Too Close to Touch

by Georgia Beers

  The pictures of them sprinkled throughout her office did wonders to soften the hard-edged exterior she showed to strangers.

  Gretchen had actually known Margo for nearly ten years on a surface level. Their paths had crossed at many a corporate function; Margo had attempted to recruit her to Emerson on more than one occasion. They seemed to gravitate to one another during those gatherings of mostly men, sensing a kindred spirit across the room. They usually ended up in a corner with their scotches, pointing out which men were snakes and which were on their way to becoming snakes.

  Margo had paved the way for women like Gretchen, dealing every day with the same double standard men always placed on women in the business world. If you were a man who was tough, no-nonsense, and didn’t take anybody’s shit, you were a hero, a man to be admired. If you were a woman with those same qualities, you were quite simply a bitch and in need of a good fuck by the right guy. It seemed to Gretchen that things had been that way since the dawn of time and she often wondered if they would ever change. Forward progress could be painfully slow.

  She stopped at the secretary’s desk outside Margo’s office. A rotund, thirtyish woman with platinum blond hair and a perpetual smile sat typing at her computer.

  “Hi, Connie. Did I happen to catch her in?”

  “Hello there, Ms. Kaiser. As a matter of fact, you did. Can you believe it?”

  Gretchen chuckled. “No.”

  Connie picked up her handset and pressed a button. “Ms. Wheeler? Ms. Kaiser is here to see you.” Looking up at Gretchen, she said, “You can go right in.”

  Margo Wheeler was a plain-looking woman, not attractive and not unattractive. She was an inch or two taller than Gretchen, but her heels always made her seem that much larger, as did her air of authority.

  Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back off her face and in need of a coloring, the gray peeking through proudly. Gretchen was sure if she checked Margo’s schedule, there was a hair appointment within the next week; Margo didn’t like to appear a day older than she actually was. She always wore a tastefully expensive suit. Today’s consisted of a black skirt and red and black checked jacket.

  Her office made Gretchen’s look like a janitorial closet. A sprawling room with a peaceful view of the wooded area behind the building, it was complete with a leather couch, matching chair, and wet bar. The smell of freshly perking coffee pervaded.

  Margo stood immediately and crossed the floor with her hand outstretched. “Gretchen. Good to see you. Come in. Sit down.” Her handshake was firm, her grip warm. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gretchen allowed herself to sink contentedly into the leather couch. “Well, I have some good news and thought telling you face-to-face would be more fun than a phone call.”

  “I’m always up for good news. Coffee?”

  “No, thanks. Fifteen cups is my limit and I’ve already reached that this morning.”

  Margo laughed, a loud shock of a sound that made Gretchen jump every time. “Tell me.”

  “Sarah Stevenson closed her deal in Albany.” Gretchen let it sink in, watching Margo’s face as she processed the information.

  “Good Lord.”

  “I know.”

  “We’re sure?”

  “She’s on her way here as we speak, bringing me the paperwork.”

  “I knew that girl had potential,” Margo said softly. “You’re right. This is very, very good news.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Gretchen said. “I know we’re not even in the same league as the bigger offices. Houston is huge, and I don’t know that we’ll ever catch up to L.A. But I think this is a good start to getting the East Coast up to where it should be.” It was important to her to let Margo know that she was aware of the shortcomings of her region. She didn’t want to be projecting any hint of a false sense of security to her boss.

  “You’re damn right, it’s a good start.” Margo’s voice was firm.

  “Don’t make this smaller than it is. That account is going to bring in a lot of money for this part of the country. And if your other rep comes through…what’s his name? Bergman?” Gretchen nodded. “If Bergman comes through as well…” She let the sentence dangle, watching Gretchen calculate the possibilities. “I knew hiring you was the right move, Gretchen. I knew it. I told Ed that from the start.” Gretchen felt her face color slightly at the praise. She was flattered that Margo had talked to J. Edward Emerson about her. Nothing made her prouder than knowing she was valuable in her position. It was what she lived for and the rush was exhilarating.

  “Thank you, Margo. Listen, I’m putting a little impromptu celebration together late this afternoon for my staff. Just a casual thing in the conference room. Some pizza, champagne maybe. I want them to know how much I appreciate their hard work. They’ve really come through in the last month. It would be great if you could pop in.”

  “That’s a fantastic idea.” Margo hit a button on her phone. “Connie.

  Call over to Lorraine’s. Have them deliver a tray of assorted sandwiches to the conference room on the fourth floor around…” She checked in with Gretchen. “Four?” At Gretchen’s nod, she continued. “Four. And then call that pizza place you like so much and have a sheet pizza delivered there, too. Get some soda with that. And call Richard over in the mall and have him send five bottles of some decent champagne. Not the ridiculously expensive stuff, but not the cheap crap he gives out at Christmas, either. Charge it all to my entertainment account.” Gretchen laughed, truly not expecting such generosity. “Thank you, Margo. I really appreciate this.”

  “Consider it a well-deserved reward for you and your crew. Just don’t let them sit back on their heels now that they’ve made some forward progress.”

  Gretchen shook her head adamantly. “Oh, no. This is just the beginning. I want them to know that.” She stood to take her leave.

  “We’ll see you in our conference room later this afternoon.”

  “Yes, you will. Nice job, Gretchen.”

  Not used to wearing her feelings visible for all to see, Gretchen had a hard time keeping the goofy grin off her face as she rode the elevator back down to the fourth floor.

  * * *

  “I really need to get some sleep if we’re going to go over all this stuff tomorrow.” Sarah Stevenson was still glowing as she stood, even though the celebration had wound its way down and they’d moved from the conference room to Gretchen’s office.

  In addition to Sarah, there was only Gretchen, Bill and Randy—both local sales reps—and Kylie left. They all had plastic cups and Bill was finishing what had to be his seventh slice of pizza. Kylie sat on the front of Gretchen’s desk, her shoes tossed into a corner and her bare feet swinging gently. Slumped comfortably in her leather chair, sipping champagne, Gretchen found her eyes wandering relentlessly to Kylie’s backside just an arm’s length away.

  Randy stretched his arms over his head, fabricating a loudly obnoxious yawn. “I’ll walk you out, Sarah.” Gretchen grinned into her cup, knowing Randy was preparing to make his move, probably in the parking lot. Sarah was miles out of his league and he would learn that soon enough. Gretchen almost felt sorry for him.

  Bill looked at his watch. “Holy crap. I didn’t realize it was so late. My wife’s going to kill me.”

  The three of them gathered their things and said their good-byes.

  “Thanks so much for all of this, Gretchen.” Sarah’s gratitude was obvious and her eyes cut toward Kylie as she added, “It was a really cool thing to do.”

  “You’ve done a great job. I just wanted you to know we noticed.” Gretchen walked the sales reps to the door.

  “Drive safely, everybody,” Kylie said from her perch. “And make some noise as you get close to the security desk so you don’t give Frank a heart attack.”

  Briefly touching Sarah’s arm, Gretchen said, “I’ll see you here tomorrow morning at nine, okay? We’ll get the finalities ironed out.” At Sarah’s happy nod, Gretchen closed the door behind the trio, leaving her
alone in the office with Kylie.

  “Better lock that. We don’t need the cleaning crew catching us drinking on the premises.” Kylie’s voice seemed loud in the now-quiet room. She held up the only champagne bottle left with any contents.

  “Good point. They might want some.” Gretchen grinned as she turned the lock on the knob; the blinds were already closed. She held out her cup so she could share in the last of the spoils.

  Kylie continued to swing her bare feet, her shapely legs moving rhythmically as her heels thumped the front of Gretchen’s desk. She was adorably rumpled, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed, and Gretchen swallowed. She was finally beginning to come down from the high started by Sarah’s phone call that morning, and she knew she was going to crash pretty soon, but she was reluctant to let go of the feeling just yet.

  She realized that since her visit upstairs to share the good news with Margo Wheeler earlier in the day, she’d hardly seen Kylie alone for longer than a minute or two, and she was surprised to find she’d missed her. She wasn’t sure what to do with that.

  “Champagne and pizza. Quite a victory banquet, if you ask me.” Kylie filled Gretchen’s cup almost to the brim.

  “Whoa. Are you trying to get me drunk, Ms. O’Brien?” A teasing lilt colored Gretchen’s tone without her permission, and she caught a flirtatious wink from Kylie in reply. It was only with great effort that she didn’t acknowledge it.

  Grinning, Kylie topped off her own cup with the last of the champagne. “Depends on how far it will get me, Ms. Kaiser.” You have no idea how far you could get, Gretchen thought wryly.

  She’d shed her jacket hours ago and now wore only black slacks and a cream-colored silk shell. She kicked off her pumps and leaned back against the front of the desk. Kylie’s swinging knee brushed her hip.

  Gretchen absently speculated whether the friction it caused could increase the temperature in the room, as she was suddenly very warm.

  “I’m afraid champagne and pizza were the best I could do on short notice,” she said.

  “Well, it was a really great gesture. I think it was good of you to plan something like this. It made everybody feel appreciated. Most bosses have no idea what it means to pat their people on the back once in a while.”

  “I know I can be tough, but despite belief to the contrary, I’m not completely cold-hearted. I believe in rewarding my people for a job well done.”

  They sipped their champagne in silence, barely an inch between them in the otherwise empty office. Gretchen noticed that there were a handful of other places either of them could sit if the proximity was uncomfortable, but neither moved. The clock on the bookshelf ticked away the seconds, the minutes, its hands well on their way to midnight.

  “Gretchen?” The champagne had forced Kylie’s voice to a deeper, huskier register as the night went on, a fact that was not lost on Gretchen.

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you ever worry?”

  “Ever?” The vagueness of the question made Gretchen smile. “In my life, ever?”

  “No, smart-ass. When you take on a new group of sales reps. Do you ever worry that you won’t be able to improve them?” Kylie blinked, those blue eyes seeming twice as wide and inquisitive as usual.

  “I mean, it’s no secret that you’ve been hired here and in the past to improve the performance of a failing sales force, right? Do you ever worry that you—for whatever reason—won’t live up to your reputation and won’t be able to improve the bottom line?”

  “I try not to let my mind go there,” Gretchen said honestly. “Is it possible that I won’t be able to shape up a sales force? Sure it is. Do I dwell on that possibility? No way. I’d drive myself crazy.” Kylie nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response. “I would worry.”

  “Of course you would. You’re a worrier. Which is a good thing. If you’re worried, then I don’t have to be bothered with it. You can worry for both of us and save me the energy.”

  “Funny.” Kylie bumped against Gretchen’s shoulder affectionately.

  “Seriously, though. You’ve done an amazing job with this bunch. I mean, I didn’t think they needed any improvement, but obviously I was way off base. You’ve really made them strive to get better.” She paused, her concentration so intent Gretchen could almost hear the mental cogs whirring. “I know it’s been tough and a lot of us haven’t made it easy for you, but wow. I’m impressed…I’m just so impressed with you. Your drive, your determination, your strength. Plus, you’re just…” Abruptly, she stopped talking, and her eyes widened as if her brain had finally caught up with her mouth and she realized she’d very nearly crossed a line. She lowered her head and studied the contents of her cup as though wishing there were more in it and less in her.

  Gretchen watched in surprised fascination as a red flush seemed to emanate from inside Kylie’s dress, crawling up her chest and covering her neck and face. Curiosity warred with trepidation in Gretchen’s mind, and her heart picked up speed. “I’m just…what?” she prompted softly. “Aren’t you going to finish?”

  “Um…no.” Kylie gave a humorless chuckle. “I’d probably better not.”

  Gretchen continued to gaze at her and Kylie squirmed like a witness being cross-examined but did not look up.

  “I’m sorry, Gretch. Ignore me. I talk too much when I’ve had a little alcohol.”

  “I don’t mind listening to you talk. God knows you’ve got to listen to me often enough.”

  Gretchen wasn’t drunk, but she’d also had more than her share of champagne and was feeling braver than she should. Do not pursue this, the voice in her head warned. You know where the boundaries are and you know they can’t be breached. Gretchen was well aware of the direction things were headed and wondered if Kylie knew, too. She felt powerless to stop the force that seemed to be pushing her that way. She tried to focus on the inner voice, but it was muffled by the heat coming off Kylie’s body, so close to hers, and the distracting scent of Kylie’s musky perfume.

  The unspoken hung in the air between them, almost tangibly. They each sipped their champagne and remained silent. Kylie’s feet seemed to swing a little faster, her bare heels softly bouncing off the front of the desk. After several minutes, Gretchen clamped her left hand firmly on Kylie’s knee to stop the sound. A small gasp escaped Kylie’s lips—just the smallest intake of breath at the contact—and Gretchen turned to meet her eyes.

  “I like you, Gretchen,” Kylie whispered. Her tone was almost apologetic and very clearly referring to something stronger than “like.” She seemed relieved to say the words out loud. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t.”

  “I like you, too,” Gretchen replied, her hand still on Kylie’s knee.

  “I’ve tried to ignore it, but after dinner the other night…” Kylie made a face, then looked at her cup in disgust and set it down. “God, I should just stop talking. I sound like I’m sixteen.”

  “No,” Gretchen assured her. “You don’t.” She could listen to Kylie talk all night long. Leaving her hand where it was, she turned slightly so her hip was against the desk and she could see Kylie’s face better.

  Her thumb moved in small circles on Kylie’s knee.

  “I’m just trying to be honest here,” Kylie said. “I don’t know if bringing it up is the smartest thing to do, but I guess it’s a little late to be worried about that now, huh?”

  “A little bit,” Gretchen conceded.

  “You feel it though, don’t you? This… thing we have going on here?”

  Kylie held her breath because if Gretchen hadn’t felt it, or if she chose not to admit that she felt it, she would be left twisting in the wind all alone, embarrassed and humiliated. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her mouth felt dry.

  Gretchen held her gaze steadily. Tell her no, the voice shrieked in her head. Tell her no, that you feel nothing, that you don’t know what she’s talking about. Instead, she whispered, “Yeah. I feel it.” They kept eye contact for what felt like years, their faces so close th
ey breathed the same air. It was Kylie who finally broke the silence.

  “Gretchen.” Her voice was so low it cracked.

  “Hmm?”

  “Either kiss me right now or stop whatever it is you’re doing with your thumb, because it’s driving me crazy.” Gretchen felt a surge of arousal at the pleading note combined with the throaty authority in Kylie’s tone. She smoothly positioned herself between Kylie’s legs, facing her, and shifted her hand so she was stroking the soft skin at the back of Kylie’s knee. Because Kylie was sitting, Gretchen was actually a little taller and she silently rejoiced. With her petite frame, she was rarely taller than anyone, but this position gave her a comforting sense of power. She looked down at Kylie as she continued to stroke the bare skin beneath her hand, velvet to her fingertips.

  Kylie gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white. Her lips were parted and her breathing had grown ragged. Her blue eyes, black with desire, captured Gretchen’s and held them. Gretchen pushed any other thoughts out of her head for the time being, allowing the beautiful blond woman offering herself to take up all her vision, all her focus. Moving her right hand to Kylie’s left knee, she mimicked the same movement as her other hand. Kylie’s eyes fluttered closed for several seconds and when she opened them, there was a determined glint.

  Prying her own fingers from their death grip on the desk, she slid both hands up Gretchen’s chest and neck and grabbed the sides of Gretchen’s head, her fingers tangling in the silky, almost-black ringlets that tumbled around Gretchen’s shoulders. Their erotically infused eye contact lasted for three more seconds before Kylie forcefully pulled Gretchen’s head down into a heated, bruising kiss.

  Their lips fused hungrily and Kylie groaned as she tightened her knees against Gretchen’s hips and closed her fingers until she had a fistful of sleek dark hair. There was nothing tentative about the way Gretchen skimmed her hands along Kylie’s thighs, then pulled on her hips, sliding Kylie’s backside along the top of the desk in an effort to bring her even closer. The royal blue fabric of Kylie’s dress rode farther up her thighs and whimpers and moans mingled in the air. It was impossible to tell which sounds came from which woman.