I can still remember the day, it was nearly six years ago when I gave my first speech to the New York office. I can't remember exactly what I said as I looked out at the hundred-plus faces for the first time but what I recall the most was wanting to scream, "FUCK YOU." Not at my staff you understand, I love them all, but at the corporate bullshit that had tried its hardest to stop me from succeeding as a woman. Yet there I was at 42, standing in front of my own office as 'the boss'.
I should have got the promotion back home in Houston, but it was considered a 'plum' job. It was accepted therefore, that it had to go to the right 'man' in the company. I think they were almost surprised when I moved to New York, halfway across the country but I was determined to succeed whatever the cost.
Part of that price was my marriage which to be honest wasn't so much a loss, but more of a mercy killing of a wounded animal. John and I had been limping along for a few years, living pretty much separate lives. He stayed and I left, moving into an apartment in Manhattan that had the most stunning views across the city. The one thing that kept running through my head was that somehow, I had failed.
Turning to the group I looked into their faces, determined I would never fail anyone of them. Fixing a smile to my face, I started my speech.
*****
I seemed to settle in fairly well as the office started to buzz with both productivity and happiness as people became more settled in their work. The previous boss had been very stand-offish, whereas I wanted to create a more family feeling. I told everyone that if my door was open, they were to walk in and I would be happy to talk. Likewise, if it was closed then I wasn't to be disturbed. I did my best to make sure it was open as often as possible.
I encouraged staff social and sporting events, and helped set up a women's basketball team as I played a bit back in college and insisted that on the court, I was Janice, not the boss. It was there that I met Kayla and my life changed.
*****
"You look so nice in business attire, boss, not only in basketball gear."
I looked up to see the smiling face of Kayla who was leaning casually against the door frame. She was one of the rising stars in the office and also a damn good basketball player. A little younger than me, perhaps in her early 30s, but like me tall and athletic.
I could see on her face she was nervous, so I laughed, "How many times do I have to tell you Kayla call me Janice." I was casual but a bit surprised at her words, so without thought I followed with, "Did you think I looked good in basketball gear?"
"Oh! I thought you saw my admiring looks."
Then she blushed, before putting down the papers she had bought and left. As she walked away it suddenly dawned on me that she was flirting with me, something that hadn't happened in many years. My head was spinning as she was a woman like me. I didn't think I gave off any gay vibes, maybe it was being divorced, who knows? What I did know was it made me feel good.
*****
A few weeks later the game was cancelled so I decided to stay late in the office as didn't have any urgent reason to go back to the apartment. As I sat at the desk my phone buzzed with a text message. Looking down I saw it was from Kayla.
"Game cancelled. Do you fancy a drink? xx"
I stared at the text for a few minutes considering what it meant. Was I seeing something that wasn't there? Just because another woman asks you for a drink does that make her a lesbian? Was I misreading signals? I tried to remember when we changed after a game, did she look at me in the showers?
To buy time I texted back, "Who else is going?"
Her response was quick, "Just you and me xx"
There it was, the xx again. Were they kisses or was I being stupid? I had been straight all my life and never even looked at another woman sideways unless it was to check her out as competition.
In the end, I took the coward's way out and texted back, "Sorry too much to do in the office," then as an afterthought I deleted the xx I was going to add.
Her response was simple, "🙁"
For the rest of the evening, I tried to focus on my work but found myself picking up the phone and looking at the message, wondering if I had been too hasty.
A few days later, as I was leaving work, we rode the same elevator.
"It's Friday night so what are your plans for the evening? "I said trying to sound friendly but not flirty.
"Chinese evening in front of the TV," then she said, "I would have invited you but you will say no."
Was she coming on to me or just being friendly, I decided there was only one way to find out as I said..."Well...invite me then."
She had an interesting look on her face as she said with a loud laugh, "Only if you bring wine, and it had better be expensive."
The whole conversation was confusing and mixed. Although I was not naive by any means, I had never dealt with women like this and had certainly not dealt with flirtation in many long years.
"Sure, ma'am" I replied putting on a Southern drawl.
*****
The question ran through my head, "What do you wear to a date that is not a date, with someone where you are their boss?"
In the office, I always wore conservative and professional clothes, so it was a relief to change into something lighter and more relaxed. As it was summer I decided on a short flourish dress that with its floral pattern I felt it gave me a sense of freedom and less formality. The way the light material of the dress floated I thought made my legs look attractive. I wore lipstick and some light perfume, and I even thought about wearing sexy underwear. Then I mentally chastised myself for perhaps seeing something that wasn't even there. I was going for a drink with a work colleague not going on a date. The chances are that she was just trying to impress the boss and any lesbian thoughts were in my imagination and fantasy.
She had given me her address and told me I was welcome any time after seven, so I wanted to be on time but also perhaps a fraction late, so I didn't look too keen. On the way I stopped at the store and bought a $50 bottle of red and for the first time in ages I was conscious that I had drawn some stares from the men around me.
When Kayla opened the door, she was dressed very casually in jean shorts, a t-shirt and bare feet. I was pretty certain she wasn't wearing a bra but felt myself colouring up in case she caught me checking her out. She was full of energy, talking a lot as she walked around the place, whistling softly when she took the wine.
Then she paused before she looked at me as she said, "Hope you like it hot and spicy."
My brain went into overdrive, "Was she coming on to me already, how should I respond?" but before I could formulate my response she went on, "I have ordered for us both so have done a mixture of tastes."
At that exact moment, the doorbell chimes and she went to collect the food, again leaving me wondering if I was just imagining things.
As we ate, I kept admiring her long legs that were toned and muscular and she would switch from having them tucked under her, to on the floor.
The topics ranged from how I was finding New York, through to my marriage, muttering sympathetic sounds when I mentioned it had ended when I moved. She asked me casually if I had made any friends since I had moved, and in the back of my head, I wondered what sort of friends she was enquiring about. I casually mentioned how all my time was focused on the office.
It was at that point she casually passed a comment that confirmed what I had suspected.
"Yes, moving can cause problems. When I moved here from San Francisco I split with my girlfriend at the time. We keep in touch but it's just Christmas cards now."
So, she is a lesbian I thought to myself but was then racked with doubt, "But does that mean she fancies me, what should I do if she does?"
"You aren't originally from San Francisco though are you," trying to act nonchalant about the fact she had a girlfriend, though what I wanted to ask her was whether she had hooked up with anyone else.
"Nope, originally a northern girl from Minnesota," she laughed in a way that was natural and confident.
"Ah that explains the tall figure, Ms Viking," I said smiling at her. I thought I was tall at 5' 10" but she was a good 4 or 5 inches taller than me in her bare feet.
"It's all in the genes and thinking of genes that must explain the beauty of this southern belle," as she looked me straight in the eyes.
It was like being hit by an electric shock as I stared into her pretty face and beautiful blue eyes. I knew she must be hitting on me and for the first time with another woman I wanted her to continue.
If she had kissed me at that moment, I would have happily let her but to my surprise she leapt to her feet, "This bottle is nearly empty, let me get another. It won't be as good but should be OK."
As she vanished into the kitchen I was wondering if I had done something wrong, or perhaps misread the signals. I was asking myself, "How will this go? What am I stepping into?" She is openly gay and I was straight, well at least I thought I was, but I didn't know what to do next.
Almost as if there was a change of tack Kayla talked about the office, about basketball but didn't seem to pursue her flirtations, which had me feeling a little disappointed.