The View From the Inside

This story has been co-authored by myself and another writer who posts here. For now, the story is only listed under my name. Each section is separated by three stars, and indicates a change in author and point of view.- mlyn

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The saying was correct. It can always get worse. I'd spent the entire day putting out one fire after another, never really accomplishing anything, simply digging a deeper and deeper hole. Work had become a nightmare and normally the thought of the next two days would bring some light to the proverbial end of the tunnel, but not now. As I slipped on my jacket all I could think about was the worries of the day and the fact that it would be another weekend alone.

I'd always been a shy, quiet man. Even in my youth I'd always been the type that all the popular people had passed by and as I'd evolved into adulthood I still found myself being the object of anonymity more than affection. Short brown hair, medium height, medium build with glasses, a plain face, neither remarkable nor repulsive, the type that most beautiful women would look right through to see what awaited beyond.

The walk down the hallway was a quiet one, I had stayed behind trying to no avail to solve yet another crisis and as I pushed the button to call the elevator to the ninth floor I stood there thinking what else could possibly go wrong. The door opened and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the ground floor and the entrance began to close. "Wait, hold the door!" Like an idiot I jammed my hand between the rapidly closing doors and was rewarded with my fingers being pinched. As I stood there shaking my hand like I'd stuck it directly into a beehive through the door she came.

It was Madeline and I quickly turned my attention to my hand. I could feel my face turning red, bright red as I often did when she came into view. For the past few months, ever since she had joined the firm I had spent many an evening daydreaming about her and thoughts that I could never share in polite company. "Thanks, first floor please" as I looked up momentarily to see her wrestling with her purse and her papers, not really looking at me, per usual. I sighed and pushed the button again and our journey began.

*****

"Shit!" I said out loud, without thinking. I looked up and saw the man who had held the elevator for me. I had to smile. He was shaking his hand. "I'm sorry you hurt your hand. I could have waited, after all it's not like this was the last elevator for the weekend."

I tried shifting my belongings but that was a big mistake- no, huge mistake. Everything started a slow slide as gravity once more won this round. Papers spewed out, and then my half-opened purse decided to join in the fun. It descended topside down of course, and the contents began spilling out across my papers. A woman's worst nightmare was unfolding right before my eyes. I closed my eyes, cursing the fates. Today was my birthday, and as a joke, my assistant had given me a jumbo packet of condoms, telling me to "please go out and have fun!" Obviously, her idea of fun involved sex. So not only did the usual lipstick, spare tampon, ink pen, and lifesavers candy spill out, so did the jumbo pack of condoms, which proudly proclaimed it was a multi style pack as well. I was not promiscuous, but nor was I a virgin. But seeing a pack of 20 condoms spilling from my purse, I suddenly believed the word slut was emblazoned across my forehead.

The man who had held the elevator for me was already bending down to help gather up my possessions and papers. I squatted down quickly, intent on retrieving the condoms first. And maybe it was fate, but the elevator suddenly jerked, rattled and came to a complete stop. Being balanced precariously in a squat-position and wearing a much too short skirt and my new three-inch heels, it wouldn't have taken much to tumble me. And that is exactly what I did next. Only, in my usual klutzy style, I brought down the house with me. I pitched forward and reached out my hand thinking I might catch hold of something to stop my fall. I did, sort of.

Suddenly, the world was operating in slow motion. I saw my hand connecting with his bent thigh. And since he was wearing a very nice suit, the material was a bit slippery. My hand slipped, straight into his crotch. I yelped in a very unladylike fashion and found I was falling forward, towards my rescuer. And if it had been any other day than my fortieth birthday, I would have appreciated the humor of the situation. My knight errant was none other than William, whom I had felt an inexplicable attraction to since the first time I saw him in the office. I think it was his shy smile that appealed to me, in comparison to the usual office lotharios who spent most of their time staring at my boobs and trying to figure out how to get in my pants. We had had a few passing conversations, but nothing substantial. I would have sworn that I gave him a welcoming smile several times, but he always ignored me. I had stopped after the third time, deciding that if he wasn't interested, then neither was I.

Of course, I didn't fall for that psycho-babble claptrap! I still lusted after him from afar. Once I had come in early, to check out the firm's gym. I had seen him working out, all sweaty and hot. I had been surprised at the muscles that were hidden by his suits. And of course, that was a mistake. I had to start all over in my campaign to pretend he didn't exist. I had thought I was finally making some headway. But somehow, even I knew that lying on top of William, with my hand still covering his manly crotch, was not the way to forgetfulness.

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