They have been flirting for almost two years now; a slow, seductive dance playing out in a six foot by eight foot box, carrying them to their respective employers. Down town high rise, elevator packed with bodies so set on not touching another, with the exception of two. Two bodies that wanted exactly the opposite. Two longing for the slightest connection, arms unintentionally brushing against each other, then shifting slightly, to connect more, to absorb a little of the other's heat.
****************************
"Hey. Seventeen, right?"
Claire looked up from her book to meet a smile from the newest rat in the maze. She'd noticed him immediately, a foreign body in the familiar, crowded elevator. He was very handsome and very tall, like her husband. Claire, petite herself, had a thing for tall men. She'd rarely had a boyfriend under six feet tall. There was just something so cozy about being completely wrapped up in someone much larger than herself.
"I'm sorry?" she asked, puzzled.
"Seventeenth floor, right? I'm on twenty-three. Just started a new job here."
Claire set her book aside. It was crowded and noisy in the lobby café today.
"Right. Yes," she replied. "I work for Kramer, Stern and Strauss."
"Of course. You have the entire floor, don't you?"
"Yes."
He stood waiting, for what, she didn't know, with his lunch in hand. Ring. Married.
"Hey, look. There are no empty tables and you look like you might be finishing soon. Would you mind sharing your table with me? I won't disturb your reading."
"No, no. Of course. Please," Claire said.
He smiled again and sat down. He was really quite striking. Tall, yes. But broad, too. No string beans, thank you. Light brown hair and caramel-colored eyes. Quite the opposite from her husband's dark hair and blue eyes. She noticed him taking account of the band and diamond on her left hand.
Without another word, he set to arranging his lunch on the table and began fidgeting with his Blackberry.
Claire admired him for a moment, then finished the last few bites of her overpriced salad and closed her book.
"Busy afternoon," she said, standing. "Nice to meet you, twenty-three."
"Likewise," he replied, smiling up at her.
And so it began.
****************************
The next morning, he caught her waiting in the lobby with the other lemmings.
"Seventeen!" he greeted her enthusiastically. "Survived to face another day, have you?"
It was clear he worked out regularly, his crisp, button down shirt conforming to his torso, hinting at the firm frame beneath. Claire shouldn't think such things, but wow. He was yummy. She unconsciously bit her lower lip.
They pressed into the elevator with the other passengers, Claire's shoulders and back lightly brushing against his chest. For a very brief moment, she closed her eyes and imagined him enveloping her from behind.
Like trained beasts, everyone stood facing the doors. No one spoke, not to each other anyway. Some were on their cell phones, talking or texting, checking emails and stock prices.
Wanting to connect with him again, Claire made as if she were searching for something in her purse, stepping back as she did. He leaned forward, ever so slightly.
"I'm Michael, by the way," he spoke quietly, next to her ear. "Looks like your stop."
And it was.
"Claire," she said, turning her head to meet his eyes. She smiled, and then made her escape.
****************************
And so it continued, like this, for some time. Each day, finding their bodies just a fraction of an inch closer to each other and always wanting more.
One day, after altering her schedule to accommodate the current project, she found Michael standing above her again as she read and ate her lunch.
"I was beginning to think you'd quit." he said, smiling at her. "It's crowded again today. Can we share?"
"Of course," Claire smiled back, the flattery that he'd noticed her absence sending a warm sensation rippling through her. Eyeing him up and down, she momentarily let her mind wander places it shouldn't. He was so attractive and charming, confident. She'd often imagined him naked, solid; a stalwart lover, no doubt.
Michael sat down without taking his eyes from hers. He smiled again.
"So, where have you been?"
"Oh, I'm working on a project with our Los Angeles office and I've had to change my hours a bit to accommodate the time difference. I've been coming in and leaving later."
Claire found her book mark, placed it and set her book aside. Looking back up, she found Michael staring at her breasts. She was wearing a low cut, crimson pixie blouse that showed a tasteful amount of cleavage.
"Busted," he grinned, returning his eyes to hers.
Claire should have been embarrassed, but was emboldened instead. She liked the attention, the thought that maybe he'd had his own little fantasies about her.
"You shouldn't stare so long," she said, running her fingers up the neckline of her blouse, as if innocently adjusting it. "You could go blind."
He paused, studying her face and weighing her comment, then smiled again. "I'm certain it would be quite worth it."
She leaned forward deliberately and took a napkin from his tray. He lowered his gaze to accept the closer peek she offered.
"Do you mind?" she asked, meaning the napkin.
"Not at all," he replied, meaning something entirely different.
"Thank you," Claire smiled, settling back into her chair, making a task of tidying her lunch tray.
"My pleasure."
"You've no idea," she continued the game, boldly. Standing, she plucked her book and purse from the table and walked away without a second look, grinning to herself, her heart racing with excitement.
****************************
Late morning, a few days later, Michael poked his arm through the elevator doors just as they were closing.
"Good morning, Seventeen," he beamed. "What a pleasant coincidence."
He stepped into the once relatively empty box, now dangerously filled with two bodies.
"Twenty-three," she acknowledged, smiling.
He stepped closer, reaching around, instead of in front of her, to press the button for his floor. He didn't step back at all. Claire could feel his heat; smell the faint scent of soap and cologne rising from his skin.
