Ben Hartmann breezed into the HR office and laid a stack of time cards in Olivia Sanders' in-tray. "Last week," he said by way of explanation before easing himself into the chair across from her.
"Thanks," she replied, looking up from her computer screen. "What's up?"
Why was he in her office, bothering her? no doubt was what she meant to say. Telling himself to get a grip, he shrugged, "Not much. Just checking in to make sure all is good in your world..."
She smiled, the tiniest of dimples creasing her porcelain skin. "All is good. Did you have a good weekend?"
"Yeah, I guess. Been refinishing the floors in my house, so it wasn't exactly fun..."
Her nose wrinkled sympathetically, "I can imagine... now you know, if you're looking for something fun to do, we're still tossing around the idea of a front office vs. operations bowling night. Say the word and I'll set it up."
Did that mean they'd get to interact after office hours? "Do it," he answered. "We could use a little more inter-departmental bonding around here." That sounded official, right? As the Operations Manager, he was supposed to keep morale high, and maybe this would help.
Olivia favored him with a full-on grin. "Great! You guys will need to have 4-6 bowlers - if you have more, we can double up on the lanes."
Shaking his head, Ben stood, "I don't think too many participants will be the problem..."
*****
Bowling night at 300 Dallas was about to begin! Olivia was thrilled to have two full lanes, and between her and Ben, they'd divided up the employees so that they'd get to bowl with people they didn't necessarily interact with all the time. And then she relaxed and let Dave in Project Management bring her a drink from the bar.
For the most part, Olivia loved her job. Last year, she had been hired at Flemming Design as the Human Resources Manager. HR was her calling, she felt, and Flemming was a good place to work. Landing the Manager gig while still in her early 30's was icing on the cake. Sure, there was an occasional dose of office drama to deal with, but turnover was relatively low and that spoke volumes for the company.
Her eyes were drawn to Ben as he selected a ball and hurled it down the lane. Strike! God, was there anything the man couldn't do? Did he have to be stereotypically tall, dark, handsome, and a really decent guy to boot? It was all she could do to not sigh like a teenager.
And then she reminded herself that women who looked like her did not date guys like him. He was, well...almost perfect. And she was most definitely not. The forty extra pounds she was carrying in her caboose (and elsewhere) prevented her from dating in general - never mind dating someone like Ben. So, with the reality check over with, Olivia faked a smile and set about to enjoy the evening.
Alcohol flowed freely, and in a much more relaxed environment, a little flirtation arose. At first, she saw it between a designer and account manager. Then, it became a lot more personal when Dave actually patted her on the butt as she stood up to take her turn on the lane. Her cheeks flamed, as she tried to laugh it off and proceed with her turn. It bothered her. The fact was, even though she knew all the rules about sexual harassment, she was woefully inept when it came to facing situations like this in her personal life.
After bowling her frame, she turned back towards all her co-workers to see Ben embroiled in a serious conversation with Dave. Neither of them looked very happy. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Was it about her? Surely not!
Suddenly Dave smiled and clapped Ben on the shoulder in a friendly manner, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Whew! That kind of drama she did not need!
Around 10:00pm, the party started to break up. Some of the younger crowd were headed to a bar to continue the party, while the "old married folks", who were already out past curfew, headed home. Olivia stayed and paid the bill, fully intending to expense it on Monday. Ben helped out, making sure no one left anything behind in the lanes. Then he walked her to her car, like a gentleman. She reminded herself to breathe...
*****
"You okay to drive?" he asked, watching her fish in her purse for her keys.
Olivia smiled up at him, and Ben felt his heart melt. "Yeah, I'm good. Didn't really feel like I could drink much and be the company representative at the same time..."
He frowned a little, "So...when do you get to cut loose?"
She shrugged, and he thought he saw a smidge of despair in those dark brown eyes, "I don't really cut loose too much." Looking sheepish, she continued, "I guess I'm just the boring, responsible type..."
Ben chuckled, "I don't buy that completely...I think there's a little bit of a wild child inside you, just looking for an opportunity to express herself."
Then, he launched into an impressive persuasion speech at the end of which Olivia agreed to let him drive her to her nearby apartment to drop her car, then take her out to a local country bar for a few drinks and some music. "I haven't been to a honky-tonk since I was at Tech," she confessed, with a tentative smile.
He smiled back, reaching for her hand as they navigated through the crowd near the entry. "Well, I hope that's not because you don't like country music, because you would pretty much hate this if that were the case..."
"Nope...I like it well enough..." she assured him.
First stop was the bar, and then the search for a table. Ben spotted a booth near the back of the club, far enough away from the stage to not be deafening.
Why couldn't he take his eyes off her? Quit staring! he lectured himself. She looked so young...pure...beautiful eyes, skin, smile... wearing the cutest little jeans with bling on the back pockets and a filmy blue blouse that clung in all the right spots and just hinted at cleavage. He felt a million years older than she was, even though the age gap was probably less than five. What was he doing?
Olivia was making short work of her margarita, and he noted the rise of color in her cheeks. He tipped back his beer bottle and smiled at her, "Girl, you're going to need another one of those quick!"
Looking slightly embarrassed, she replied, "Trust me when I say that if you want me to cut loose, I will need to be well and truly tipsy..."
Ben laughed, "Okay, then. Come on, finish that one up and let's dance..."
The dimple in her cheek deepened, "I never figured you for a dancing sort of guy..."
Reaching for her hand, he helped her stand, "Then I guess I am full of surprises..."
"You kind of are..." she admitted as he dragged her to the dance floor.
*****
He knew how to dance cowboy style... Olivia marveled, as Ben placed his hand on her shoulder and clasped her right with his left. As she took hold of his forearm, she was impressed by the strength she felt there. Honestly she liked this hold better than the one found in traditional dance because it was hard for the guy to hold the girl too close, if she didn't want him to. Although with Ben, she really wouldn't have minded.
It was a lively two step, and Olivia found herself having too much fun to worry about the fact that she probably looked totally out of place with someone like Ben. He was twirling her, and promenading her, and generally making her look like she really knew how to dance when it was all him. When the song ended, Ben hooked his arm around her neck and kissed her slightly damp forehead, "That was fun! You're really good, Liv..."
She raised an eyebrow ironically at the compliment and replied breathlessly, "I'm a little thirsty... shall we get another drink?"
The second margarita went down even faster than the first, and Olivia could almost feel her inhibitions flying out the window. Ben made her drink some water afterwards, but it didn't stop her from talking waaayyyy too much, and leaning her head against his shoulder occasionally. They danced again, and she found herself a step closer to him than she had been previously. It felt right to be close to him, her heart insisted. (Her head was currently out of the room, so her heart was ruling things right now...)
*****
In the fourteen months since he had met Olivia Sanders, Ben had grown to really like her. It wasn't just her sweet smile, beautiful eyes and bountiful curves - although he was definitely a fan of those. She was kind, patient and intelligent. And she had been a friend to him - and he didn't have many of those. Sure, it was a "work friend" kind of thing - they would chat at the office, but never outside of it. Maybe he should have risked something sooner, because he had to admit that things were going well. Although he was plying her with alcohol, which wasn't exactly fair...
Olivia took it a little slower with her third margarita, but her flirty side was already on display. Her soft looks lasted longer, as did her touches on his arm. And the question that had been burning in her brain for hours just came tripping off her tongue, "So did you and Dave have words earlier tonight?"
He thought he'd been discreet. "A few, but everything's cool now..."
She swallowed hard, "What was it about?"
Ben took a swig of his beer, "Well... I saw your reaction earlier when he smacked your butt... so I made it clear to him that it wasn't cool, and just because you were too nice to say anything didn't mean you liked it." He paused, and continued sincerely, "I hope you don't mind that I did that..."
For a second, he thought he saw tears in her eyes, "No, I don't mind. Thank you, actually. I wanted to tell him to keep his grubby hands to himself, but couldn't find the courage..."
God, but she was sweet! He squeezed her hand, "Words aren't always necessary," he advised. "A slap across the face, elbow to the ribs or knee to the groin can get your point across too..."
She smiled, turning her hand so their palms connected, "So you're advocating physical assault?"
"Only to ward off unwanted advances..." his fingers twined with hers and he had an almost uncontrollable impulse to drag her into his arms.
With twinkling eyes, she asked, "Will you let me practice on you sometime?"
He grinned, "Are you saying you want me to let you beat me up?"
"Or, maybe we could just call it teaching me self-defense..." she amended.
The thought of grappling with her was appealing, albeit in a completely lecherous way. And while he tamped down the surge of desire, he managed to agree, "Sure then. Anytime..."
*****
They were dancing again - this time to a slow song - and Olivia was pressed right up against Ben. His arm was hooked around her neck, and hers was wrapped around his back, her head resting against his shoulder. Their feet moved very little.
She was fatigued, she reasoned. After all, it was almost 2:00 am... Or, if she was to be more honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she was out of control! He smelled so good! Whatever his cologne was, she was a huge fan. She breathed deeply, smiling when she felt his fingers caressing her earlobe.
"You asleep?" he murmured in her ear.
