It was never going to be the right thing to do. I knew it. But just occasionally something crosses your path that leaves you completely breathless and powerless to resist. The first time I was introduced to Mr Unavailable the 3rd he had just stepped into middle management at my work. It was before the Christmas holidays, but it wasn't until I came back from leave that I saw him with the eyes of a freshly and unrepentantly single woman. It started a fire in my belly that I shouldn't have fanned. It was a mistake to let my eyes wander every time he passed my desk. It would have been wiser to hide the smoulder in my gaze whenever I exploited a reason to visit his office. And the day we made eye contact in the corridor and he winked, well, maybe I shouldn't have melted quite so thoroughly, or so visibly! But I did. And it was at that point that the rollercoaster surged away from the station and the bar came down, irrevocably holding me in my seat until the ride was over. I don't think I minded one bit.
Those early days are like a fine glass of pinot noir to me now. Something I savour like a complex palate on my tongue. Staring through the glass at the blood red swirl, my thoughts swirl, and then I'm standing, leaning an elbow on the document destruction bin, talking to some sales guy about drafting a policy on driver responsibility in company cars.
I instantly register that he's stepped out of his office and is coming closer, but I try not to show the sales guy that my attention has shifted. It's hard. He's wearing a long sleeved pale blue business shirt with a hint of white stripe, and his ever-present tie is a dark blue today. The subtle pin stripe in his charcoal suit pants shows his muted style, and the slightly loose, chunky silver watch at his wrist brings the whole picture together as quietly successful. I realise he's looking at me. Not even caring if I've just started glowing, I invite his input into the fleet car discussion, mostly so I can keep looking back at him. His dark hair is cut above his ears and collar, but long enough to fall into slight side part. His eyes are dark too, but balanced by the disarmingly pale skin of his face. As the conversation ebbs and flows my gaze readily shifts back and forth between the two men. I take the opportunity to steal glimpses of his broad shoulders, his arms are thick at the bicep and his hands are so strong and expressive. A mobile phone rings. The sales rep answers. Did it just get warm in here?
As the sales guy excuses himself to take the call we continue talking about the specific incident of a car theft the night before. I'm not being entirely selfish when I ask if we could discuss it confidentially in his office. He turns back the way he came and from behind his behind is a whole new vision to behold. I could swear it was designed purely to be desired. In his office he sits in one of the two visitors chairs on the near side of his desk. I close the door and take the other chair. Another domino inside me falls.
So we sat, almost squarely facing each other, and talked for half an hour. The conversation was fluid, comfortable, and compelling. We ranged across various topics and I remember feeling surprised and elated by his unhurried charm. I was equally surprised by the cold prickle as my eyes were drawn again and again to the portrait of his wife and four children on the desk. Now why should that be?
So I came to my senses and took control of my imagination; the end. Not! I can curse myself the whole day long, but my inability to resist temptation is a recurring pattern and it's no newsflash to anyone that knows me. Nonetheless I didn't imagine that wink. Every chance meeting in the lunch room, every greeting in the hall, every time we looked at each other his body language made me feel as though I'd just been embraced in those powerful arms. I may have started the fire, but the heat was rising every time he added to the fuel.
