Danielle Steele ain't got nothing on me

As she traveled towards the back of the office, she twirled her hair
about her finger, suddenly nervous about confronting him and even
thinking about turning around and making copies later. Maybe he'd
leave for lunch today. Not that it was likely, he always took his
lunch at his desk.

She passed his desk and in a moment of what must have been great
courage, threw a knowing smile at him. He nodded in the current trend
of male greeting. She found it slightly funny that this gesture had
come to replace the more common wave of the hand. Maybe he thought it
made him look more manly but she could only picture rows of men
greeting one another in this bobble head fashion.

She turned the corner and headed towards to copy machine when he
called her name. The sound of him pushing aside the stale office air
with the syllables of her name was slightly alarming. It could not be
recalled if he had ever even said her name before. She pretended she
did not hear him, embarrassed that others in the office might find her
acknowledgment of him suspicious. Such trepidation was worthless,
rumors of a fling had surfaced months before in the typical fashion of
water cooler conversation.

She may have known this, but she prided herself in keeping very much
to herself while at work, well aware that it was no place to feed
rumors. She remained friendly towards everyone but was
characteristically reserved. As long as she hid beneath the covers of
denial, all was right in her mind.

She bent down to reload the paper into the tray of the copier,
struggling the free it from the body of the machine. Suddenly, she
felt a hand lightly trace a line down her back. Before she could
realize it was him, he had assumed a kneeling position on the floor
and said "let me help you". Startled and unsure of what to think or
what to do, she remained next to him on the floor, hovering over the
machine.

After much struggle he freed the tray and set it onto the floor.
Before he stood up he whispered into her ear "I missed you in the
morning. Why did you leave?". The words sent pangs of shock through
her limbs. She felt the energy invade each blood vessel, carefully
making its way to the surface of her skin. The hair on her arms seemed
to rise in the most painstakingly slow motion. She was certain her
face was flushed. As he walked away, the ability to stand up evaded
her.

What happened between them had not been real until right then. It
wasn't until his words acknowledged their off the clock activities
that the sheer stupidity of her actions overcame her. Now she wondered
if anyone had witnessed their episode with the copy machine. It was
entirely likely that fifteen people had walked by. From somewhere, she
found composure. She escaped out the back door and walked the entire
circumference of the building only so that she didn't have to meet his
eyes with hers again.

As the cool wind whipped her hair back and forth she found that the
last thing she wanted to do was go back and sit at that desk. Repulsed
by the looks she expected to see grace the faces of her co-workers,
because if they hadn't known before they surely did now.

But as she reached for the handle of the heavy leaded glass door,
finding for some reason that the door was quite beautiful, her whole
attitude was transformed. She walked slowly, in a way much different
then her usual determined stride. She had decided that she didn't care
what anyone thought. Somehow, in the mere minutes she spent outside
her fear had transformed into defiance. She deserved this. Only a year
later would she regret that decision.

After she settled in she sent a coy message over the office e-mail
system, asking if he had any plans for the evening.