All sexually active characters in this work of fiction are aged 18 years or older.
This story begins c. 1981; imagine (or recall) no cell phones, no internet, no streaming, no digital photography. Recorded music meant vinyl records. There were still smoking seats on commercial airplanes. Please adjust your frame of reference accordingly, and have a Happy New Year.
Many thanks to karaline for insightful comments and encouragement.
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Three years after graduating with my Master's degree I was working at a large engineering firm in Chicago. Out of the blue I was approached by the head of the Chicago office of the California-based consulting firm, Nydek Inc, with the proverbial better offer. I suppose my name had been getting around in the industry, at least locally. Such talent raiding was fairly common then. I'd also moved into the second floor of a two flat in a quiet neighborhood, with a charming little old German landlady who lived on the ground floor. This location was handy to the bus and transit line. Life suddenly looked good.
My new firm's office was largely a younger crowd. The head of the office couldn't have been older than 45. There was a convivial atmosphere about the place, with a fair amount of after work partying. Another of the office's attractions was a nice sprinkling of single women. I now had ample opportunity to work on my neglected flirting skills. Even the attached women loved to banter and make little innuendos with their male colleagues. This was quite different from the comparative stuffiness of my former firm.
Some Fridays after work, fifteen or so of us would hit the bar downstairs in our office tower for Happy Hour -- wings, beers, and mixed drinks. I was accepted into the Friday crowd without hesitation. I was hardly a male model, but I knew how to dress sharply, was articulate on a variety of topics, and could let my hair down. Another Friday tradition involved a group heading to the infamous Billy Goat Tavern on lower Michigan Avenue for an "extended lunch."
Despite the casual atmosphere, the younger personnel in the office also prided themselves on their productivity. The office was a living laboratory in demonstrating how high morale can translate into more work accomplished. Whenever needed, people would work unpaid overtime to get through a crunch. Blowing off steam was simply a good way to balance things out.
The partying might have significantly impacted my physique. However, my new office was located in a complex east of North Michigan Avenue near the river; this location was nearly a mile from some of my usual lunchtime haunts, the classical section of Rose Records on Wabash Avenue, or the Art Institute. I often found myself walking briskly for two miles during lunch hour. Even with the Friday tavern socializing I had slimmed down several pounds.
The only real social problem I had was that bantering with the office ladies did not result in any true interested-in-dating vibe. Also, against my better judgment, I developed a bit of an infatuation for a woman in the office named Claudia -- even though she was attached.
Claudia grabbed my attention from the first day in my new position. She was a willowy blonde, about my age or maybe a bit younger. Her styled hair neatly framed her face, which displayed a wide mouth, dazzling smile, and wide-set big blue eyes. At around 5' 10" she was just a hair taller than me. Many guys might have considered her a bit of a flawed beauty, since Claudia was quite lacking in the boob department. That didn't bother me in the least, because every interaction I had with her came with a genuinely agreeable smile, easy conversation, and the unshakeable sense that we simply enjoyed being around each other. She had a warm, engaging personality. The obstacle concerning Claudia was that she lived with her boyfriend Denny. Everybody who had met him liked Denny.
The first day I met Claudia, my new manager introduced me as "Mike." I quickly put out my hand and said to her, "Hello, I'm Michael."
She smiled and replied, "Nice to meet you, Michael." She slightly emphasized my name as she grasped my hand warmly. Claudia worked in project planning, tracking budgets and schedule.
Two days later in the hall she stopped me and said, "You really prefer to be called Michael, right?"
I nodded.
"I should remember that, but just remind me if I slip up, ok?" She beamed at me. No one else in the office had picked up so quickly how I disliked being called "Mike."
*******
One Friday the usual gang headed off to the Billy Goat for lunch. I was in a gloomy mood, facing another dateless weekend, and just didn't feel up to it. I also couldn't really concentrate on work, so I found myself more or less woolgathering at my desk.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
I looked up at the tall woman leaning casually against my cubicle entrance.
"Oh, hi, Claudia." I'm afraid my greeting lacked its usual enthusiasm since I was really feeling kind of down.
"Didn't everyone go over to Billy Goat?"
"Yeah, they did. I just wasn't up for it today."
She was having none of that. "I just finished my reports, so I'm ready for some lunch. Come on, Michael, get off your butt and let's go, they'll all still be there!"
Her enthusiasm was infectious, as was her dazzling smile. I couldn't resist getting up from my desk to join her in spite of my doldrums. Soon we were walking briskly toward the Michigan Avenue Bridge, Claudia chattering away happily. She was wearing a robin's egg blue knit wrap dress with a plunging neckline, and matching flats. I once heard her joking about this dress while pointing to her chest, because "I barely have anything here to hold it up!" I didn't care. I thought she looked stunning in it.
We crossed the bridge and went down the stairs to access the Billy Goat. Our gang had taken over several tables and pushed them together. The chatter was rather loud so I knew that the Old Style beer had already been flowing freely. The first one to spot us was Dale, a pudgy, affable designer with a big moustache and one of those carrying voices. "Hey, Michael's with Claudia!" Dale's version of a stage whisper could put cracks in the drywall. His eyes were bulging out at us.
The gang quickly grabbed two more chairs and made room for us. Only two other women were there, both of who were always friendly to me. One, Marcie, was married to Ron, another friend of mine in the office. She gave us a big smile. Our chairs secured, Claudia and I headed into the line to order our "Cheezborgers" and grab a beer.
I had braced myself for a bit of teasing over arriving with Claudia, but the by now well-lubricated gang didn't harass us at all. Everybody was just having a good time. Claudia was sitting next to me and she never let our conversation lag. I occasionally caught a whiff of her delightful scent. I could get used to this, I thought -- then I remembered about Denny. Oh, well.
We eventually headed back to the office. It was well after 2:00. I knew that our management looked the other way on Friday afternoons; hell, some of them even reserved regular Friday afternoon tee times. Claudia looked at me during the walk back. "See, aren't you glad you came?" She had her sunbeam smile working.
My mood was in fact greatly improved. "Yes, I am. Thank you for dragging my sorry ass along."
She smiled again and then grabbed my arm as we walked along. I looked quickly around, but the rest of the gang was ahead of us. I knew that we were feeling no pain, but this sort of physical contact was something new and different in our interactions. Maybe she was just miming the "dragging along" remark?
I didn't get much work done for the rest of the afternoon either. I avoided Claudia's cubicle because I didn't want any rumors swirling around our smallish office. Who was sleeping with whoever was a standard topic for animated water cooler discussion. Typically it was the single people, but I did later hear of one affair involving a married guy. That was an exception, fortunately.
The following Monday I was in the can. I had just reached the sink to wash up when Dale came in. He even opened doors loudly. He beamed at me. "Hey, you and Claudia came to Billy Goat together." I explained how she pulled me out of my bad mood that day.
"She's a friend, that's all. And obviously, she's one classy lady."
Dale nodded. "She is. I figured that you guys wouldn't be sneaking around. Unlike some other people who work here. Hey, did you hear about Vanessa kissing..."
I clapped my hands over my ears, chanting "Wah, wah, wah!" as I headed for the door. Dale guffawed loudly.
*******
Claudia seemed especially friendly to me in the weeks that followed. A few times she gave me a ride to the office. She would call me the night before and ask if I'd like a ride, and when to pick me up. It was all very casual, and very comfortable. Sometimes she would pop into my cubicle just to chitchat. Still, there was nothing overt to indicate that we were anything other than office friends -- certainly nothing like obvious flirting or revealing outfits.
One Friday we all headed down to Happy Hour at the downstairs bar. We got several plates of nachos and wings, and I was soon two gin and tonics into the evening. Claudia lit a cigarette, but then she noticed me wincing. "Oh, does the smoke bother you?"
"I'm sorry. It triggers my allergies something fierce," I said, shrugging.
She crushed the butt into an ashtray. She was not only observant but considerate. "There's no need for you to be sorry. It's no big deal to put it out. I mostly only smoke when I'm having drinks. It wouldn't hurt me to just quit, anyway."
The bar seemed to be getting louder than usual, even for Happy Hour, and it was becoming difficult to have any real conversation. Claudia leaned over to whisper in my ear, "I'm going to the ladies' room. Meet me outside in a few?" I nodded.
No one really noticed the comings and goings of people as drinks were downed. I gave Claudia ten minutes and then headed toward the restrooms. As I came out of the men's room, I turned and slipped out the bar exit. She was waiting for me by the hot dog place just down the corridor.
She smiled. "Nicely done, that was just long enough so that no one could make the connection."
I laughed, rolling my eyes. "I feel like we're characters in a bad spy novel."
Claudia giggled. "Hey, it was so loud in there I was getting a splitting headache. I just had to get the hell out. It's still early. Do you want to go somewhere else?"
We talked about some possibilities. I had a wild thought. "Would you like to get ice cream?"
"Sure, that sounds like fun! Where?"