Flawed Red Sil

She’s no Angel

I have worshipped Angela for months, ever since she joined us as a Senior Buyer. I am a Senior Buyer too but most of us are colourless individuals, good at negotiating with salespeople and unimpressed by their sales technique. We know they want to seduce us into buying the lines they can’t shift elsewhere. Our job is to buy what our chain of stores can sell and nothing else.

When Angela arrived she made an immediate impact. She has a very strong personality and made it obvious on the first day. Apart from her elegant power dressing and great figure she cannot be ignored in any gathering. She is an in-your-face person. I fell in love.

I watched her furtively whenever I could. Even brushing her gleaming black tresses back from her face she made a sexual movement. She was sex personified and I was transfixed. I tried to sit close to her on every occasion. If she had noticed me I would have probably blushed and retreated back into my shell but she ignored me. To her I was part of the office décor. I wasn’t a threat or a challenge so I wasn’t worth considering. She wanted to be a Chief Buyer and soon. Anyone who wasn’t in her way was useless.

Even her indifference aroused me. I wanted to be appreciated by her. I would have been a doormat for her to walk on if it would give her pleasure and if she would show something of herself to me. My infatuation was obvious to everyone else except her.

My colleague Michelle tried to distract me. She tried to convince me that Angela wasn’t an angel or a goddess but a power-hungry bitch. I listened to Michelle because I liked her but I couldn’t believe that Angela was as shallow as Michelle said she was. I put it down to jealousy.

Michelle was a very different person. She was quiet, almost as self-effacing as I was yet with talent and brains. I suppose I have some too or I wouldn’t be a Senior Buyer. My boss seems to appreciate what I do, at least that is what he says when I have my monthly reviews with him. I don’t make mistakes. I do what I am supposed to do and although I may not have the spark and flair that Angela waves around like a flag I am competent and efficient. My boss does have to fight me. If he wants something done his way and I disagree, we discuss it. Sometimes he is right, sometimes I am right. It doesn’t matter who is right as long as the buying gets done correctly.

With Angela it is different. Her disagreements with the boss are public and loud. If she is overruled she makes it plain that she is unsatisfied. She thinks she knows it all. She is good but not as good as she thinks she is. That was a flaw that I ignored while I worshipped her. No. That’s not fair to her. While I worshipped her I couldn’t see any flaws at all.

In January we had a meeting to discuss what we should buy for the Autumn. Angela was in full flow. She wanted to change the world, to change all our buying methods, to seek out small manufacturers with unique designs – that sort of thing. I watched in awe as she verbally demolished all the principles I had been taught. The rest of us didn’t get much chance to contribute because Angela was throwing down a challenge to the boss. Eventually he agreed to let her have her own way on a small part of our range of stock. She could try her methods but it was obvious that she had told to prove her case or leave.

I was frightened for her. I thought my beloved Angela had pushed too far and if she couldn’t deliver she would lose her job. If she went, who could I worship? A large part of my life and dreams would leave with her.

At the end of the meeting the boss asked me to stay behind for a few minutes. That might seem ominous but I was unafraid because I knew that I was on top of my job and performing satisfactorily.

“Trevor,” he said, “I have a small problem.”

“Yes, Mr. Graham, can I help?”

“I think so. It is a very silly thing. You buy from Christopher Jones of Silk Designs 4 U sometimes, don’t you?”

“I think all the buyers will have some dealings with that firm, Mr. Graham.”

“OK. Mr. Jones has sent us a present.”

“We’re not supposed to accept presents, are we?”

That is what the firm’s rules for buyers said. We ignored token things like desk diaries, pens etc. but we had to declare any gift that had a value.

“I don’t think the rules cover this. He has sent us a Valentine’s Day present. Do you see my dilemma?”

I thought. Most of the Senior Buyers were married. I wasn’t. The other unmarried ones were ladies.

“I think so,” I said cautiously.

“I can’t give a Valentine’s present to the married buyers. If I chose a woman I could be accused of bias and perhaps sexual harassment.”

I knew he was thinking of Angela at that point. She could be prickly.

“So that leaves you. You can’t use the present yourself but you could give it to a young lady of your acquaintance.”

He pushed a padded envelope across his desk to me. I peered inside and then pulled out a pair of bright red silk French knickers. They were magnificent. I held them up. Mr. Graham laughed.

“You can see my problem, Trevor. I could be faced with a Judgement of Paris if I gave them to one lady on the staff. I am their boss and a gift like those panties could be misconstrued.”

“Yes Sir, they could.”

I folded them gingerly and slid them back in the envelope.

“Please be discreet with them, Trevor.” Mr. Graham added.

I nodded. Then he told me that he was pleased with my work “as always”. Then I left.

Back in the main office I pushed the envelope into my briefcase.

Nothing else happened until Valentine’s Day. I continued to worship Angela from afar. She ignored me. Michelle treated me as a human being and I reciprocated. We worked well together in our quiet way while watching Angela’s dramatic approach.

I came to work very early on Valentine’s Day, well before anyone else. I laid a neatly wrapped parcel on Angela’s desk before returning to my desk and clearing some outstanding paperwork. Michelle was the next to arrive. She came straight over to my desk. I looked up at her. She bent down and kissed me on the cheek.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Trevor,” she said as she stroked her hand over my head.

“Thank you, Michelle. Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.”

She looked expectant. She stood waiting and then said:

“You should at least return my kiss.”

I turned my head up towards her, reaching out an arm to pull her closer. She kissed me full on the lips. I enjoyed it and responded.

“That’s better,” Michelle said. “See you later.”

She went off towards the Ladies washroom. I looked furtively in a small mirror I kept in my desk drawer. Michelle hadn’t left lipstick on me.

I waited expectantly until Angela arrived. As usual she made an entrance expecting everyone to be looking at her. We were. I hadn’t noticed but a couple of Valentine cards had been left on her desk as well. She opened the cards ostentatiously and pinned them to the notice board behind her desk. Then she picked up my present. It wasn’t my imagination. The whole room, about thirty people were waiting for her to open whatever it was. Angela wouldn’t be Angela if she had opened the present discreetly.

She tore at the wrapping paper with her long red nails. My card fell out. She glanced inside it and continued to unwrap the parcel. The French knickers fell on to her desk with a slither. The bright red shone and shimmered. Angela held them up between her hands. Everyone could see them and what a magnificent pair of panties they were. Then Angela stood up and started shouting.

“OK! Fellow worker, whoever you are. I don’t appreciate this! I don’t mind getting cards or presents but these…” She waved the panties in one hand like a banner. “…are too much! I don’t like the implication that I would wear anything some cowardly anonymous worker has sent. If anyone thinks they have the right to buy me underwear then I hope they would do it quietly, not advertise the relationship. And none of you FELLOW WORKERS have that right. I don’t want them. I won’t wear them. I will leave them here until tomorrow and I hope that the spineless worm who sent them will take them away and give them to some floes who will like them.”

Angela threw the panties over the edge of the filing cabinet next to her desk. They were very conspicuous. I tried to melt into the background but several people were looking my way. I knew they had guessed that I had sent them. I hoped Angela didn’t know.

How I had misjudged her. In that shouted speech all the mist of illusions I had built around her had been blown away as if by a strong gale. I know saw Angela as she really was, a self-centred selfish posturing bitch who would jump on anybody who got in her way. It was a shattering experience that shook me.

Suddenly Michelle stood in front of me.

“Coming for a coffee, Trevor?” she asked.

“Er, yes. That would be nice,” I said automatically. She held out her hand. I took it. She pulled me from my chair and through the office to the tearoom. I followed her like a child holding its mother’s hand.

“Sit down, Trevor,” she told me. I sat.

She started to make the coffee. I watched in a daze.

“You have been silly, haven’t you, Trevor?” Michelle said in a conversational tone.

“Yes.” I admitted. “Although silly isn’t a strong enough word for it.”

Michelle stopped making coffee. She took my head between her hands and kissed me. Then she held my head to her breasts and rocked me. I realised that this was a nice place to be. I slid an arm behind her back and squeezed. She kissed me again before returning me to her breasts.

“Never mind, Trevor. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t make occasional mistakes. This was a big one but you’ll get over it. I’ll help you if you want me to.”

What could I say? I was being hugged by a real woman who seemed to want me. Angela had never wanted me or anyone who couldn’t help her rise. Michelle had always been there as a friend. These breasts were very friendly. I started to cry against them. Michelle clutched me closer and squashed my face into her cleavage. I felt an erection beginning. Michelle’s breasts, that I had hardly noticed, were now the most desirable in the world. I looked up at her through my tears.

“Why couldn’t I see you, Michelle?”

She understood what I meant.

“Because you had a crush on someone who didn’t exist, at least not as you imagined her. Angela is what she is. Everyone else could see it. You couldn’t because you were imagining her to be a goddess, an angel perhaps. She would reject any such idea. She KNOWS what she is. She knew that you were infatuated and it amused her until today.”

“I’m sorry, Michelle. Will you forgive me?”

She shoved my head back into her cleavage.

“Of course I will, Trevor. Will you do one thing for me?”

“Anything.” I said.

“Don’t be too rash. It’s quite simple. Just get those panties back and give them to me. Will you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Trevor.”

“Michelle?”

“Yes, Trevor.”

“Will you come out to dinner with me tonight?”

“Yes, Trevor. How about that coffee now?”

“Yes, please. You make it for me. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I walked out of the tearoom back into the office. I walked up to Angela’s desk, picked up the red panties, nodded at her and walked back to the tea room leaving Angela speechless for once.

“Here you are, Michelle,” I said, handing her the panties. “They are a present for Valentine’s Day with all my love.”

“You just took them from Angela’s desk?”

“I did. Everyone else was watching.”

“And you brought them straight to me?”

“Yes. By now everyone knows that I have given them to you.”

Michelle kissed me again, over and over.

“I think that was very brave of you. Are we engaged?”

“Probably. The whole office knows that I have chosen you and defied Angela to do it. Would you like a formal proposal?”

Michelle nodded.

I dropped to one knee, lifted her hand and said:

“Michelle, will you marry me, please?”

“Yes, Trevor, I will.”

Angela didn’t speak to me for a week. Within a month she had joined another company. By that time I had seen Michelle in the red silk panties and from then on I never regretted snatching them from Angela’s desk.

NaNoWriMo 2003