him sitting next to me. He wanted to sit in the front to make sure I was being careful about driving and following the directions and I was obviously opposing his ideas.

I wanted him to sit in the back so that he wouldn't disturb me with all of his paper shuffling sounds.

At last, I won, when I opened the back door and almost stuffed him in. As you know I grew up with 3 boys so I have a few tricks.

I start the car and drive slowly into the traffic following the directions. The good thing was he was busy reading his file otherwise he would have hovered over me every second dictating me.

Getting bored quickly, I turned on the radio to listen to some good music.

Are you with somebody?

Should I even care?

Know you're not as happy

As when I was there 

in your T-shirt

That I've kept this long

I hear you laughing

WYD now... by Sadie Jean played in the car, almost about to end and I turned the volume up a little more, forgetting about the other person in the car.

I don't wanna  be 20-something

And in my head about17 in my talking, 

You said that by now we'd paint the of our apartment

You're everything I want and If we work it out

So what are you doing now?

 A tap on my shoulder brings me out of my fog, I blink rapidly, remembering that there was someone else also in the car. I turn down the volume.

"Damn! Who broke your heart, missy?" he asks sarcastically, closing his file.

"Captain America," I mumble sadly and wait for the next song.

Slowing down at the signal, a car zooms past me to avoid the red light and I swerve the car a little.

"Fucker, they rather be dead then be late," Alvin growls from his seat.

"Calm down, Alvin." 

" And you! You need to concentrate 100% on your driving now, no singing for captain America," he scolds, wearing his seat belt again and still cursing that car driver.