The office was silent; I stared at my PC monitor watching the little numbers dance across the screen. They still did not add up. I sighed, and twirled blonde hair around nervous fingers. I had added this spreadsheet up more times than I could count and I was still missing revenue. If it had been a few pennies I would have closed the system down and gone home but 50K would definitely be noticed.
It was 7pm, the office lights were dim against the black night seeping in through the windows. There was only me, my boss and a couple of managers left in the building. I sighed again; what I would give to be curled up on the sofa at home, drinking a glass of red wine and watching whatever mindless show was on the TV. I looked at the screen again. I had to get this report right by tomorrow morning otherwise... I did not want to even consider the alternative. I needed this job; well not the job, I needed that like I needed a hole in my head but I needed the money.
My boss was new, a stern accountant who seemed to have taken an instant dislike to me. He was not going to give an inch over this report as it was. To give him an incorrect report would be giving him all the ammunition he needed to fire me.
I shook my head at the screen; I'll get coffee maybe it would miraculously add up if I had an injection of caffeine. I doubted it but if I looked at that flickering monitor any longer I would end up running around this big silent office screaming.
I got up, wriggled my short black skirt down into place, pushed my glasses more firmly onto my nose and tucked my white shirt back into the waistband. With no one here it hardly mattered but it made me feel more businesslike. Looking the part was half the battle in this company.
I walked across the office to the coffee machine and met my boss coming out of his office.
"You still here, Tania?" he growled.
How could a man who had only met me ten days ago dislike me so much I wondered? Most people liked me.
"Yep, still here." I answered. I could hear the tiredness in my voice. God, I hope he missed it; the man was super human – the complete superman. He ran, played squash, worked out, and had two fantastic kids and a wife who ran her own company. He was here before me in the morning and left after me at night. He would not understand tiredness and that would be another mark against me. I wonder how many marks I had against me already. Today was just getting better and better.
He stopped in front of me, just too close for me to walk around him without it being obvious I was trying to avoid a conversation. I looked up at him. I was used to looking up at men as I am only 5'3" it is unavoidable. He really did have the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Maybe it was the contrast between his tanned face and the clear blue of his eyes that made them look so striking. Whatever it was I liked the result though I hated to admit it.
"So what are you working on to keep you here so late?" His southern drawl drew out the words with a lazy charm that he normally reserved for my colleagues. I was more used to hearing him shout orders than this. My face must have shown surprise, as he placed a hand on my arm and said "You're OK, aren't you? Nothing wrong?"
I could feel the heat from his hand on my arm, burning through the thin material of my shirt.
"I'm fine Paul. Just having a small problem with the quarterly report but nothing I can't work out by tomorrow." As I said this I moved slightly back, waiting for the explosion of swearing that normally occurred when I said something he did not want to hear.
"Let's take a look at the report together and see what the problem is." He patted my arm and motioned to his office. I walked in front of him in a daze. I think I liked it better when he was yelling at me this concerned understanding was making me nervous.
I went to take a seat on the visitors chair facing his desk. "No, you take my chair at the PC and bring up the report." He said pointing to his large, leather, swivel chair. One of best parts of being a Director was getting one of these chairs rather than sitting on the bottom numbing typist seats they gave all of us workers.
I nodded and moved to the chair. As I sunk into it, I could feel his warmth, retained by the leather, surround my thighs and bottom. I could feel my body react and looked down to see my nipples suddenly harden and push against my lacy white bra. I only hoped that he would not notice. I really should have worn a more concealing shirt; under my suit jacket this morning the shirt had been perfectly acceptable, now, alone with Paul it seemed too revealing and I had definitely left too many buttons undone.
I logged into his PC quickly and brought up the report that was causing all my problems. I was very aware of him standing directly behind me, his hands on the back of the chair, watching my every move.
"It's the inventory sold out vs. the sales reported, I just can't make it match." I pointed to the screen as I spoke.
Paul was standing behind the chair and leaned in closer to look at the screen. He turned to look at me, our lips were inches apart. I could feel his breath and the bitter sweet smell of his aftershave drifted towards me.
He took the mouse and highlighted the sum at the bottom of the column of numbers. "That's your problem, Tania. The formula is wrong."
