Office Flirts! 5 Romantic Short Stories

by Scott, Lisa

  “Now,” she said, face serious.

  He laughed. “Now?”

  “There’s a great bar down the street. Why put it off? The rest of the week will be awkward if we wait until Friday, with both of us fretting as our upcoming rendezvous grew nearer and nearer, wondering if the other regretted making the date. Let’s do it today, and then we’ll decide if we want to see each other again. If not, I’ll call off my dibs and let someone else have you. You’re a temp. It’s not like there’s time to waste.”

  The way she said it made perfect sense. “Okay. Let’s go.” He might just learn everything he needed to know about Dunner Advertising that night. And some extra time with Shelby wouldn’t be so bad either.

  ***

  Shelby led Jared to The Bar None and walked up to the sleek counter which had giant TVs hanging overhead. “Since you invited me, I expect you to pick up the tab. Just want to make that clear upfront.”

  “Of course. What’ll you have?” He pulled out a barstool for her and she sat down.

  “Good news, I’m cheap. I’ll take a diet soda. I don’t drink alcohol. It lowers my defenses.”

  “Really? I can’t imagine them being much lower,” he said.

  “I’ve done some silly things after imbibing.”’

  His eyebrows shot up. “I’d like to hear about that.”

  “Later. I need to see if things work out here before sharing those secrets. You think I’m just going to tell you anything?”

  “No, no of course not.”

  He ordered their drinks and realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since she knocked on his office door. And that was saying something. He wasn’t one to smile non-stop—not even on Christmas when he was a kid. He’d usually spent the day ruminating over what he didn’t get—a fire truck, a video game, a father. That train. He was pretty sure it was the disappointing Christmases that started him on the road to lower expectations out of life. Ho, ho, ho. Low, low, low.

  “Did you get the coffee out of your blouse?” he asked.

  “I did, lucky for you. It was an expensive shirt.”

  “And it looked great on you, so I’m glad I’ll get to see you wear it again.” He was pleased to see her blush.

  The bartender brought their drinks over, and he handed the soda to her. She leaned back from him and reached for it. “I need some time before I can trust you with beverages.”

  “I promise to keep my space.”

  She cocked her head, watching him. “I’m impressed.”

  “Why?”

  “The baseball game is on, and you haven’t looked at the TV over the bar once. Or my boobs. You’ve been maintaining very good eye contact.” She nodded. “That’s important. That tells me you’re interested.”

  He felt his jaw drop a little. “I don’t know how to describe you,” he said. “There’s a word I’m looking for…”

  “If you’re suggesting there’s a diagnosis, yes, I’m certain there is, but my mother didn’t want to have me tested and labeled.” She took a long drink of her soda. “Speaking of labels, is there anyone who can call you their boyfriend?”

  “Nope. No girlfriend.”

  She narrowed an eye. “A boyfriend?”

  He laughed. “Uh, definitely not.”

  “Just want to cover all bases.”

  He nodded. “Of course. I’m assuming you would’ve come right out and told me if you had a boyfriend,” Jared said. “Or called him and asked for permission to go out with me.”

  “Oh, I’d never ask a man permission for anything.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Her eyes lit up as she grinned. “So that means things are going well, if you’re retaining information for future encounters?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Excellent. I have a few questions for you. How do you feel about cats?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Uh, how many do you have?”

  “None. I don’t like them.”

  “Very good. Neither do I.”

  She held up a finger. “But you weren’t willing to tell me that until you knew my stance on cats.” She shook her head. “You’ve got to be upfront with me.”

  “You’re right.” He was so used to being guarded in his work, he did it in his personal life, too. “Upfront” definitely wasn’t a word he’d use to describe himself. Evasive. Indirect. Even misleading, those were more like it. “Did you have any more questions for me?”

  “Do you live in town, or did corporate send you in from somewhere else?”

  “I live in Boston.”

  “Wonderful. Because I don’t do long distance,” she said. “It’s good to know there’s room for our relationship to progress after you leave the office. How long will you be at Dunner?”

  “Just a few weeks at most.”

  “And what is it you’re doing exactly?”

  “Gathering data.” Which wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth, either.

  Shelby set down her drink and stood. “Okay, that went well. I’m going now.”

  Relieved he didn’t have to talk more about his work, Jared stood, too. But he was a bit disappointed their time together was ending already. “Can I walk you to your car?”

  “No, I live a few blocks away, and if you walk me there it could get awkward at the door. We’re not ready for a first kiss yet. That’s two, maybe three dates away. When should we get together again?”

  Soon, he thought. His time with Shelby had been unusual, but nice. “Friday?”

  “But it has to be a real date. Not just stopping here after work.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up for dinner. Say six o’clock?” he asked.

  “Sounds good. I’m going to send another email tomorrow confirming my dibs status on you.”

  He chuckled. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”

  “Again, let’s wait until you’re done with your coffee.”

  He watched her walk out of the bar and realized he hadn’t asked her a thing about the employees at Dunner. And he felt something odd inside—was it anticipation?

  ***

  Shelby sent out another strongly worded email warning the women of Dunner to stay away from Jared. True to his word, he didn’t stop to say hi until ten o’clock when his coffee was long gone. She made a note to give him a few points for that.

  After knocking on her office door, she invited him in to sit down. “Glad to see you came back for day two. Some of the people who work here can be overwhelming. We lost a couple interns because of Jillian’s perfume, and that’s the least of our troubles here.”

  He cocked his head. “Oh?”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Just the usual dirty jokes that float around email loops and the occasional supply closet hook-ups.

  “Hook-ups? In the closet?”

  “They shut the door. Come on. You’re a temp. I’m sure you’ve seen worse at other offices.” She unscrewed the top of her water bottle and poured some into the spider plant on her desk. “So tell me, do you have any allergies—nuts, latex?”

  “Um, no.”

  She picked a few dead fronds off her plant. “Excellent. I won’t have to limit our choices in cookies or condoms should it come to that. I make a divine walnut chocolate chip bar.”

  He blinked rapidly. “Wow.”

  “You can say that again. You won’t be able to stop at one.”

  Jared’s cell chirped with an incoming text message. He dug it out of his pocket and checked the screen. “I’ve got to go.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “It really is.”

  “I haven’t even asked you about your credit score yet.”

  “There’s always tomorrow.”

  “You’re right. Optimism. I like that.”

  Later that night, she baked a double batch of walnut chocolate chip bars—one for Jared, the other for the rest of the office. Then she sat down and reviewed the inquiries on her dating questionnaire. It was a list of fifty informative questions she
’d compiled for prospective boyfriends to fill out: favorite color, dream vacation destinations, emergency preparedness status, etc.

  Although, come to think of it, she’d only invited two men to fill it out, and one of them didn’t pass. She wasn’t flexible about flossing. Who doesn’t floss? It suggested a total disregard for cultural norms and gum health.

  Jared stopped by after ten again the next morning, and she presented him with the cookies and the questionnaire.

  He looked it over, smiling, and then raised his eyebrows. “Burial preference?”

  “If you’re planning on cremation, I can’t guarantee I’ll follow through with your wishes. It freaks me out. I can’t have you sitting on my mantle someday. It’s something we should discuss before we go any further.”

  “We haven’t gone that far.”

  “I’ve made you cookies. We have a second date planned. That’s further than most guys get. You’re lucky. Most men annoy the hell out of me.”

  He looked down at the papers. “Huh. So, I’m supposed to fill this out?”

  “Before Friday if possible. But the good news is, you can ask me any questions you want. And I’m going to fill out the questionnaire, too.”

  “That is good news,” he said.

  “But can you tell me one thing now?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Blue.”

  She sighed. What a generic answer. “What kind of blue? There are hundreds of shades.”

  “I don’t know, blue blue?”

  “Baby, midnight, azure, cerulean…”

  “Cobalt?”

  “Great. Thank you.” She stood up and gestured to the door. “You can leave now.”

  ***

  Shelby went through her closet that night, surprised she didn’t own anything in cobalt. That meant a trip to the mall. Which meant she needed someone to go with her. She’d once bought arm warmers in three different colors because they were on sale. She wasn’t born with a keen shopping gene. She picked up her phone to make a call she’d never made before. “Lizzy? It’s Shelby. Can you come shopping with me?”

  ***

  Shelby met Lizzy at the mall entrance an hour later. Shelby checked out Lizzy’s new ‘do. “You’re back to chocolate Lab brown. Good.”

  Lizzy smoothed her hand over her hair. “You were right. The other color did wash me out. Thanks for saying so instead of just telling me, ‘It’s looks so nice!’ in a super fake voice like everyone else.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to quit the kitten videos, too?” Shelby asked as they walked into the store.

  Lizzy’s smile fell. “No.”

  Shelby paused. “I’m not buying any clothing with cats on it, just so you know.”

  Lizzy headed for a rack of sweaters. “He’s rather mysterious, don’t you think?”

  “Who?” Shelby asked.

  Lizzy rolled her eyes. “Jared. The guy you’re buying a shirt for.”

  “The shirt’s for me to wear. But mysterious? How so?”

  “He doesn’t say much. No one’s sure exactly why he’s here.” She paused. “It’s funny, he’s almost the total opposite of you. You put it all out there, he keeps it all in.”

  “Huh,” Shelby said. “Guess I was too busy noticing his thighs to catch that. When you can see muscle definition through dress pants, that’s saying something.” She held up a paint sample of cobalt blue to a sweater and frowned. “That’s more like ultramarine, isn’t it?”

  “Or cerulean, maybe? Well, opposites attract, right?” Lizzy held up a silky sky-blue shirt with a deep v-neck. “Wear this and he’ll be attracted, opposite or not.”

  Shelby cocked her head, examining it. “It’s close to cobalt. Maybe Persian blue.” She paused. “Do you think it comes down to that?”

  “What? The right color blue?”

  “Or the right shirt. The right hairdo that night. Either he’s attracted or not, right?”

  “I suppose. But a little help never hurts.” Lizzy sucked in a breath. “You should color your hair. Add some pink highlights?”

  “What? No! Why would I do that? This is natural. People pay for their hair to look like mine.”

  “I guess. I just find that guys like to mix things up a little. A new hair color, new cut, new panties, no panties…”

  Shelby shrugged. “Or I can just ask him if he likes me.” She put the shirt back on the rack. “I’m not going to buy that. A shirt’s not going to make him like me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with trying to pretty up a package. Aren’t gifts more fun when they’re exquisitely wrapped?”

  Shelby thought for a minute. “You’re right. They are. I love that curly ribbon stuff.” Shelby took the shirt off the rack. “I’ll try anything once.”

  ***

  Jared knocked on her office door the next morning at nine. “Got any more of those cookies?”

  “You’re not armed with coffee are you? Or did you spill it on some other woman?” Shelby asked. “Remember, I called dibs, so technically, you can’t do that.”

  “Nope. Drank it already, didn’t spill a drop.”

  “Okay, you can come in, but if you’re just here for my cookies, don’t bother. They’re all gone. Although I did see Chuck with a bunch of them.”

  He sat in the chair across from hers. “Think he’d give me one?”

  “Possibly, but I don’t know if you could trust him not to slip in a hunk of chocolate laxative. You know, the stuff that looks like little candy bars you accidentally eat as a kid when you’ve run out of Halloween treats and then miss two days of school when it kicks in, but somehow still long for the taste of their sweet waxiness?”

  He cocked his head. “The employees here poison each other?”

  “Not all the time. And laxatives aren’t really poisonous, are they? There was champagne in the water cooler once, though no one seemed to mind.”

  “Who does something like that?”

  “Chuck and Jenny I think—”

  He cut her off. “I don’t want to know. If I ask nicely, will you just make more for me?”

  “Then how will I ever know if you like me for me or for my cookies?”

  His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I liked you before I had the cookies. You had me at ‘You idiot!’”

  “That’s the first thing I said to you, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll never forget it. I thought damn, I’ll never have a chance with her now.”

  Shelby’s heart felt like it was in her throat. She swallowed, trying to push it back into place. “Really? Are you just saying that to get more cookies?”

  “No. I mean it.”

  “Good.” She crossed her arms. “Because I like people who are upfront about things. The way I am.”

  He stared at her for a moment. “Upfront is good.”

  “Most guys don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “The guys I’ve dated only hear what they want to hear. ‘Oh, no, it’s fine if you cancel our plans at the last minute to go out with your friend who’s cheating on his girlfriend with two strippers,’” she said, in a mock falsetto voice. She continued. “’Oh, yes, that was wonderful. Two minutes is totally normal and totally satisfying.’ Guess what? If I’m not satisfied, I’m going to tell you.”

  He coughed. “Wow. That is upfront. But good. Honestly.”

  “I know, right? But most people aren’t like that. I don’t understand why people just don’t come out and say what they mean. It would be so much easier for everyone.”

  He stared off, nodding. “Maybe it would.”

  “Oh, I have something else for you.” She handed him an envelope. “It’s my questionnaire. Is yours done?”

  “I’ll finish it tonight.”

  “You have to answer them all—honestly. No use getting together if you don’t return shopping carts to the corral. That’s so rude.”

  ***

  He returned the survey the
next morning in a sealed manila envelope. She wanted to rip it open and dissect it, but that wouldn’t be appropriate at work. So she waited until she was home and spent Thursday night reading his answers. She was a little concerned that he answered “What are your emergency preparedness plans” with “I carry two condoms”—did he really not have two weeks of water and food stockpiled in his apartment? But she was thrilled to learn that while he did not donate blood, he would consider it. After reviewing it twice, she texted him. “Your survey is acceptable. We can move forward with the date.”

  He quickly texted back. “Best news of the day.”

  ***

  Friday night, Jared was at her door right at six.

  “You didn’t lie about being punctual. Did you end up here right at six, or did you spend some time thinking about it? Like showing up early might make you seem too eager, showing up late might be too rude?”

  He looked down, laughing. “I might have hung out in front of your building for a few minutes before I came in.”

  “You’re being open. I like that. I’ll let you have some of my dessert.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  She paused. “I should’ve cleared that up before tonight. Sharing desserts is a must and if you can’t do that…”

  “Okay, to be honest, I normally don’t, but tonight seems like a good time to try.” He tilted his head and squinted at her head. “Is that Christmas ribbon in your hair?”

  She tugged on the little bit of curly white ribbon she’d tied to a tiny braid in her side part. “A friend suggested it. Do you like it?”

  “I don’t like Christmas, but I like that on you.”

  She froze. “You don’t like Christmas?” she whispered. “I never thought to put that on the survey.”

  “Give me a chance to explain over dinner,” he said.

  “Okay. I can be flexible.” She held out her hand, waiting for him it to take it. “Shall we?”

  ***

  Luckily, Jared was open to sharing appetizers, too. She hadn’t thought to ask that in the survey. She’d have to add that in. Although it would be nice not to have to distribute that questionnaire anymore. She liked Jared. A lot. “So how does Dunner compare to other places you’ve worked?”