Office Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories

by Scott, Lisa

  She stood, hands shaking. “Aww, I knew Tristan was shy. You all enjoy the party while the two of us talk. Better get used to it. This is what life with me is going to be like—full of surprises.” She set the microphone on a table and took Tristan by the hand, leading him into the lobby.

  “Monique…”

  She clasped her hands in front of her in a begging gesture. “You’re embarrassing me. Why didn’t you ask me to marry you? That was a proposal proposal. Jillian and I are trying to make it a thing—when a woman asks the guy to ask her to marry her. It’ll make everything so much easier for couples everywhere. It’s going to catch on and we can say we were the first to do it.”

  His mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

  “I’m sorry if I ruined any plans you had to propose to me. I figured that was the important thing you wanted to talk to me about this week, but I didn’t want to wreck everything we’d planned for the party. Is that why you’re upset? Because you didn’t get to do it?”

  Tristan shook his head. “No, I wasn’t going to ask you to marry me this week.”

  “Did you have something planned for the holidays? At the Nutcracker maybe?” She sucked in a breath. “You were going to do it on New Year’s, weren’t you?”

  “Monique…” He scanned the room, trying to locate Charlotte.

  She cut him off and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I took a chance doing this. We’ve been dating for a year and a half. I’m in my prime, and if you’re not going to marry me, I need to move on.”

  He closed his eyes, hoping he was holding back his smile. “You’re an incredible girl, Monique. And some guy is going to be so lucky to have you. But that guy isn’t me.”

  Monique looked down at herself. “Really? You don’t want this?” She swept her hand along her body.

  “I’ve never stopped loving Charlotte.”

  “All this time we were together?”

  “I’m just realizing it now.”

  “Tristan!” Charlotte ran up to them, breathless.

  “Charlotte…” Tristan said.

  “I ran from you when you needed a break and look what happened. I’m not running now. Monique, I’m sorry, but I love Tristan. I never stopped.”

  She rolled her eyes. “And he loves you. Blah, blah, blah. Just heard all about it.” She groaned. “I wasted so much time with you. You know, Jillian gave me a list of guys to choose from and I can’t believe I picked you.”

  Jillian walked out of the ballroom with bulging eyes and a tight smile. “People, what is going on? I have a room full of guests waiting on an answer.”

  “You were right, Jilly,” Monique said.

  “About what?”

  “When you told me to choose someone besides Tristan from your list.” She jabbed her thumb in his direction. “He’s still in love with Charlotte.”

  Jillian stared at Tristan, and he squared his shoulders. “You’re going to have a hard time replacing me.”

  Jillian laughed. “No I won’t. I have a list of ten men I can call who’ll go out with Monique like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I’ll save all this crap from the party for the next time.”

  “I meant replacing me at the office when you fire me for this.”

  Jillian laughed. “Fire you? For this? We’ll find someone else for her. It’s hard to find a good IT guy for what we pay you.”

  “What?” Tristan shook his head. “But you fired that Nelson guy when he got a new haircut.”

  Jillian waved him off. “He’d been drinking on the job—my alcohol, I should add.”

  “And what about Tom?” Charlotte asked. “You fired him when he started dating Joy.”

  “Really, what do you think I am? Unreasonable? He quit and took the New York job. I didn’t fire him.”

  “You sort of forced him out,” Charlotte said.

  “Tomatoes tomahtoes,” Jillian said.

  Shelby took a few steps toward the group. “Sorry to interrupt—actually, I’m not sorry. I’ve been dying to interrupt. We’ve got a bunch of people wondering if you two are back together? There’s a lot of money riding on this.”

  Tristan turned and saw the entire party gathered outside the ballroom, watching.

  He reached for Charlotte’s hand. “We never should’ve been apart.”

  Applause broke out and Monique narrowed her eyes. “Do I still get your engagement gift, Jillian? That Waterford decanter you told me about?”

  “I think so,” Charlotte said. “I gave it back to her a few weeks ago from my wedding.”

  Jillian blushed and bustled Monique away from the group. “Of course you get the decanter. And let’s go to the spa tomorrow. Then we’ll take another look at that list of men.”

  Tristan took Charlotte in his arms and squeezed her. “I’m not letting you go this time.”

  “And I’m not running ever again.”

  Shelby rubbed her hands together. “All right, we’re still placing bets on when they’re going to tie the knot. Anyone else want in?”

  People lined up, pulling money out of wallets and purses, while Tristan and Charlotte snuck off and waited for the valet to get his car. “Your place or mine?” Tristan asked, snagging her hand in his.

  Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Whichever’s closer.”

  He kissed her forehead and pulled her to him. “So, should we call this take two?”

  “How about the last take? This time, we’re going to get it right.”

  “We will. I promise.”

  ***

  The Temp

  Shelby Shanahan was headed for the lunchroom when she paused in front of the reception desk. “Lizzy, you did something to your hair.”

  Lizzy patted her now blond curls that were tinged with the palest hint of orange. “New color at the salon.”

  Shelby cocked her head. “It washes you out. That brownish chocolate Lab color you had a few months back was better.”

  Lizzy’s smile fell. A chorus of meows cried out from her computer screen.

  “Ugh. Not more kitten videos.” Shelby rolled her eyes and headed for the door.

  “They’re good therapy,” Lizzy called after her. “Especially when you work with difficult people.”

  Who’s difficult in this office? Shelby wondered. We’re all loads of fun. Shelby pushed through the door into the hall when a guy smacked into her. He was holding a steaming cup of coffee. The scorching fluid hit Shelby’s skin.

  “Aghh! You idiot!” She dashed toward the water cooler in the break room.

  The guy chased after her. “I’m so sorry!”

  She slipped out of her blazer and doused herself with tiny paper cups of cold water. “You should be.”

  He blinked at her a few times. “Technically, you walked into me.”

  Shelby dribbled one last cup of water down her now-soaking shirt. “I don’t think so. The door swings out. People entering the office need to yield to those exiting. It’s common sense.” She crushed the cup and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. “Just because you’re good looking doesn’t mean you’re allowed to walk through life without thinking about other people and the damage your hot coffee could wreak.”

  He crossed his arms and smiled.

  She wagged a finger at him. “This may seem funny to you, but your coffee was extraordinarily hot. I’m going to have to hit the ladies room to check for blistering on my bosom.”

  He held out his hand. “Please don’t hold it against me. I’m Jared Smith. I’m temping at Dunner Advertising.”

  Ignoring his greeting, she yanked a few paper towels out of the holder and began blotting her shirt. “Hold it against you? My bosom? Not a chance. I’ve heard that joke nearly a thousand times. That happens when you’re a 38DD, you hear all sorts of boob jokes. ‘Need a hand with those?’ ‘Breast inspector, let me check if those are real.’ ‘I’m a furniture refinisher. Want me to strip your chest?’”

  “That one’s a stretch.”

  She rolled her eyes. “At
least he tried something different. ‘Hold it against me.’ Come up with something more original. It’s hard having big boobs, Jared. Hard.”

  He pressed his lips together, as if biting back a smile. “I meant the spill. Not to hold the spill against me. I wasn’t talking about…your bosom.”

  She looked down at her chest. “You wouldn’t want it held against you?”

  Laughing, he shook his head. “You say whatever’s on your mind, don’t you? Except for your name. I introduced myself but you didn’t tell me who you are.” He held out his hand again.

  Reluctantly, she shook it. It was soft yet strong, just the way she liked her man’s hands. His lovely brown hair was cut short and neat. And, oh! His sideburns. If she wasn’t nursing possible first degree burns, she might’ve shivered. “Shelby Shanahan. I’m a media buyer here. Do you always start the day with blazing hot coffee?”

  “Yes.”

  She tipped up her chin. “Then I’ll be sure to avoid you first thing in the morning.” With a nod, she walked to the restroom. She pushed open the door, tossed her blazer over a stall door, and stripped off her shirt. She tossed it into the sink and turned on the water. If that coffee stain didn’t come out, Jared Smith would be getting a bill for eighty-six dollars minus twenty percent for a year’s depreciation. It was a favorite blouse from last season, but it wouldn’t be right to charge him full replacement value after wearing it so many times.

  She wrung out the shirt, and hung it over a stall door to dry. Her bra was black, so it was hard to tell if it was stained. She put her blazer back on and hustled to the office. She had to get the word out about Jared. He was clumsy and pushy, not properly apologetic, with a mildly grating voice—and she was calling dibs on him. The man was hotter than his spilt coffee.

  Shelby spotted Jared in Jillian’s office already. Damn it, Shelby thought. That woman was a man-eater. She should have a piranha in the office fish tank, not a goldfish. With a huff, Shelby sat down at her desk and addressed an email to the entire office. Subject heading: Hands off the new guy.

  “Dear women and applicable men of Dunner Advertising, I’m calling dibs on the new guy, Jared Smith. Sorry, I saw him first. Literally, out in the hall when he showered me with coffee. He marked me. So by the laws of thousands of years of evolutionary nature, he’s mine. Shelby.”

  Finders keepers, she thought, hitting send. That’s how it worked around here. Jenny had pounced on Nolan the minute he walked into the office last year, and she wasn’t letting go of him any time soon. She’d learned early to go after what you wanted in life. Like the pillow on her grandma’s couch said: Prudence isn’t always prudent. And the one on the chair: Patience isn’t always kind.

  Shivering, Shelby glanced down and remembered her cleavage was giving everyone a free show. Her skirt was wet, too, so she scooted over to Jillian’s office. Jillian had a closet in there bigger than Shelby’s at home. Jillian sometimes changed outfits in the middle of the day if she was in a bad mood.

  Shelby rapped on the door and walked in.

  “Yes, please do come in during my closed door meeting,” Jillian said, rubbing her temples.

  Jared’s eyes bulged as his eyes settled on Shelby’s chest. He snapped his gaze away and quickly examined his feet.

  “Oh stop it, I’m sure you’ve seen much more than this at the beach. Do you freak out there, too?” Shelby said.

  “I didn’t freak out.” He wouldn’t look at her.

  “You overreacted.”

  “No, I just reacted. Anyone would.”

  She turned to Jillian. “Obviously I need to borrow a top from you. Jared dumped coffee on me this morning and my shirt is drying in the ladies room.”

  His head jerked up. “I didn’t dump it on you.”

  She placed her hands on her hips, which made the cleavage issue bigger. “We could debate word choices all day, but the bottom line is your coffee ended up on me and mine.” She tick-tocked a finger from one breast to the other.

  Jillian got up from her chair and went to her closet. “If it had been red wine, I could tell you how to get it out. Coffee, I don’t know. She pulled out a black, stretchy v-neck shirt and handed it to Shelby. “That should work.” Jillian looked Shelby up and down. “But I don’t have a skirt that would fit those hips. You’re much…curvier.”

  “I know, thank goodness. I’d hate to have a figure like a pencil. But thanks for the shirt, although your breasts are much smaller than mine.” She looked it over. “I suppose it’ll stretch enough.” She tugged on the fabric and shrugged. “It’s not the first thing I’d choose to go with this blazer, but it’ll do.”

  Jared pressed his lips together, but Shelby could still hear him laughing. “What? It won’t look that bad.”

  Jillian let out a long, breathy sigh. “If you’ve spent thirty seconds with Shelby, you’ve realized she holds nothing in. Breasts included.”

  “I don’t understand why anyone would,” Shelby said. “Oh, and Jillian, please check your email ASAP. I just sent out a very important memo that pertains especially to you. Thanks for the shirt.”

  ***

  Jared tried to concentrate on what Jillian was telling him, but he couldn’t stop thinking of Shelby. He’d never met anyone so direct, so annoying, and so attractive. Not the most likely combination, but intriguing nonetheless. And those breasts were definitely real. He didn’t need to be an official chest inspector to determine that—even though he had declared himself one at an eighth-grade dance once. That hadn’t worked out well.

  “Like I said,” Jillian continued, probably sensing his distraction, “I’m not sure why corporate sent us another accountant, but let me know if you need anything.”

  “It’s standard procedure for an internal audit. I’m going to assemble the necessary files so your team doesn’t fall behind their normal operations.” Which, technically, was the reason he was there. He needed to take a close look at their expenses. But he wouldn’t be explaining the rest of his assignment to her. Or to anyone in this office. They’d find out when he was gone.

  “Very well. Welcome to Dunner. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll have Gerard get you set up in your office,” Jillian said.

  A guy with dark, pointy glasses was waiting outside Jillian’s office. From the way he pressed his files against his chest and held his shoulders perfectly erect, Jared figured this was the office manager—the one person in the workplace who always felt unappreciated and undercompensated. Those kinds of people spilled all sorts of secrets when given even the tiniest bit of attention and praise. Gerard could be the key to the investigation for the simple cost of coffee and a bagel.

  “Mr. Smith, so nice to meet you. Follow me and we’ll get you set up in your office. How long is your assignment here?”

  “A few weeks, probably,” Jared said.

  “Do let me know if you need anything.”

  “I certainly will. I bet you’re the go-to guy in this office.”

  Gerard straightened his tie. “I am.”

  “I hope they appreciate you around here.”

  Gerard sighed. “They don’t.”

  “Well, they should. I’m sure I will. Thanks for your help.”

  “Not at all.”

  He made a mental note to bring something in for Gerard the next day. Jared sat down and logged on to the computer. Corporate had set him up to be included in the office email loop. There were already five emails in his inbox, and he noticed one from Shelby. He opened that one first, smirking as he read about her plans for him.

  Maybe Gerard wouldn’t be the one to help him find out what was going on in this office.

  By the end of the day, Jared had plenty to include in his report: chair racing in the hall, prank pages over the intercom system throughout the day, and a Silly String fight after lunch. Corporate wanted a report from him in two weeks recommending any necessary personnel changes to put an end to the “nonsense” in the Boston branch of Dunner Advertising. He already had a few people he
’d be watching closely.

  Shelby knocked on his office door just before five. “Despite our earlier literal run-in, I was curious how your first day went.”

  “Come in,” he said.

  She walked in and sat on the corner of his desk.

  He was struck again by how blue her eyes were. She smelled good, too. He made a point not to look at her chest. Shit. He snapped his eyes away from that tight black shirt. “I read some interesting emails,” he said.

  She stared at him for a moment, and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Like one from me?”

  He couldn’t hold back his smile. “I don’t think anyone has ever called dibs on me before. Not even in gym class. Especially not for gym class. Exactly what does dibs entail?”

  She pursed her lips and gripped the edge of the desk. “First of all, I apologize that you saw that. I didn’t think you were on the office email list yet.”

  “I was flattered.”

  “I suppose that’s a favorable reaction. Dibs just means I get first shot at you. Dating you, that is, not first shot at punching you or anything.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “That I’ve targeted you for a date, or that I won’t be punching you?”

  “Both.”

  Shelby smiled. “Great. Would you like to ask me out?”

  He leaned back in his chair, enjoying this more than he should. “Or you could ask me out.”

  She twirled a strand of her long, fine cornsilk hair around her finger. “No. I would like it much more if you asked me.”

  He laughed. “Okay, do you want to go out?”

  “Yes, thank you for asking. When?”

  He straightened the snow globe on his desk with the tiny train inside. His mother had given it to him for Christmas when he was seven. He had wanted a real train set, and was disappointed with the tiny toy in the glass ball he’d never be able to play with. He’d tucked it back under the tree, but his mother had seen him do it. She reached for it and gave it back to him. “I know it’s not what you asked for. But keep it. It’s a good reminder. Work hard, and someday you’ll get what you want.” So he’d kept it on his nightstand growing up. Now, it was the one thing he brought with him on each assignment. But did he truly have what he wanted? He shook away the memory. “When’s good for you?”