Rikky || S&S Fan Fiction

Rikky schemes (1)

Mr. Rikkard Ambrose was glaring at the file in front of his desk with icy disdain, so intense that if the thing had been an actual human being, it would have fled for the hills.

He was in his freezing office on the top floor of Empire House, 322 Leandenhall Street, with his posture still as a granite statue of a Greek God. It was well past 8 PM, the building was entirely basked in dead silence, quieter than usual at least. Most of the army of employees working under his command had left for their houses, something that was against his better judgment, he would rather he lengthened the work hours to reach the ultimate maximum work efficiency. But to put it more adequately though, she had left for her house.

His eyes swept over the slim black folder one more time with the inscriptions:

M.M.F from L.L. Waste Disposal.

Just what did his little ifrit get herself into this time?

His name was Morton Momederuke Fitzgerald, lived most of his life in the opulent comfort of the tenant farms that he owned in the countryside and never had to face any toil or hardships during his miserable little life. His appearance signified him to be a sluggish gentleman with a small flabby built, a round face and a balding head. All in all, he was harmless. Mr. Ambrose gave next to none regards to how harmless the man may seem, he was the enemy. One who appeared to be quite daft. More importantly, he was no match for him.

"Yes, he isn't." He thought, satisfied.

Oh, well. It would be exceedingly arduous to find a gentleman that could be considered a competition for him, downright near impossible.

If it is so, then what the hell are you doing?

That was an interesting question.

He wasn't going to give any answer! Because he doesn't give anything! Period!

And also because, the plain truth was, he was never for the life of him able to find one. He was puzzled out by everything that was the fiery female who was so adamant to continue working as his private secretary.

With all of her actions she was guaranteed to find a special place reserved for her in the madhouse. She was certainly insane enough; she was the one who dressed up in men's attire to vote! She was also the one stood up to his giant turbaned bodyguard, whom he knew terrified anyone to death, just to warn him about buying a wreckage of a house. She was the one who dared to show up at his door, demanding to have the position she was offered. She was the one who still insisted to work as his secretary, even if she had to dress up in men's clothes while doing it. She was the one who lived for her delusions of freedom and independence, even if they were as farfetched as climbing to the moon.

How she wasn't caught by any of her relatives after all of this time was one of the many mysteries of life. It would surely be subservient, to get rid of her at last. So why didn't the thought fill him with relief, like it should?

Probably because that would risk the leakage of the information that he let a female work for him to the outside world.

Letting her get married, however, would be an efficient way to finally get rid of her, any husband would mind if his wife mysteriously disappeared from Monday to Friday, from 8 am to 8 pm, and no man in his right mind would let his wife work for a living. She would have to quit working as his secretary, finally relieving him of her troublesome self.

So why were you doing this again?

It was purely because she didn't want she had no desire to marry Moron Momerduke Fitzgerald whatsoever, his honor as a gentle wouldn't allow it. That was all! And nothing else!