Ethics forbid it, but then again I was never really one for following rules. My co-workers would often make snide remarks about the flirtatious relationship I had with my boss; however, I thought nothing of it. A little flirting never killed anybody, and besides, we were both married adults. "He is just a nice person; he means nothing by it..." I would argue back, generally annoyed at the commentary from women who ignored their responsibilities to spend time criticizing the entire office staff. There was no way he could ever be interested in me; it was playful, it was all in good fun. Aside from that, he had made his preferences in a woman widely known; I could never make the cut.
Two years passed with growing concern over our budding friendship. I shrugged off the commentary one Friday as I dipped out of work early to prepare for a weekend trip to New York City. Hours passed as I readied myself for a weekend away, making sure that my husband could survive on his own during two days absence. At nine o'clock I kissed my husband goodbye and boarded a bus bound for New York City. Surrounded by fifty other women, my cell phone began to vibrate. I sat near my sister, who was far too concerned with the women behind us to notice the glow-in-the-dark, white skin of my face turn a deep shade of red. Lightheaded, claustrophobic, I shoved my cell phone into my pocket. I pulled it back out and stared at it. I hid it again, and then looked at it once more. What the fuck was he trying to say?
The admission of his attraction to me had really come as quite a shock. As I mentioned before, my boss is married, as am I. I failed to mention however, the age difference; to put it kindly, he is more experienced than I. A recent college grad, I am at least half the age of the majority of our staff; he could have his pick of many a mid-forties woman in our office, but scrawny, pasty, little ole me? The banter regarding his attraction to me continued via text message until my phone died, prior to my arrival in New York City. When I returned from my trip, he seemed ashamed at his admission, to which I asked, "Why me?"
In the coming weeks, we both became more forthcoming about our attraction to one another, keeping it under wraps, of course, as it was only ethical to lie about this sort of thing. Several days later, I found myself sending him risqué photos, kissing him after hours, flashing him in the confines of his office, and sucking him off in his truck on a side street near the interstate. And then my husband gave me the news; he would be leaving town the following week to attend a seminar for work.
